Charming Pawse
Book III
Chapter 13
The Push
Deals
"NOOOO!" The harsh cry of denial burst from Alex's mouth. He sat straight up in the bed, his eyes round, trying to find light in the darkness. He was drenched in sweat and breathing as heavily as if he'd just run five miles in jump boots with a full pack on his back. The combination of sweat and fear made him shiver.
His cry pulled Cat out of her drug induced sleep. Fear and concern for him made her senses sharp. She was wide awake, adrenaline overtaking the drowse that accompanied waking from the pain medication. She didn't need to turn on a light in order to know Alex had had a nightmare. The force of his roar was evidence of that. She slid her hand out of the sling to touch his bare back, frowning at the sheen of perspiration.
'It wasn't just a bad dream, it was the bad dream. Curse 'Herman for bringin' it back!' Her throat went dry, remembering the last time Alex had been visited by the dreams that took him back to his and Kozik's parts in Missy's death.
She ran her hand in a soothing caress along his back, murmuring comforting words to him. "You're all right, love. It was just the bad dream."
"It sure was," he agreed. "Sorry to wake ya."
"Meh, y'all just got me goin' a little earlier than I'm used to," she retorted airily. She continued the soothing caress, as it seemed to help calm him. "Just take deep breaths, just like we do in tai chi."
He followed her lead, inhaling fresh air deep into his lungs, holding it to for a five count, then slowly exhaling through his mouth and nose. As he breathed, he slowly raised his hands above his hands, then allowed them to fall slowly to his sides.
She listened to his breathing, nodding in satisfaction. "That's good, love," she encouraged, sliding her legs over her side of the bed. "Keep doin' that, and I'll be right back."
"Where ya goin'?" he asked fretfully.
"Just into the bathroom. Gonna get y'all somethin' to soothe you," she explained, slipping into the bathroom. The night light gave her plenty of illumination to see what she was doing.
She reached under the sink for the dish pan stored there, placed it in the sink, and ran warm water into it. She added a small amount of soap to the water, allowing the splash from the faucet to create suds. Adding a washcloth and towel to the arsenal, she carried the pan around the bed to Alex's side, placing the wash pan on the floor. He'd turned on the small bedside lamp to dispel the shadows in the room.
"What do ya think you're gonna do?"
"What does it look like, love? Gonna make y'all a little more comfortable so you can get back to sleep," she replied, dipping the washcloth in the water, then wringing it out. She wanted it damp, but not soaking wet so the bed would get soaked.
Starting with the back of his neck and working carefully around his shoulder wound, Cat lovingly cleaned the sweat from his body. She worked along his spine down to the tailbone and back up until his back was cleansed.
Taking the bath towel in both hands, ignoring his protests that she should leave her injured arm in the sling, she patted his back dry so he could lean against the pillows. Then she rinsed the cloth in the pan and started working on his chest and arms.
She crooned encouragingly to him, breathing along with him. The intent of the bath wasn't to arouse him, though his body reacted to her ministrations, much to her amusement. The intention of bathing him was to help calm and relax him so they'd both get back to sleep.
"Ya know you don't have to do this," he murmured.
"Yeah. I want to," she replied. "Now hush up, and keep breathin'."
"Yes, ma'am!" He grinned a little sheepishly, but there still a hint of male animal in that grin.
"Close your eyes so I can wipe your face," she instructed.
He reached out to take the cloth from her. "I can wash my own face, I'm not an invalid!"
"If you do your face, you don't get to have me take care of your 'nether regions', stud!" she countered. "That's a promise!"
"Dammit! You are definitely an evil woman!" he growled, allowing his arms to fall to his sides. "I 'spose ya aren't gonna let me touch ya, either!"
"Damn straight!" she grinned triumphantly, gently working the warm cloth on his lower extremities.
Her attention to his 'nether regions' made his dick stand straight up and wave a cocky invitation to play.
"Damn thing's got a mind of it's own!" She laughed. "Sorry big guy," she addressed both Alex and his cock. "Neither one of us in any shape for a good fuck right now."
Besides arousing primal male urges in him, the bath left Alex feeling clean and cared for. He tried to fight the drowsy feeling from the vicodin he'd taken before going to sleep. Though part of him didn't want to waste the opportunity for sex, Alex slid deep under the covers, allowing his body to fully relax.
Cat drew the covers around him, giving him a hearty good night kiss. He reached out to grasp her good hand, placing his cheek along her palm, nuzzling it a moment like the cat's often did. Then he placed a kiss on her palm and murmured, "I never fuck you, baby," before his eyes drifted shut.
She gently disengaged her hand from his, stroking his hair back from his forehead as she watched him sink into a deep, peaceful slumber. "I know, love," she whispered. His admission made her heart leap with joy. She knew she would hold that moment locked in her heart and soul the rest of her life.
After draining the wash pan, rinsing and drying it, and returning it under the sink, she hung the cloth and towel on a rod in the shower to dry. She was shaking with exhaustion from her efforts. She attributed the overwhelming fatigue to the strenuous day she'd put in.
'No wonder I'm whipped! We drove to Klamath Falls and back, plus had that disagreement about disclosin' our marriage for the election. We get home expectin' to be able to relax only to learn Kozik's been sniffin' around the joint! That'd be enough to wear out Wonder Woman!'
She slipped back into bed, snuggling up against Alex's back. Though he was asleep, his hand moved to cover hers and brought it over his chest to lay against his heart. He sighed contentedly, which made her smile.
"Sleep well, love. I'll protect y'all from that boogieman of a Kozik!" she whispered fiercely before she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Alex awoke a few hours later to the distant sounds of June beginning her day. He heard her soft murmurs to the cats, who were meowing loudly for attention, or food, or play, or any number of things that felines wanted. He grinned at her exasperated proclamation, "All y'all are spoiled furry brats! Here! Have some treats and leave my breakfast alone!"
His mouth watered at the smell of fresh brewed coffee drifting into the bedroom. The door was partially open to allow the cats access in and out of the room but protect the humans' privacy. He was jonsing for a cup of coffee, but felt too tired to get up to go after it. "I knew better than to do all that liftin' yesterday! Didn't wanna look like a wimp in front of everybody!'
His thoughts were interrupted by a light tap at the closed door. "Cat? Y'all awake?" June called softly.
"She's still asleep, sweetheart," Alex answered in the same soft tone. After caring for him the way she had a few hours ago, he felt the least he could do was let her sleep undisturbed.
"Are y'all decent?"
"Never!" he grinned.
"Then I guess this coffee can wait in the kitchen for y'all then!" June retorted.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" Alex yelped, forgetting that his wife was trying to sleep. "I'm covered up, if that's what ya meant!"
June poked her head past the door, relief visible on her face to see that he was telling the truth. "Why didn't y'all say so?" she grumbled, walking to the dresser and placing a tray on it. The tray held a coffee carafe and three cups.
"Ya asked if I was decent. I'm never decent, sweetheart."
"I can vouch for that!" Cat murmured, sliding into a reclining position against her own pillows. "Mornin', kittenface."
"Sorry, chick. Didn't mean to wake y'all," June apologized as she poured coffee into a cup and walked to Cat's side of the bed to hand it to her. "Already added your creamer for ya."
"Thanks, kittenface. You're a lifesaver!"
"Pep – o – mint or Wint – o – green?" June grinned.
"What the hell am I? Chopped liver?" Alex grumbled, glaring from June to the dresser and the coffee he craved.
"No, you're a loud, domineering male animal," Cat retorted. "Haven't y'all ever heard of the sayin' 'ladies first'?'"
Before he could utter a suitable retort, June waggled a warning finger at him. "I'd be very careful about the next comment y'all make. Remember, there's two of us against you!"
"Hah!" he scoffed, puffing out his chest. "I can handle two women!"
Cat and June exchanged glances, their eyebrows shooting up their foreheads. June poured out another cup of coffee while Cat turned her face to Alex, a wicked grin lit her face at the sight of a bulge in the bed covers. "Looks like he's certainly 'up' to it!"
June was passing the filled cup to Alex as Cat spoke. Her gaze inadvertently dropped to his lap, making her nearly spill the hot liquid on him. Alex saved himself from injury by grabbing the cup with both hands before a single drop escaped.
"Holy mountain top, Batman!" June swore vehemently. "Can't he keep that damn thing under control?"
"Sorry, darlin'," Cat laughed. "That 'thing' has a mind of its' own and doesn't 'obey' anyone but him."
"EWWWW!" June shrieked, scurrying with her cup to sit on Cat's side of the bed.
"Y'all might wanna take the chair, kittenface. It's infinitely safer than this bed."
June rapidly moved to the rocking chair on Cat's side of the room. She sighed in exaggerated relief. "Ahh! Safe at last!"
Alex felt his face grow warm from their kidding. He was used to Cat's bawdy sense of humor that often came at his expense. He wasn't used to other women cracking wise about his masculinity. He was more accustomed to inciting reactions of awe over his male attributes, not glee.
"Awwww! Isn't that cute?" Cat gushed. "If I weren't seein' it with my own eye, I'd never believe Alex was capable of blushin'!"
"Where's your camera?" June smirked. "We gotta capture the moment!"
Cat gestured with her head toward the bed table. "It's on the charger. I'd reach for it, but there's a bit of a furry impediment here," her good hand reached down to stroke the furry ball curled up next to her. Misty had wandered in while June was bringing the coffee to curl up next to her purrson for a nap.
June placed her cup on the table next to the chair and stood up. "Why, I'll be happy to hand it to y'all!"
"DO NOT!" Alex roared.
His shout startled Misty out of her nap. The little black feline's tail puffed out in all directions as she jumped from the bed and scurried out the door to safety.
"Way to go!"
"She's an animal, she'll recover," Alex grumbled, taking a sip of the much coveted coffee. "Ahh! Whiskey Blend! Second best way to wake up!"
"I'm not gonna ask what the first is," June retorted wryly.
"Tell ya what sweetheart, it's been awhile since I've engaged in a threesome, but I'm willin' to show ya the first best!"
The light atmosphere fled the room as fast as Misty had. Cat's eye flashed green fire while June's face went completely pale. 'How could a grown ass man like him make such a thoughtless remark? I know Cat's had to have told him!' June glanced at her smoldering friend. 'Or did she?'
The sudden drop in ambient temperature in the room alerted Alex to trouble. One look at the anger in his wife's good eye warned him he'd just made a major mistake.
"Oh, shit! I forgot!"
"No shit, Sherlock!" she growled.
"I think I'll make like a tree and leaf. See y'all later, I hope!" June grabbed her coffee cup and scurried out the bedroom door.
"Chicken shit!" Cat hollered after her, only half joking.
"I accept that! Confucius say 'She who flees like a scared rabbit lives a longer life!' I'll just see myself out the door!"
"I don't remember Confucius sayin' anythin' like that!" Cat snorted, leaping from the bed and stalking angrily around the confines of the bedroom.
She tried using tai chi breathing techniques to calm her anger, but it was impossible. Alex had ripped open a deep, festering wound. It hurt her emotionally and brought old ghosts back to haunt her.
"I'm sorry, baby. I forgot."
"How could y'all forget somethin' like that?" she cried without breaking stride. She needed to work out her anger without throwing either a major temper fit, everything that wasn't nailed down in the room, or launching a physical attack on Alex.
"I dunno. Can't Remember Shit disease?" he ventured, spreading his hands wide and grinning like an dot. His intent was to lighten her mood and dispel the tension in the air. It had the opposite affect.
"Does everything have to be a fuckin' joke with y'all?" she ranted, stopping in the middle of the bedroom to glare angrily at him. "This is not a joke!"
"I know," he sighed, his features quickly sobering. "I'm really sorry, baby."
"Yeah, right!" she scoffed, too hurt to accept his apology. 'Y'all just don't get it, honey. Every time y'all toss a casual endearment at June, it pricks my heart like someone's drivin' an ice pick into it!'
Alex swung his legs over his side of the bed, rising to his feet and crossing the small distance to stand in front of her. He didn't try to touch her, though he ached to comfort her
"I do get it, baby. It was supposed to be a little joke; you both took it the wrong way."
She backed away from him, her eye narrowing in disbelief. "Oh, no! Y'all did not just put the blame for this fubar on me!" Her voice cracked, which upset her more.
"Dammit, Alex, I told y'all what caused a major rift between June and me for years. It's not somethin' to make light of! Ever! We both felt betrayed, and that hurt enough. The gulf that kept us apart for years hurt more!"
Alex mentally kicked himself. During the early days of their relationship, Cat had made two requests of him about sex. The first was that he never call her by another woman's name during a passionate moment. The second that he never suggest a threesome with her.
He could tell by hers and June's reactions that he'd stepped hip deep in a pile of shit. That didn't matter to him; he'd fallen into deeper piles and survived. What bothered him more was the fact that he'd hurt his woman in a moment of stupidity.
"I don't share well with others; always got bad reports to the parents in my formative years," she continued. "I've gotten better, but that selfish streak still exists when it comes to my man! Maybe you think I should be over it, but it still haunts me!"
His lips twitched, but he worked to suppress the smile he felt. Her words reminded him of the defensive manner he'd spoken to her of his mourning for Missy for eight years. She had even copied his 'whatcha gonna do about it?' stare.
He also vividly recalled her description of the event that had caused the rift between her and June. She'd kept referring to it as a threesome, but her definition of the word was far different from what he knew it to be. That amused him to no end.
Cat noticed his lips twitch and his desperate attempt to hide his amusement. "What the Hell is so frackin' funny?" she hissed.
"Um, baby. I'm not sure how to tell ya this, but neither of ya screwed the dude at the same time. Ya both were with him at different times and just happened to find out about it." His smile broadened as he added, "That's not a threesome."
He regretted the comment the moment it was out of his mouth. Cat's eye flashed in anger all over again, nearly spitting green flame at him. A sheen of tears glinted in it from the hallway light. He realized he'd pushed her too far with his skewed humor. He braced himself for the ensuing explosion.
She took a deep, steadying breath and let it out. Her voice was firm, but there was a wealth of pain in it when she spoke.
"Don't y'all realize how hard it's been for me to keep from turnin' into a green - eyed monster since y'all came back from Oregon? I've tried so hard not to be a clingin' vine or a possessive bitch!"
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Ya did a pretty good job handlin' the porn star!" he reminded her. "She goaded ya into fightin' over me. To tell ya the truth, I kinda liked that ya fought for me that time."
She slumped dejectedly onto the edge of the bed. All the fight seemed to have left her. "I hate behavin' like that, love! It's a sign of immaturity and mistrust, and I won't descend to that level!"
"Baby, you always act like a class act," he observed, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Right now, I don't feel like one," she replied sadly. "Especially after ya pulled that stunt! It's like my feelin's don't matter to y'all, and that's what really hurts!"
The gauze covering her injured eye was soaked from her tears of frustration. The fact that she was letting Alex see her cry made her more frustrated. "Oh, Hell!" she sighed, wiping the tears that flowed freely down her right cheek.
Alex retreated to his side of the bed, confused by her rapidly changing emotions. He was relieved that he was no longer the focus of her anger, but being the source of her pain was worse. He'd hurt her and wanted to make it up to her.
'Shit! I wanna feel her next to me, just to give her comfort. If she gets the wrong idea, I might wind up wearin' a cast on my junk!' He traded water at the bedside for a few moments, then cast caution aside and carefully crawled across the bed until he was right behind her, sliding his legs around either side of her. His chest pressed against her stiff and unyielding back.
"Damn you, Alex! I am not in the mood for sex!" she cried, sliding forward to get away from him.
His hands and arms stole around her chest, being careful not to aggravate her ribs. "Good. Neither am I," he growled in her ear. "A man can hold his woman without it leadin' to sex, can't he?"
She continued to struggle in his arms, unable to believe him. She was crying from hurt, anger, and a sense of betrayal. She felt confused because she wanted him to comfort her, but she also didn't want him to see her act like a girl.
Alex held her against him, whispering soothing words in her ear and nuzzling her neck with his lips. He kept his hands away from her nipples, carefully avoiding any kind of gesture she might construe as a sexual enticement.
The fact that he was comforting her in much the same manner she'd comforted him from the nightmare eventually registered with her. She allowed herself to relax against his chest while her good hand slid along his arm until her fingers tangled with his.
"You're right, baby," he whispered. "I can be a real asshole sometimes. I'm sorry for blurtin' that out without stoppin' to think how you'd take it."
He sent a stern warning to his cock to behave itself. 'The last thing I want is to have her get all bent out of shape if it pokes her in the ass!' He concentrated briefly on keeping his cock flaccid. She rewarded his effort by rubbing her cheek against his arm.
"You give me a lot; seems like I give ya a lot of trouble, baby. Hell, you've given me freedom that most women wouldn't give their men."
"I'm not most women," she remarked dryly. "I accepted y'all as you are, warts and all. You were a sexual animal when we met and y'all aren't gonna change. Either I could make both of us miserable over it, or just accept it. I decided to accept it cause it's part of who y'all are."
"It's never gonna come home to haunt ya, baby." he vowed.
"Love, I think we know what happens from makin' a promise with 'never' in it. Inevitably, the promise gets broken."
Alex growled a protest. "Honestly, baby! I'm never gonna call ya by some other gash's name, and never ever gonna mention the word 'threesome' again!"
She sighed wearily. "You'll understand if I don't hold y'all to that, love."
"I'm an asshole, baby, but not a total fucktard. Any man who'd intentionally do that to ya, knowin' how much it would hurt ya - doesn't deserve ya."
Cat sighed again, but it was contented. Her voice held a husky note that betrayed the fact that she'd already forgiven him. "Damn you! When y'all are like this, I just can't stay mad!"
He grinned wolfishly, leaning back to lie on the bed, drawing her against his hard body. His cock started to harden against the crack of her butt. "All ya gotta do is turn over, baby, and ya can show me how ya really feel!"
Cat rolled off him to lay next to him for a moment, her hand lay flat over his heart. "You're kinda treadin' on thin ice, love!"
"I like to live dangerously, baby," he murmured softly, gently lifting her so that she was laying on top of him. His hands traveled from her waist to her hips, easily lifting her up and onto his erect cock. He sighed as her warm, wet opening slid over him, her muscles clenching around him.
Clay opened his eyes to find his wife laying next to him, a small smile on her face. There was nothing unusual about that, except they weren't in their own bed. They were laying face to face on a thin hospital mattress, his arms were protectively wrapped around Gemma, who was curled up against him.
He smiled softly, but resisted the urge to kiss her forehead. She was out of danger now, the medicine for her arrhythmia had finally controlled her heart rate. 'If Jax's plan doesn't work, Stahl will have her moved to the SJCCF's infirmary as soon as she can, no matter what Dr. Gallagher says!'
His thoughts turned to Jax's plan to win them time to retrieve Abel, and to save Gemma from prison. 'I need a backup, in case his plan falls through. Stahl might've accepted Lucas as a good will gesture, but I don't trust that gash any further than I can throw her!'
The club had agreed not to tell any of the women about Jax's plan, that didn't mean they couldn't talk about the need to go to Belfast. Clay had discussed the SAMBEL situation with Gemma, but still felt uneasy about it. He was secretly happy that she wasn't physically up to going along.
Clay shook his head, trying to clear the pain he felt from the possible betrayal of the Northern Ireland charter. He felt he couldn't rely on the Belfast charter until he'd personally investigated the situation. Experience had taught him that where there was smoke, there was usually a raging fire. Liam's outright lie to Jax a few days ago was an inferno.
He knew Gemma would expect him to discuss the travel arrangements with her, even though she wouldn't be going.. If he didn't, she'd worry herself into a relapse. He wasn't sure how the club was going to make the trip. Money, transpiration, identification, all those factors were against them.
'Unser's always been of use in situations like these. But I'm not sure the Police Che if is going to be willing to help SAMCRO if he's in bed with Jacob Hale.'
His eyes traced the random dots in the ceiling tile above his head, looking for the answers in the patterns. 'Guess I can try Oswald. He contracts with a lot of overseas companies, sends forestry equipment there. Might be the best way to go.'
He knew he'd have to meet personally with the two men. Visits he really couldn't afford to make time for, but that he couldn't afford not to make. 'Those visits will hafta wait until after the vote. I just hope to Hell Tig will toe the line and do what's best for the club.'
He winced in discomfort. 'Hospital beds are definitely not made for decent sleep!' he thought, sitting up and stifling a groan from the pins and needles that shot through him.
"Mornin' baby," Gemma whispered.
"Mornin'. Didn't mean to wake ya," Clay rumbled, standing and indulging in a long stretch. His bones and muscles crackled and popped, but his body felt better for doing so.
"You didn't. I was drowsin'. You don't sleep in hospitals, thought you knew that."
"Consider me reminded," he replied wryly. "You gonna be a'right without me for awhile?"
"Sure," she stretched and moved the bed so that she could recline comfortably. "You've got the vote this mornin'."
"Yeah. I wanna talk to Tig again, make sure he's on board," Clay announced.
Gemma shook her head. "Don't push him, baby. This vote is gonna be difficult for him and you know why."
"He's had plenty of time to get over it!" Clay softened his words with a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'll see ya later, baby."
He strode out the door, ignoring the presence of the agent sitting across the hall from Gemma's door. He shook his head as he walked down the hall to the double doors. He didn't understand the deep affection Tig had displayed for the dog, no more than he understood Gemma's love for that damn bird. To him, animals were like women, tools to be used for a job. Dogs were good for hunting and guarding, but that was all the consideration he could give them.
Gemma stared at the door as it closed behind her husband and sighed in resignation. "You're wrong, baby. Tig's not the type to let a betrayal like that die. To him, it's as fresh as the day it happened. I have a bad feelin' about that vote!"
The usual morning lull had descended upon Charming Pawse. There were no customers in the front except for the two regulars who were settled comfortably in their regular seats. Their favorite books were in their hands, their drinks on the tables beside them. Music from Neil Diamond, intermixed with other 'soft rock' tunes drifted from the sound system.
The feline trio was sound asleep in their enclosed room, perched in various spots that allowed them to soak up the warmth from a sunbeam. Christopher Johns and Pete were going about their morning routine of cleaning dishes, restocking the pastry case, and straightening up in anticipation of the noon rush.
Christopher looked up at the sound of a Harley engine idling out front, thinking Mr. Tig might be coming in. He often visited the coffeehouse if the workload at the garage or club business didn't stop him.
The bike backing into a parking place near the front of the store looked nothing like Mr. Tig's. Neither did the rider. Christopher frowned and signaled for Pete's attention.
Pete ambled over to the counter where Christopher was working. "What's up?"
"That's not one of the SAMCRO bikes," he quietly indicated the unfamiliar biker approaching the door.
"Looks like a member of the one of the charters," Pete observed just as quietly. There was no reason to alarm the customers unless it was necessary. While the customers were used to the local club hanging out in the coffeehouse, Cat's employees knew the presence of SAMCRO charters in Charming often meant trouble was brewing.
"Is there some kind of trouble going on to bring the charters back?"
Pete shook his head. "This guy's alone. The charters usually turn up in a group when they're needed and Miss Cat would've told us to expect them. He could be a nomad, just stopping in for coffee on the way to the clubhouse."
They watched apprehensively as the rider entered the coffeehouse. He was almost as tall as Mr. Tig, with sandy colored hair. He ambled around the coffeehouse, briefly examining the book exchange wall, merchandise displays, and the cat area before turning to walk up to the counter. The patches on the front of his cut indicated he was with the Tacoma charter, and that he was the Sergeant at Arms of that club.
"Do you think Miss Cat is watching?" Christopher inquired softly. He felt an immediate animosity for the biker. "He looks like he could be a real asshat."
"He is, and I was watchin' darlin'," she announced from the doorway. The two employees turned to find her leaning insolently against the door frame.
"Christopher, even though your opinion is spot on in this case, don't forget that we don't call our customers asshats," she winked at him to take the sting out of her admonishment.
"Yes, ma'am!" Christopher grinned unrepentantly.
She motioned with a nod of her head towards the back. "Why don't all y'all go take a break?"
Christopher wasted no time in complying with her request. 'The more distance between me and him, the better!' He vanished into the break room, closing the door behind him.
Pete was visibly reluctant to obey. He sensed his employer's keen dislike for the newcomer and was concerned for her safety in her injured condition. 'Not that he'd be dumb enough to try anything in front of the customers! But Mr. Tig would not be happy to hear I'd left her alone with this guy!'
"Pete, I appreciate that y'all have my back, but I really need y'all to go on your break," she ordered in a tone that indicated she expected him to comply without protest.
"I'll be watching the security monitor like a hawk!" He retorted softly so only she could hear.
"I expect y'all to," she replied, softening her tone with a slight smile. "And no callin' Tig. I'll fill him in later."
"If you insist, Miss Cat," Pete agreed reluctantly.
"You'll know if y'all need to call him, darlin'. Now scoot!" She made a 'scat' motion with her good hand and forced herself to walk without limping to the counter.
Kozik was leaning over the counter, his arms crossed and leaning on his arms. He grinned sardonically as he listened in on her discussion with her employee.
"I'm surprised you're sendin' 'em away. Would've figured you'd want them around. Or are they callin' in the cavalry?"
"Why would I need to call for help, 'Herman'?" She inquired innocently, adding a slight emphasis to his first name. She felt an inner sense of satisfaction at seeing him wince at her use of his name, but didn't let her amusement show. "My employees are takin' a well deserved break. The mornin' rush ended a little awhile ago, and they worked pretty hard."
She pointed past Kozik, indicating the customers in the lounge. "Besides, there's customers present, and I can swing a baseball bat with one hand and hit what I need to. Seems like my interests are well protected."
Kozik's grin grew wide, like a crocodile about to pounce. "Are ya always this friendly to new customers?"
"Only the ones that have trouble at the top of their agenda," she countered. "So are y'all here to cause trouble, or are you wantin' some coffee?"
"OK, lemme have a large coffee. Black. No fancy frothy thing. Just plan, black coffee."
"Here, or to go?" her tone indicated she hoped it was a take out order.
"Aw, I think I'll have it here. Kinda nice place ya got here. Cozy. Not like most coffee places."
She shrugged and turned to pour a fresh cup of coffee into the largest coffee mug she offered.
"That's the whole idea, 'Herman'. There's no sense invitin' people to pause for a spell if they can't be comfortable."
She placed the cup on the counter in front of him. Kozik pulled his wallet from his back pocket. "What do I owe ya?"
"Your money's no good here, 'Herman'. Go sit a spell, drink your coffee, then go on about your business," she replied.
Kozik withdrew a Lincoln from his wallet and stuffed it in the kitty jar. "For the kitties, then. I don't take handouts!"
"Oh - kay," Cat murmured, glaring at the bill as if she expected it to explode at any minute. "Don't y'all have an important meetin' this mornin'?"
Kozik was momentarily startled by her inquiry, but recovered quickly. A slight smirk caused his mouth to twitch, the only outward expression of his thoughts. 'Huh! Figures Tiggie would tell her about that. Prolly told him to send me packin'! Well, she's in for a surprise! Tig is Clay's right hand, does everything Clay asks of him, regardless of his personal feelin's. I'm in like Flynn.'
"'Herman, your thoughts are as transparent as the windows!" Cat observed. "Yes, Tig warned me that y'all wanna patch back in to SAMCRO. He doesn't ask for my counsel in club matters, nor do I volunteer it."
"But you'd be in favor of me bein' sent back to Tacoma with my tail between my legs!" Kozik retorted.
"The idea certainly has its' merits. Not my decision to make. So why don't y'all explain why you're in my coffeehouse this fine mornin'."
Kozik grinned and sauntered to one of the overstuffed chairs. He settled into it, sighing in contentment at the comfort that enfolded him. "Man, this is nice! No wonder people like this place! A guy could get used to this!"
"Don't write out any change of address cards, buster," she murmured, limping out from behind the counter to sit in a wing backed chair across from him. That chair seat was higher than the overstuffed chair Kozik reclined in. It would be easier for her to get up if she had to move in a hurry. "So are y'all gonna satisfy my curiosity?"
Kozik took another sip of the fresh brew, savoring the flavor and aroma. "Whiskey blend! I heard the guys talkin' about it at the clubhouse, but didn't get to try any. Damn decent shit!"
Cat glared at him, deciding that the only way she's get any answers was to play by his rules. "My coffee is not shit. I don't care if it's a term for 'da bomb'. Call my brew 'shit' again and I'll take the baseball bat to y'all!"
"Testy, testy! Sheesh!" Kozik grinned behind the coffee cup, feeling satisfied that he'd scored a point, albeit a small one. "They servin' any of this at the compound?"
"Probably. I know Kip - that's Half Sack to you - took a few pounds over the day the lock down went into effect."
She stared at Kozik, watching as he savored the coffee. He returned her stare unblinkingly and found her unwilling or unable to break off from the stare down. "OK, OK! You win, woman! I came by here to talk to ya before the vote."
"Why?"
"To tell ya I took you up on that challenge, did some research like ya said I should. You were right about the accident. Tig was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Cat's uninjured eye narrowed in suspicion. She knew there had to be another reason for Kozik's desire to talk with her. 'What the Hell is it about these men that if one of their own takes an old lady they immediately think he's pussy whipped?' She continued to stare at the rider until he squirmed.
"OK, OK, OK. Look, I know what you're thinkin'. You're right. I didn't have to come here to tell ya that."
"Then why are y'all here?" Her voice was hard and direct. She had the beginnings of a headache from trying to follow Kozik's logic. 'The problem is, he leaps from one topic to another like a frog in a hot water heater. It's wearin' me out!'
"Tig doesn't trust me. Hasn't since Missy died."
"Seems to me he has good reason not to trust y'all, 'Herman'. The shit y'all pulled on me at the hospital didn't do y'all any good. Fact is, you stand a better chance of winnin' the state lottery than of winnin' Tig over!"
"I know. I know. And that's gonna cause trouble for the club. Division that we don't need. It's not like my prospect year when he made my life Hell. I'm a fully patched member. Big difference."
"If it's a done deal, how is this any of my business?" she countered.
"I figure ya can bridge the gap between us. You're more than a piece of ass to him; you're his old lady, that's gotta have some sway!"
I don't like what y'all are implyin', 'Herman'!" she spat angrily.
"No, no, no. I never meant -"
"You're skirtin' the edges, and that's enough!" she snarled. "Tig's a grown ass man and makes his own decisions!"
"OK, OK! I'm sorry. But lissen, he does talk to ya, right?"
Cat's fists clenched in anger. Kozik could tell he was pushing her temper. 'I'm doin' a bad job of this, but she's my best shot at settin' the record straight once and for all!' He held out his hands in an imploring gesture, his expression pleading with her.
"OK, you're obviously an animal lover, right? And Tig respect ya, right?"
"What's your point, 'Herman'?" She winced at the slight whiny note in her voice. Kozik was wearing on her last nerve.
"I wanna tell ya what happened when Missy died. From my point of view. You were once a reporter, right? Ya believe in gettin' both sides of the story, don't ya?"
Cat sighed and closed her eye, her good hand rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"All I'm askin' ya to do is hear me out, Cat. If ya think I'm fulla shit, at least I'll have tried." Kozik added.
Without opening her eye, she asked, "What good could it possibly do? The vote's in a few minutes. I don't see how ya can talk about somethin' as awful as Missy's death and be able to face the guys right after!"
"No, I'm not talkin' about now. I'm transferrin' in, that means I'm gonna be here for good. Figure it's better if we bury the hatchet in somethin' else besides each other. Maybe if ya have a different opinion of me than that I'm an asshole, Tig might be more willin' to look at me different."
'This kid is really settin' himself up for a major disappointment where the vote is concerned,' Cat thought. A small sliver for sympathy rose up in her for the rider.
'This situation is kinda like the one June and I were in years ago. Nobody ran interference for us, we had to work it out for ourselves. Maybe Alex just needs a little noodge in the right direction. Not sure I wanna be the one doin' the nudgin', though.'
"C'mon, Cat. Be fair. Give me a chance! Remember, I saved your life a few nights ago! Is this so much to ask in return?"
"There's an old sayin' about leopards not changin' their spots. It pisses off the leopard and does the one tryin' to change the spots a world of hurt," she sighed in resignation. "Y'all have me figuratively by the short hairs by callin' up the debt."
"Then you'll listen to me? Really listen?"
Cat nodded wearily. "No promises except to listen with an open mind. The rest we'll play by ear."
"What about Tig?"
"What about him?" she countered.
"You gonna say anything to him about this?"
"Do bears poop in the woods? I don't hide stuff from my man, 'Herman'. He's gonna know ya came here to talk to me and what we talked about. That's somethin' y'all can take to the bank." She felt it prudent not to mention that she was recording their conversation on her Iphone memo app.
Kozik drained the last of his coffee and stood up. "Nah. Stay put, I can carry a cup to the counter without mishap!" He put his words into actions and turned back to her. "Thanks for not takin' the baseball bat to me. Sure beats the last time we met."
"Helps when y'all don't come sneakin' around in the dark," she acknowledged. "I'd prefer y'all not come to the house until you're invited. We're not keen about surprise visitors. This is a better meeting place."
'Yeah, daylight and witnesses. Smart. No wonder Tig chose her.' Kozik gave her a thumbs up and a ghost of his cocky grin. "Can I ask another favor?"
Normally, she would have replied, 'I don't know, can you?' She just wanted him gone and was too tired to play with him any further, so she just nodded.
"Could ya forget ya ever learned my first name? Just call me Kozik in the future?"
She favored him with the one - eyed version of 'The Look'. 'I'll give it all the due consideration it merits."
Kozik's shoulders sagged as he strode to the door and his bike. Cat leaned her head back against the chair and sighed wearily. 'The boy reminds me of a frisky pup. All full of energy and wantin' to please. If he hadn't been such a thorn in Alex's side all these years, I could almost like the guy.'
She pulled out the two - way phone and activated it.
"Hey, baby. Can't talk. Ya know what to do."
She waited for the beep and spoke in her best Eartha Kitt purr. "I sure do know, love. Thought y'all would want to know that 'Herman' just left. No worries. I didn't shoot his nuts off or ram his ass with the baseball bat. Think he just wanted to see what the coffeehouse is all about. Gave him a cuppa and sent him on his way. The kids were watchin'. He's probably on his way there. See ya when I see ya!"
She turned off the two - way and laid her head back again. The scene in the movie '300' came to mind of the confrontation between the Spartan Queen and the Council betrayer, where the Queen sticks a sword into the betrayer and hisses "This will not be quick. You will not enjoy this!" She knew that like the Spartan Council traitor, Kozik was not going to enjoy the outcome of the vote.
Tyler stared at June's slumbering form, her stomach fluttering as if an army of butterflies were waging war in it. 'I just can't get over the feeling that whatever she was working on last night is going to hurt me in some way!'
She was looking at her lover in a whole new way. Gone was the unswerving loyalty that she'd felt for June. That innocence had been killed by the doubt and uncertainty that troubled the agent. Tyler clung to the hope that she was wrong, but it was a slim hope. As an agent, she knew to follow the evidence wherever it led, and the evidence so far indicated to her that June considered her a liability.
"Morning, baby," June yawned, her eyes wide open and gazing lovingly at Tyler. "Did I oversleep?"
"I woke up before the alarm went off and couldn't get back to sleep. I didn't want to disturb you by fighting the bed," Tyler replied. She was surprised that her voice sounded so steady when her entire life seemed to be disintegrating in front of her. "I turned off the alarm so you could sleep in."
Stahl's eyes gleamed with that fanatical stare that frightened Tyler. "Why'd you do that?"
"I - I had to get up to use the bathroom during the night. You weren't in bed."
Stahl's eyes returned to their normal size. "I couldn't sleep, probably too keyed up from the raid."
Tyler nodded. "I thought that might be the case, and that you were just winding down. I went straight back to bed." She held her breath, hoping her lover would accept the lie.
"It was an exhausting night. Can't blame you," Stahl smiled gently, lovingly.
Tyler inwardly relaxed. It looked like Stahl was going to accept the lie at face value. "When I woke up it seemed a good idea to let you sleep a little longer. Coffee's brewing and the shower's free."
"Thanks, baby. I appreciate that," Stahl replied, sliding from the between the covers and stretching luxuriously. "I'll be downstairs in a little while."
"OK." Tyler turned and left the bedroom, leaving Stahl to grab her cell phone before entering the bathroom. She needed a more private place to make her phone call to the court clerk about delaying the bond revocation hearing. She turned on the built in radio to listen to the news and prevent Tyler from eavesdropping on the other side of the door.
'After she caught me talking to Jax Teller last night, I can't trust that she won't continue to be too curious for her own good.' Stahl dialed the number to the court clerk's office.
"San Joaquin Court, how may I direct your call?"
"Please connect me with the clerk's office."
"One moment."
Stahl rolled her eyes at the music on hold she was forced to endure. 'Christ! This is awful! It sounds worse than the music on the elevator in the 'Blues Brothers' movie!'
Stahl didn't have to endure the aural torture for long. The line became blissfully silent for a second before the Court Clerk greeted her.
"This is Agent Stahl," she replied in her most authoritative tone of voice. "I need to have a bond revocation hearing postponed for 10 days."
"I see, and the names of those whose bond is in question?" The clerk's voice was neutral, not giving away any of her feelings about Stahl's request.
The agent provided the requested information. "It's vitally important to my agency that these men remain out on bond," she added. This was the moment of truth. Some clerks were willing to co – operate with her, others made it their mission in life to place obstacles in her path. To Stahl's relief, this particular clerk was willing to work with her.
"That's not a problem. Hearings get changed all the time around here," the clerk assured her. "All I need is your badge number for reference."
Stahl frowned at her reflection. "Is that really necessary? That could compromise our investigation," she explained.
"It's not required, but I've found that having a badge number noted for these kinds of requests reduces a lot of hassle for me. Some of the judges – and a few political figures – tend to question an unexpected postponement like this. Considering the group involved, they'll be particularly curious."
Stahl drew on all the patience she could muster. "I understand. However, I cannot stress enough that leaving any kind of record like this would jeopardize the investigation. Is there some other way we can handle this? Couldn't you just enter as requested by the ATF?"
"I could," the clerk admitted after a few minutes of silence that had Stahl drumming her fingers on the counter in agitation. "Since yours is a Federal agency, that might be sufficient. I just prefer to cover all the bases. Less aggravation in the long run."
"I understand what you're saying," Stahl gushed enthusiastically. "I also appreciate your doing this for me."
"Anytime, Agent Stahl," the clerk replied.
Stahl closed her cell and sighed with relief. She smiled triumphantly at her image in the mirror, completely overlooking that wide – eyed fanatical expression that made her lover's blood run cold.
'Now I just have to print off Gemma's statement and deliver it to Jax. I can't use the printer at work. I'll take my own car to work, make a stop to print it at one of those print shops that offer computer time. That'll keep curious eyes from it.'
While Stahl was engaged in her morning routine, Tyler went downstairs to check the office computer. She turned it off after a fruitless search of every program. There was nothing to show that Stahl had been on the computer earlier that morning. Even the recycle bin was clear.
'I could probably take this in to the CSI geeks. They could pull the info from the hard drive. But I don't how I could get it to them without arousing June's suspicions.'
She trudged into the kitchen, poured a cup a coffee, and sat down at the table, facing the window. She stared out at the sun dappled backyard, but her eyes didn't see the display Mother Nature was putting on for her.
Rabbits hopped along the hedgerow that separated their yard from the neighbors. Their noses wrinkled from side to side as they checked the air for danger and / or food.
A pair of squirrels sat under the bird feeder, which had a metal Elizabethan collar attached to it. The large opening was pointed to the ground and kept the squirrels from climbing the post to get to the bird seed. They chattered and fussed at the birds flying to and from the feeder, possibly in hopes of catching a dropped seed or two.
A wren, cardinal, blue jay, and other assorted species of birds fluttered about the feeder. Some perched on the wooden pegs for a full meal, while others would take a beak full of seeds and fly off to their nests.
A light breeze made the tree branches sway gently, as if they were doing their own version of the wave. The stirring of the leaves made it look as if the sunlight was dancing on the lawn.
The morning newspaper lay spread out on the table in front of her. The front page featured a write up about Lucas Moran's capture. Tyler saw none of this. Her thoughts were far away, thinking back to the pivotal event that had brought her to this point in her life.
She had worked hard to get accepted by the ATF, and worked even harder to graduate training in the top one percent of the class. She loved the work and wanted to do something constructive to make her country safe. Getting assigned to the Nor Cal area was a major change for her. Tyler had never traveled west of the Mississippi River in her life. The idea of relocating to California appealed to her.
She was welcomed to the Stockton field office, given a desk, and assigned to a team. The team leader was June Stahl, who gave her a cursory greeting and left her to do her work with minimal supervision.
Tyler's first major assignment had been to safeguard a witness to the murder of a port commissioner. The witness had identified a member of the one of the local outlaw motorcycle clubs as the killer. The Sons of Anarchy – or SAMCRO – had a reputation for 'persuading' witnesses to refuse to testify against them in criminal cases. If their powers of 'persuasion' didn't work, witnesses disappeared off the face of the earth, never to give testimony against the club.
Tyler had devoured the case file and learned that the witness, a young woman just barely over the age of 18, had been in the wrong place at the right time. The port commissioner had engaged in a long running affair with the witness, visiting her each week in her shabby, run - down apartment. Her residence the anonymity he desired, so he never set her up in nicer accommodations.
The Port Commissioner had run afoul of the RIRA and SAMCRO. Both entities targeted him for extermination. The club members selected to perform the hit ambushed him as he left the apartment. They didn't know the girl had witnessed the murder. Though frightened by the killing, she managed to wait until the killers departed to call the local police.
The local cops turned the case over to the ATF because of the agency's ongoing investigation into the RIRA. The girl was quickly entered into the witness protection program after identifying the shooter as Bobby Munson, SAMCRO's Secretary. She also was able to provide a useable description of the other club member present at the time of the shooting.
'I didn't know it then, but that artist's rendering led June to make the club believe Opie Winston had become an informant. Had she not leaned so hard on Opie, his wife wouldn't have been killed. June wrote it off to collateral damage at the time. She told me it often happened in this line of work and it was best to get used to it.'
Tyler sighed wearily and took a sip of coffee, which had cooled significantly since she'd sat down at the table. She got up and refilled her cup, then returned to her seat to stare at the newspaper while her mind wandered again to that first assignment.
Tyler was given the task of keeping the scared girl safe and alive until she could testify. Stahl brought the witness to a safe house where uniformed deputy sheriff's waited right outside.
Tyler had questioned the presence of uniformed officers. "Won't that be a dead giveaway? If a member of that club, or anyone else for that matter, spots a patrol car sitting outside for very long, they're sure to know someone of interest is under surveillance at the least. They might even determine we're guarding the witness here!"
Stahl had glared at her for a moment, then her features had softened slightly. "You've been doing your homework," she noted approvingly. "Don't worry. The uniforms are going to be present until we get the girl safely inside. They'll do a drive by every so often, but no more so than they usually make on this street."
Sure enough, plain clothes agents were stationed around the house to keep watch. Tyler's job was to stay with the girl 24/7, keeping her company and incommunicado with the outside world.
That meant the girl couldn't make any telephone calls without Tyler present. She wasn't allowed to go outside at any time, and had to say away from the windows. She could read the newspaper and watch television, otherwise, she was a virtual prisoner.
Though everything possible had been done to make the witness feel secure, she remained anxious and scared. The evening that could've spelled the end to Tyler's short career, the girl had been more nervous than usual.
During the days after she entered the safe house, the girl had expected Stahl to check in with her on a regular basis. She'd put her trust in Stahl, but after bringing her to the safe house, Stahl hadn't returned to visit.
"I feel like the only thing she cares about is solving her case! "
"Agent Stahl has many other duties that take up her time," Tyler assured the girl. "She does care what happens, though. She checks in regularly with me."
"Why doesn't she ever ask to talk to me?" The witness insisted. "Nothing against you, lady, but I feel like she just up and left me."
Tyler felt a twinge of guilt at the small white lie. After the sketch artist had drawn a rendering of the other club member present at the murder, Stahl had used that as a means to go after Opie. Her entire focus was given to finding a way to pry information from him on the club and the RIRA.
Tyler actually called Stahl each morning to give a verbal report of the last 24 hours. The team leader was barely attentive to the report, automatically approving it and disconnecting the line. Tyler and the other agents were left to their own devices. As long as the report showed no casualties, Stahl was happy to leave things as they were so she could pursue the Winston family.
As soon as Stahl answered her call that morning, Tyler had insisted Stahl take a few minutes to talk to their witness.
"She's very anxious. She feels like you've abandoned her."
"That figures!" Stahl retorted. "I was the first agent to hear her story. She latched on to me because I'm a woman; figures I'd be a kindred soul."
"Shall I put her on the phone, then?"
"Good God, no!" Stahl retorted. "Listen, you're a good agent. You're also a woman. Use everything you have in you to get her trust you. I've got other irons in the fire right now and can't be in two places at once."
Tyler's eyebrows shot up her forehead, but she kept her opinion to herself. She knew Stahl was driven to bring down the RIRA and SAMCRO at any cost. She hadn't anticipated that her team leader could be so openly callous about another person's feelings, especially a witness'.
Stahl quickly recognized her mistake by Tyler's heavy silence. "Honestly, Tyler. I'm working on an investigation that might deliver the RIRA and SAMCRO to us in one big basket," she added in a gentler tone of voice. "I wouldn't have asked for you to be assigned to my team if I had any doubts about your ability to carry this off."
Something in Stahl's tone of voice touched Tyler deep inside, causing her heart to race and her stomach to flutter. She hadn't realized that Stahl had specifically singled her out. She'd thought the assignment was just the luck of the draw.
"OK," she replied firmly. "I'll work with her, try to get her to rely on me."
"Good girl!" Stahl's voice was unexpectedly warm in her approval.
Tyler immediately started went right to work on her task, talking to the girl at great length and showing a genuine interest in her, slowly building that all important trust that needed to exist between protected and protector. Within a few days,Tyler had managed to win the witness' over, so that she became less fretful, until that fateful night.
Tyler and the deputies continued to remain vigilant. They knew it would only be a matter of time before the club would determine where to find the witness. Funding issues prevented moving the witness to other safe houses until the day before her testimony.
All was quiet the night all Hell broke loose. The only sounds came from nocturnal animals and the occasional car traveling down the street. The neighbors were safely locked behind closed doors.
The witness had cooked dinner that night. After the dishes were washed, she and Tyler played a game of Monopoly. It was intense, and Tyler focused her attention on the game, forgetting momentarily the reason she was there.
The silence was shattered by a sudden and very loud 'thump' at the front door. The sound made their hearts leap in their throats.
"What was that?" the witness whispered fearfully.
"Could've been a bird flew into the door."
"Yeah, right," the girl mumbled, sharing Tyler's unspoken opinion.
"I'll go check it out. It's probably nothing," Tyler replied soothingly. "Good time to try out our safety plan."
"You really expect me to hide under the bed?" The witness inquired.
"It's the best hiding place. Better than the closet. We've talked about this before. You can do this."
The witness nodded, though she was reluctant to be alone. "Be careful," she whispered before racing to the bedroom and shutting the door behind her.
Tyler cautiously opened the front door, her service revolver held at the ready. There was nothing around the entry large enough to make the loud thumping noise they'd heard.
Her eyes roamed the lawn and the street in front of her, searching the shadows for any signs of danger. Her eyes fell on the walkie - talkie sitting on a lawn chair.
'That's not supposed to be there! Something's not right!' Tyler called out the names of the deputies. Silence met her inquiry. She became more uneasy by the minute.
She started to turn back into the house when three dark clad forms rushed her. Their voices were male, but their faces were covered by ski masks. One had an accent – either Scottish or Irish - she wasn't sure. He was the one who took her gun away and forced her arms behind her back.
All three of them spoke in a rough manner, referring to her as a bitch and asking where the witness was hiding. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet bound at the ankles. Duct tape was applied to her mouth to keep her quiet when it became apparent she wasn't going to provide them with any information.
Tyler expected worse treatment, such as being beaten to a pulp or killed. To her surprise, the worse thing they did to her was bind and silence her before carting her into a room on the opposite end of the house from the bedroom the witness was hiding in.
One of the men, whose voice rasped like steel encased in black velvet, advised her to stay quiet. If she did as she was told, she'd come out alive on the other end. She wanted to laugh out right, as she wasn't exactly in any condition to scream for help.
The man with the steely velvet voice turned out the lights and closed the door. Tyler was left in near darkness. A small amount of light from the street lamps streamed through the small window, giving some illumination to the room.
Tyler waited until her eyes adjusted to the dim light, then surveyed her options. She was bound pretty tight, though not tight enough to cut off the circulation to her feet and hands.
Breaking the window and escaping through it was out of the question. Nor could she try calling out of it for help from the plain clothed agents.
'That walkie - talkie laying on the chair should've warned me the guys were already out of commission!' she thought in retrospect. 'Twenty/twenty hindsight is always so perfect, but it's not going to help me now!'
Even if she could manage to get up, the window was placed far above her head and was the old fashioned crank style that was a favorite of Florida architecture. Not only was that a hindrance, but there was also a screen that would prevent her from getting out.
Breaking the window would alert her captors that she was trying to get attention, which might earn her that beating. The room had no telephone in it. Her cell phone had taken by the assailants.
'Face it, kid, you're stuck in here.' She wiggled closer to the door, placing her ear against it in hopes of hearing whatever was taking place beyond the door. 'I just hope I don't hear the witness get killed!'
The men searched the house for the witness. The back door was still closed so she hadn't escaped that way. They finally found her cowering in fear on a bed in a bedroom.
Tyler couldn't hear their conversation, but could tell they were whispering fiercely with each other about their assignment.
'They didn't expect to find a woman. That might be her salvation.' Despite that, Tyler prepared herself for the sound of a silenced gunshot. She waited, but it never came.
Then she heard another male voice, younger than then men who'd attacked her and very angry. "We don't hurt women!" Tyler could hear that voice very plainly through the door.
She breathed a sigh of relief. It sounded to her as if the witness had gotten a last minute reprieve. The voices continued arguing then the new voice issued a terse order. Tyler heard two sets of footsteps move to the front door. There was a tense silence, then the younger voice sounded off again.
She heard the voice tell the witness to take a good look at the man in front of her and to remember that face. The young voice then hollered for her to run away and keep running. Seconds later, the back door slammed shut.
There was a period of silence, then Tyler heard the unmistakable sound of a fight. Glass shattered, grunts and groans were uttered, fists made contact with flesh. The battle raged for several minutes, then there was complete silence again.
Tyler knew the witness was gone and that the younger voice would ensure she escaped with her life. She didn't know if her fellow agents were dead or alive. She leaned against the door, straining to hear anything from the front room. The only sound she heard was silence.
She wiggled away from the door, certain that the assailants and the witness' savior had left the area. She propped herself against the wall, well out of the way of the door, and tried to relax.
She had no idea whether she remained in that room for minutes or hours. She might've dozed off for awhile. The next thing she was aware of was bright light entering the room from an open door and an uniformed deputy untying her.
Another deputy carefully removed the duct tape from her mouth and offered her a drink of water from a plastic bottle. The water flowed over her parched lips and tongue.
"Are you all right, Agent Tyler?" the deputy working to free her hands and feet inquired anxiously.
"I'm unhurt, just stiff," she replied. Her voice was hoarse from lack of use. She rubbed her hands together to restore the circulation, while the deputy who'd given her the water rubbed her ankles.
She winced from the 'pins and needles' feelings in her extremities. The discomfort only lasted a few moments.
"Can you stand?" The deputy who'd freed her from her bonds asked, offering a hand to assist her.
Tyler nodded and placed her hand in the deputy's, allowing him to help her to her feet. She swayed for a moment until her legs could support her. "Are my co - workers OK?"
"Yes. They were knocked out and locked in the trunk of one of the cars," the other deputy explained. "They're in the living room with Agent Stahl. She's waiting to hear your report."
'Probably waiting to drum me out of the agency!' Tyler thought grimly. 'If she tries that, I'm not going down without a fight! The other agents on the team should back me up that she was didn't provide us proper supervision!'
Tyler straightened her suit coat and gathered her wits about her before entering the living room. Her fellow agents were sitting on the sofa, holding ice bags to their heads.
Stahl was standing in the middle of the living room, surveying the damage from the fight. Lamps were overturned and broken, a couple of chairs had been overturned, and the Monopoly set was strewn all over the floor.
"Looks like a tornado went through," she mused.
"Almost," Tyler replied tersely, glancing at her fellow agents. They nodded at her but remained silent. As the only agent in the house, she was the only person who could give any details on what had gone down.
"Care to tell me what happened?" Stahl inquired. She stared intently at Tyler, arms folded across her chest.
"I think SAMCRO happened, but I can't be sure." Tyler stated ruefully.
Stahl merely continued to stare at her. She didn't crack a smile at Tyler's feeble attempt at matching the other agent's droll humor. "Just tell me the basics, Tyler."
"There was a noise at the door that scared the witness. I sent her to hide and stepped outside to investigate."
"Why didn't you use the radio instead of venturing outside?"
"I didn't think of it at the time," Tyler admitted.
"Well, I'll give you credit for not trying to cover yourself by claiming use of the radio might alert anyone watching the house to the presence of the outside guards," Stahl retorted.
The agents on the sofa winced in empathy for their co - worker. They felt bad for her, but were equally as happy that none of them were being subjected to Stahl's scrutiny.
"I stayed on the front porch," Tyler continued. "There wasn't anything present that could've caused the noise, nor did anything seem amiss. Then I saw the portable radio setting on the porch, and knew something was wrong. Before I could return to the house, three men clad in dark colored clothing and ski masks overpowered me. I was bound and left in the room where the deputies found me."
Tyler felt her knees begin to shake. She willed herself to stand upright, and the effort made sweat bead her forehead.
Stahl righted one of the overturned chairs, indicating with her hand for Tyler to sit down. She gratefully sank onto it, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that she wouldn't further disgrace herself by falling flat on her face.
"Continue. What were you able to hear?"
"Low murmurs from the trio. One of them had an Irish or Scottish accent. The other had a dark, deeper voice, the type of voice that makes you think of steel being removed from a velvet casing. The third voice was deep as well, nothing like the second, just deep."
"Could you hear what they said?" Stahl pressured.
"Not at first. They were very careful not to talk too loud, until a fourth voice burst out. He was younger than the other three. He yelled that they don't hurt women and he told the group to leave. Two did. I heard the younger male yell at our witness." Tyler stopped a moment to take a deep breath.
"Go on," Stahl urged.
Tyler described the how the younger voice had ordered the witness to remember what the remaining assailant looked like, cause he wanted to kill her for ratting out his friend.
"He yelled at her leave and never return. I heard the back door slam, then there was silence, followed by sounds of a fight. It went on for a few minutes, then everything was quiet until the deputies found me."
Stahl turned away from Tyler to bark several questions at the other agents. They explained how the trio had managed to sneak up on them and overpower them, knocking them out, binding them hand and foot, and locking them in the trunk of one of the unmarked cars.
The agents had worked together to free their hands, then worked the back seat forward enough that the smaller could squeeze out into the passenger compartment. Once the doors were unlocked, the agent assisted his companion to freedom, then used the walkie - talkie to call for assistance.
"Maybe the agency should consider using something besides Crown Vics," one of the men quipped. "Those things scream 'cop'."
"There's nothing funny about this!" Stahl snapped angrily. "Thanks to your complete incompetence, we've lost the only witness that could tie Bobby Munson to the murder!"
"Hold on a moment, Stahl!" Tyler cried in protest. "You're the team leader, and you left us high and dry on this assignment to pursue another lead on the RIRA! From what I hear, that didn't go so well, either!"
Stahl glared angrily at the female agent. 'You've got balls to talk back to me like this! That could end your career with anyone else, but I find it fascinating.'
The other agents held their breath in anticipation of a seeing Stahl blow a fuse. She was known for her righteous - and sometime not so righteous - wrath.
"You're right. It did end badly. Donna Winston was killed in a drive - by. Charming PD's Deputy Che if believes otherwise."
"That means this team has back to back failed missions," Tyler observed. "Obviously the supervisors aren't going to be happy about this. So if you think you're going to pin this failure on the three of us, you'd better think again!"
"That sounds like a threat," Stahl purred.
"It's a promise. Yes, I made a verbal report to you, but there's the written reports I haven't turned in yet. Those reports include details on the lack of supervision we endured on this assignment."
Stahl's face paled at the veiled threat. Her respect for Tyler was growing by leaps and bounds. 'This girl's not gonna be bullied!' she mused. Stahl tended to bully other agents, both male and female. Tyler was appearing to be a rare exception to the rule.
"OK, let's not be too hasty. Mistakes were made, I can accept that. We'll concentrate our energy on locating the witness and bringing her back to testify."
"What if we can't find her?" Tyler insisted.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Stahl replied.
The team agreed to present a jointly written report, leaving out Stahl's lack of oversight and Tyler's mistake of not using the radio to contact her fellow agents, enabling the assailants to gain entry to the safe house. The report would indicate the agents were taken by surprise while the witness escaped in the uproar.
The team filed the report and received an official reprimand in their service jackets for the mission's failure. The captured agents were given a day suspension without pay which they used to recover from the ordeal.
The following day, Tyler reported to work as usual to find Stahl leaning against her desk. "How do you feel?" She inquired solicitously.
"Better," Tyler replied quietly, sliding past Stahl to take her chair.
Stahl turned to face the other agent, one leg swinging idly in the air. She laid a hand on Tyler's shoulder and whispered, "I'm glad they didn't hurt you."
Tyler snorted. "You sure have a weird way of showing it!"
"I couldn't let the others see how I feel, Amy," Stahl replied softly. "Believe me, it was very difficult to keep from giving you a hug when you walked into the living room."
Stahl's hand slid from her shoulder to Tyler's elbow in a caressing manner that only she could feel. A slight electric tingle ran through her arm, making her gasp lightly.
Tyler glanced around the office, but none of the other agents were paying any attention to them. "You're taking a pretty big chance. What if I didn't share your feelings?"
"Then we'd go on about our business and never discuss the matter," Stahl replied. "I don't think we have to worry about that, do we?"
Stahl stood up and walked away from Tyler's desk, leaving the other woman to ponder the implications in Stahl's comment.
A few nights later, the pair began to hang out together, being careful to mingle with other agents. They'd meet for coffee in the morning or drinks after work, always in a group setting. Somehow, Stahl always managed to sit next to Tyler. Eventually, Stahl's hand would end up under the table to seek out Tyler's and entangle their fingers together.
The get togethers with other agents gave way to actual dates away from the Stockton area. They'd drive separately to a restaurant, then take in a movie together, ending the night at a hotel. This continued until Stahl suggested that they move in together.
"But won't that spotlight what we're doing?" Tyler inquired worriedly.
"Not if we're careful, baby," Stahl assured her. "We're say that we're going to rent a house as room mates to save money. Being roommates would be accepted, no one would think anything else is going on. We'd be able to drive in together, using the same 'saving money' excuse."
"Our co - workers and supervisors will accept that at face value?"
Stahl shrugged languidly. "In this economy? Of course they will. The supervisors will appreciate that we're saving the taxpayers money by only driving one car most of the time!"
Tyler had to admit that Stahl seemed to have figured everything out to the last detail. She finally gave in and Stahl moved into the house Tyler rented. No one at the office inferred anything into their domestic arrangement.
"I see the paper has a story on Moran's arrest," Stahl proclaimed, laying a hand on Tyler's shoulder, startling her out of her reverie.
"Y - yeah," she stammered, feeling her heart race from the surprise. "It's not much. I'm surprised they got the story at all."
"The Press Liaison works fast when he has to," Stahl replied, sliding into the chair next to Tyler's, placing a mug of coffee in front of her. "Naturally, the agency would want to publicize the arrest without giving too much away and scaring off bigger game."
"I suppose so," Tyler agreed.
"Did you eat anything?"
Tyler shook her head. "Not really that hungry right now. I can always grab a granola bar later if I get peckish."
Stahl nodded and turned her gaze to the paper. "You'll need to take your own car in to the office," she announced.
"Wh - why? I thought we were going in together!"
Stahl looked up, appearing genuinely remorseful at the prospect of driving in on her own. "We were. I've got an errand to run before Gemma gives her deposition to the US Attorney. I'll meet you at the hospital."
"Are you sure?" Tyler asked. 'Maybe I can sneak the laptop to the CSIs and have them retrieve the deleted files!'
Stahl nodded. "In fact, why don't you go on ahead? There's no reason for you to follow me out of town. I'm starved, thought I'd eat breakfast."
'So much for that idea! If I protest, or try to hang around, June will want to know why.' Tyler felt her heart fall into her stomach. She could see she had no choice.
"OK, then. Guess I'll see you later," Tyler took her cup to the sink and rinsed it out.
Stahl came up behind her and embraced Tyler, laying her head against Tyler's back. "It's going to be all right, baby. Once Gemma gives her statement, we can concentrate on putting SAMCRO away."
Tyler momentarily tensed at Stahl's touch, but quickly willed herself to relax. "I'm looking forward to it," she replied, turning to face her lover.
Stahl cupped Tyler's face in her hands and kissed her passionately. "I'll see you later, baby. Be careful out there."
The arrangement of tables under the awning outside the clubhouse had changed. The two picnic tables were further away from the parking area, a square table was placed next to the lot.
Tig sat at that table, his back to the garage and the row of bikes parked along the railing. He was tired from the trip to Klamath Falls and back the day before and had just listened to a phone message that didn't improve his mood. He certainly didn't want to talk to anyone before the vote.
That didn't prevent Clay from seeking out his SAA. He was determined to make sure that Tig was on board with voting in favor of Kozik's transfer. He ambled outside, beer bottle in hand, to join his friend, settling into a chair next to Tig where he could watch the door.
Chuckie was clearing the picnic table of glasses and bottles left from the previous night, balancing a tray on his arms. Tig watched in admiration as Chuckie worked. 'The little guy just never lets up! Wonder if he can still pull it with two fingers?'
Chuckie turned towards the door and noticed Tig was holding a coffee cup. "Want me to bring a beer for you?"
"Nah. Could stand a refill," he hefted his cup. "Coffee. Black. Cat's stuff if it's brewed."
Chuckie was surprised by Tig's request. If Clay was drinking beer, so did Tig. 'I've never heard him ask for coffee around here. Guess that trip must've really worn him down!'
Chuckie nodded. "I accept that. Cat's stuff is all we keep around here. Be right back."
Tig shook his head and lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag on it, then released the smoke in one long plume. Clay lit up one of his cigars and leaned back in his chair, studying his friend behind his sunglasses.
Chuckie returned with a single coffee cup, placing it in front of Tig. "Just as you requested, Tig. Fresh brewed. Hope it does Miss Cat justice!"
Tig picked up the cup, inhaled the aroma and took a sip. 'Whiskey Blend!' He nodded to indicate the brew was acceptable.
"I accept that," Chuckie grinned. "Let me know when you want a refill." He trotted back into the clubhouse, leaving the door wide open.
The rest of the club was inside the clubhouse. Bobby was talking to the Canadian tracker about refunding their money. The others were talking to the potential prospects and Happy.
'Might as well get this over with,' Clay took a pull from his beer and cleared his throat.
"I know what you're gonna say. Wish ya wouldn't," Tig rumbled before Clay could utter a word.
"Sorry, brother. I gotta. You know what we're facin' and why we need Kozik."
Tig rubbed the bridge of his nose in agitation. "Hell, We already have a quorum with Ope, Piney, Chibs, and Hap!"
Clay shook his head. "Piney's been coastin' for years, barely done enough to keep his patch."
Tig took another drag of his cigarette. "I don't agree, Clay. Piney comes through when things are hot." It was a subtle reminder of the take - charge attitude Piney had shown in rescuing Tig from the bounty hunters.
"Yeah, but once in a while isn't all the time. If anyone's gonna lead the club while we're in Stockton, it's gonna be Ope. Look how he handled the thing with Donna. That could've torn the club to shreds. He held it together."
'Ouch!' Tig winced inwardly. "We still don't need Kozik. We're transferrin' Hap, votin' in three prospects. That's a good seven. If we need help, there's always the Nomads."
"The Nomads aren't there to fill our table. You know that. We gotta have another fully patched member, that's Kozik. There's no other alternative." Clay sat forward, his hands wrapped around his beer bottle. "Can't you two put your differences aside? He did pretty good in the fight with Weston and his gang."
"Yeah. He also hurt my woman at the hospital!" Tig growled. "Not to mention he went there to stir up trouble about the girl that got killed."
Clay held up his hand. "I know. I talked to him about that when he came down for Sack's funeral. He seems different since the lock down."
"Seems to me he's up to his usual tricks," Tig countered angrily.
"Whaddya mean?"
Tig deliberately allowed Clay to stew as he raised his cup to his lips and took an appreciate swallow of the brew. "The fucktard showed up at the house last night while Cat and I were gone. June said he was lookin' for me. Kinda spooked her."
'Damn him! Always goin' off and shootin' himself in the ass!' Clay fumed inwardly. This was the first he'd known that Kozik was already in the area. He hadn't expected the Tacoma SAA to arrive until the vote. "Yeah, I guess somethin' like that would upset a lady like her. June doin' OK?"
"Yeah. She took it in stride. Guess she's been hangin' around Cat long enough to handle what would freak out most mundanes."
"Dammit! I told him not to go anywhere near your house!" Clay stormed.
"Shows how well he listens," Tig observed dryly.
'I've gotta bad feelin' about this,' Clay moaned inwardly. "Do I wanna hear this?"
"Prolly not, but you need to know this," Tig grinned ruthlessly. "Got a message from my girl. Kozik stopped in at the coffeehouse a bit ago."
Clay slammed his fist on the table in exasperation. "Shit!"
Tig relented and held up a hand. "She's a'right. Fucktard didn't do anythin' to piss her off. Said he's on his way. Now do ya see why I have issues with the guy?"
"Don't make me beg, Tig," Clay replied softly. "Think about the good of the club."
"I always do," Tig replied dryly. He nodded towards the door, indicating they were no longer alone. Opie and Piney sauntered out the door to join them. Opie carried a cup of coffee and settled in the chair to Tig's right. Piney chose to sit on the picnic table next to them.
Clay glanced at Tig, silently calling attention to the way Piney put distance between himself and the group. Though there were plenty of chairs available, Piney was choosing to maintain physical distance from them.
"How's it goin' in there?" Clay asked Opie of Bobby's phone call.
"Doesn't sound promising. Bobby's trying hard, but I get the impression the tracker isn't very sympathetic," Opie replied.
"It's good that we're adding new blood to the herd," Piney added. "Phil and Miles show promise. I'm not so sure about Sebastian. He's got a mouth on him."
"He'll either learn to put a leash or on it or he won't make it through his prospect year," Tig observed.
"Glad we're bringin' Happy back in. He's a good man. Been missed," Piney added. He grinned playfully at Tig. "Guess you're not lookin' forward to the other transfer vote."
"No shit," Tig muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.
Chuckie magically appeared with another beer for Clay and the coffee pot. He poured refills for Tig and Opie and set the bottle in front of Clay, grabbing the dead soldier to take inside to the recycle bin.
Bobby trudged out of the clubhouse, his cell phone still plastered to his ear. He was followed by Juice, Chibs, and Jax.
Bobby paused in front of Clay, while Juice slid gingerly into the seat next to Opie. Juice's face was a patchwork of bruises and bandaged cuts. Chibs stood beside Bobby, directing behind Clay and Jax took a seat in front of the clubhouse door.
Juice missed his cut. He felt naked and vulnerable without it. He found little relief from the fact that Opie wasn't wearing his cut. 'Opie can put his on anytime. I can't, until I get it back from that rat fink Salazar.'
Bobby snapped his cell closed and shoved it in his pocket. He announced that the tracker wasn't going to give them a refund for services not rendered. He moved past Clay and Chibs to lean against the drain spout in one of the awning supports.
That news didn't set well with Opie. It was through his sacrifice of the panhead that the club had gotten the money for the tracker in the first place. He silently rose from his chair and turned his back to his brothers, then heaved his coffee cup across the back end of the compound. The cup shattered, sending a spray of coffee and shards of china all over. It didn't make him feel better.
"Dunno why you're getting' all bent outta shape!" Bobby huffed. "If we had gotten the money back, it wouldn't have gone back in your pocket!"
Opie glared across the table at Bobby. "I'm aware of that. It's not like Gerry would sell the panhead back to me, anyway. I'm pissed that the guy is holdin' onto our money when we could put it to better use!"
Bobby held up his hands in surrender. He was just as worried as any of them about the financial hit the club was taking to make the trip. It didn't help that what money they'd made from the sale of the 'roids had been taken by the Calavarez, along with Juice's cut.
Jax brought up the HIV meds. Juice pointed out there was no money to be made on the street with them. The best they could do was to sell them on the black market to a clinic.
Clay asked about getting Tara to help with selling the medicine, despite knowing the VP had serious reservations about it. They had no choice. The club needed Tara's help to get to the clinics that could use the drugs and pay for them.
Jax openly defied his step - father and president. It was one thing for Tara to tend the wounds they couldn't risk getting treated at the hospital. It was another to involve her in something that was against the law. Black market drugs, even those that would help the sick, was a felony.
Clay didn't see it that way. Tara was Jax's old lady, she should do whatever the club needed to her to do. It was as simple as black and white to Clay. It wasn't so simple to Jax. When Tig stated that they had no choice, the VP snapped at his brothers, putting a halt to the conversation.
Kozik's bike roared past as they discussed the upcoming hijacking of the Mayan's heroin shipment. The main concern was the lack of coverage along the highway the van would use to take it down.
Jax challenged them to get creative. There had to be way to do it without arousing undue attention.
"There's construction in that area, trucks lose supplies," Tig murmured. "Van gets a flat tire, a friendly Teller - Morrow tow truck trollin' for disabled vehicles 'happens' to come along, gives the truck a lift. That's how we make off with the goods."
"Just how do we make sure their van is the only one with a flat?" Piney grumbled. "It's not like we can spread sharp objects along the highway and hope no one else picks one up!"
"True dat," Chibs replied. "At layst it's a start!"
"Stands to reason the Calavarez will downplay their presence," Opie added. "Maybe one or two riders as escorts, another in the van with the delivery men. The Calavarez riders might hang back from the van. They'd draw too much attention to it if they stayed close."
"Aye!" Chibs nodded approvingly. "We culd pull up next ta tha van, pop a bullet inta a tyre, get away clean afure tha escorts see us!"
Tig shook his head. "Nah, any bike comin' near that delivery van will alert 'em that somethin's up."
"Not if we use the van," Juice spoke up. "One of us drives, pulls up next to the van at a stop. Calavarez will be too far behind to see what's goin' on. Slide open the door, shoot the tire, go off in the opposite direction."
The men knew a workable plan when they heard it.
Opie clapped Juice on the shoulder, the vibration from the gesture making him wince. "Good thinking, brother. Except for one thing. Salazar knows the van."
"Salazar won't be anywhere near the delivery," Clay announced. "He's not willin' to do the grunt work. Any chance the van was seen when ya cased the place the other day?"
Bobby shook his head. "We parked pretty far away from the dock, front end pointed out. From that far away, it would look like any other van."
"Tig, you'll drive. Take Hap to do the shooting. Use a silencer. Piney, you'll drive the tow truck." He glanced at Kozik making his way to the group and added, "Take Kozik with ya."
"Aren't you puttin' the cart before the horse, Clay? Vote's not been taken yet," Piney replied, eying Tig knowingly.
"Just do it! Use shirts without name patches on 'em. They might wanna put one of their men in the truck with ya. Let 'em. Koz can take 'em out when the time comes."
Piney grinned, knowing he'd gotten under Clay's skin with his remark about the vote. "There's one area, a turn off across from the Wolcott Way turnoff. Gravel access road. Go a little further in, there's plenty of those concrete sewer pipes piled around, masks the area from the highway. We can take 'em down there."
Tig added that he'd left word with Alvarez to meet with the club after the delivery was due at Stockton. Clay was certain the Mayan leader would show when his drugs went missing. 'He's smart enough to put two and two together.'
Clay didn't mention his intention to meet with Unser and Oswald. There would be time enough to bring it to the club if and when he had to. " I've asked TO to have the Bastards join us when we meet with Alvarez," he announced. "Meanwhile, let's get inside and get this vote done."
The men got up from their chairs as Kozik walked up to join them. He held a sealed envelope in his hand, the transfer letter from the SAMTAW President.
The club was subdued in greeting Kozik. They were well aware of the bad feeling that existed between him and Tig. Clay seemed to feel that the vote was a sure thing, but they knew Tig could be a wild card at times.
Tig didn't speak to Kozik. He stared straight ahead as he started past the would - be transfer. Kozik moved to intercept him, gazing earnestly at him.
"Can I have a moment with Tig before the vote?" Kozik asked Clay. Clay peered past Koz to his SAA. Tig gave no indication whether he wanted to talk to Kozik or not. Clay nodded agreement and walked into the clubhouse.
Kozik seemed hesitant, almost timid in confronting his one time friend and current nemesis. He wanted to let Tig know that he knew how much pressure was being put on the SAMCRO SAA to vote in favor of the transfer. Kozik was so nervous that he knocked over the half full beer bottle Clay had left on the table.
Kozik picked up the bottle, setting it down with a thump that made the beer foam. Tig covered the flow with one finger, grunting a short query.
Kozik rushed to express his empathy for Tig's situation. Tig uttered a terse, one word reply and stepped around the rider, heading for the clubhouse entry.
Kozik quickly whirled, grabbing the back of Tig's cut to stop him. He cried out that he could be an asset.
'Oh no! You did not just touch my cut!' Tig turned slowly to face his adversary, standing nearly chest to chest with Kozik.
He could hear Cat's voice in his head, issuing an elegant snort of derision followed by wryly commenting, "He's got the 'ass' part right!'. For a moment he imagined her standing at his back, watching out for him, even though she was blocks away.
Kozik's eyes locked with Tig's, pleading for the impossible. Begging Tig to give him one more chance. His desire to patch back in to SAMCRO was as plain as the nose on his face.
None of that moved Tig to change his mind about his vote. He'd made his decision and there was nothing Kozik could do or say that could make a difference.
He growled another short query at Kozik. The Tacoma SAA didn't have to be hit between the eyes with a two by four to know he was wasting his time pleading his case with Tig.
Tig turned and strode into the clubhouse without another word or backward glance. His back was ramrod straight, his gaze fixed on the chapel.
Kozik treaded water at the door. 'If I hadn't already burned my bridges with SAMTAW, I'd get on the bike and head back. There's nothin' left for me there. I've got a really bad feelin' about this.'
He shuffled towards the chapel, feeling like an innocent man being led to the death chamber. He nodded briefly at the three potential prospects then palmed open the door to take his place in a corner of the chapel.
Agent Stahl sat in the second row of pews in the chapel of St. Thomas hospital. Anyone looking through the chapel windows would think she was praying for a friend or family member. Prayer was the furthest from her mind. She held a leather binder in her lap, waiting for Jax Teller.
Inside the binder lay the statement Gemma was to give to the US Attorney. It was a near word for word copy of her radio status report from the Hayes' house in Galt. Stahl had gone to great pains to prepare it after Tyler had left to go to the field office.
Stahl had taken her own vehicle to Oaktown. She wasn't recognizable there and could do what she needed to do without fear of discovery. Her first stop was to a large printing / shipping chain that offered computer access to customers for a per minute fee.
Stahl downloaded the document she'd prepared from her flash drive onto the PC, then sent it to the printer, selecting 8 1/2 x 14 paper. The print shop also offered customers the use of collating equipment for free. One of the hole punches suited her needs. She paid in cash so she wouldn't leave a document trail.
Stahl made her next purchase at an office supply store across town. She found a top loading, two pronged document cover in light blue, just a little larger than the printed document. The cover was same size and color the agency used for all their legal documents and she again paid cash for her purchases. She was proud of the finished product. It looked as if it'd been prepared at headquarters.
She returned to her parked car, feeling a sense of satisfaction in her progress. She knew both Jax and Gemma would question the minute change in the details. She didn't owe them an explanation. She only needed to explain the derivation to her superiors, and then only if they asked about it.
Stahl punched a button on her cell phone; the prepay number Jax had given her the night before.
"Yeah."
"Where and when do you want to make the exchange?"
"St Thomas' Chapel. One hour."
Stahl's eyes widened in surprise. "Why there?"
"Think about it."
She did. It was quiet, little used. There was less chance of being observed by the wrong people. He could take it straight to Gemma with little interference.
"I won't wait long," she advised.
"You won't have to."
The line went dead. She'd heard noise in the background and figured he wasn't in a position to speak freely. 'Just as well. Any talking should be face to face anyway.'
The chapel was quiet and deserted. She would give Jax five minutes past their agreed upon appointment. If he didn't show, the deal would die. She hoped he would be late.
Jax strode into the chapel right on time, dashing her hopes to kill the deal. He slid into the pew behind her, his demeanor brisk, wanting to know why the bond hearing hadn't been delayed.
She informed him she was back on the RIRA investigation, thanks to the capture of Lucas Moran, reminding him working with other agencies always involved red tape.
Jax snorted in exasperation, pointing out red tape was her problem. He'd delivered, now it was her turn to do so.
She opened the binder and passed the document across to him. She instructed him to have Gemma repeat it as close to verbatim as possible during the deposition.
Jax skimmed the document, then looked questioningly up at her. 'This isn't as Mom described! What's she up to?'
Stahl assured him the minute changes were none of his or Gemma's concern. She instructed him to get his mother's co-operation any way he had to.
Jax shrugged. 'Not my problem if she wants to throw one of her own under the truck.'
Stahl stood and slipped out of the pew to walk quickly out of the chapel. She didn't care about Jax's opinion, only that Gemma co operate. She didn't notice Clay Morrow stride down the hallway behind her. The fact that the chapel was still intact after she'd been inside intrigued him. Instead of following her, he paused at the door to the chapel and peeked inside.
He wasn't too surprised to see Jax rise from a pew. Jax wasn't a religious person. That was true of most of the club. They sometimes looked to a higher power in a moment of need, such as dire injury to a member. Church, to the club, was where they met to discuss their business.
He stepped inside, figuring he had a better chance of enlisting Jax's co – operation to recruit Tara's help with the HIV meds in the privacy of the chapel than he'd had at the clubhouse. He growled an inquiry into Stahl's departure from the chapel.
Jax assured his president that was going according to plan without directly referring to the plan. He made a move to exit, but Clay indicated he should sit in the back row beside him.
Jax was reluctant to return to that conversation. He'd tried several times without success to split with Tara since Abel was taken. No matter how much he wanted to be with her, their lives had taken different paths.
He and Clay would never agree about an old lady's role with the club. Jax was able to see the bigger picture. Women like Tara couldn't and shouldn't be expected to get involved in some of the more clandestine aspects of the club. Jax knew if they continued their relationship, it would cause irreparable harm to Tara's career.
Clay attributed Jax's feelings to guilt. He'd noticed that the relationship between Tara and his VP had been frayed while they were at the Madoc home. 'That relationship has more ups and downs than a roller coaster!' He advised his VP if he and Tara go separate ways, he needed to get her help with the HIV meds, unless he never wanted to recover his son.
Clay's words slapped Jax like a fist to the head. He didn't want to put Tara's career in jeopardy; but he didn't want to lose this chance to recover his child. Wearily, he agreed to seek Tara's help.
Clay nodded in satisfaction and rose from his seat. Things were beginning to look hopeful for them. He'd already discussed the travel situation with Gemma before leaving her with Lowen to prepare for the deposition. Lowen had informed them she'd worked out a deal with the US Attorney, no death penalty if Gemma added to the two killings in Galt. He'd worried that Stahl had double crossed them. Jax's assurances eliminated that concern.
"You don't see it now, but you'll realize later that I'm right about this," Clay added. "There's too much at stake to let your heart rule your head. I'll see you later at the meet with Alvarez."
Jax didn't respond to his stepfather's parting comment. He gazed around the chapel, then slumped over, hands clasped between his knees. He knew what he had to do, for the good of his club, his lady, and his son. He prayed for whatever higher power existed to give him the strength to see it through.
Pete watched the security monitor with an eagle eye. If the Tacoma SAA raised one finger wrong against his boss, not only would he call Mr. Tig, he'd come to her defense with the baseball bat himself.
He sighed with relief when the sandy haired biker took his coffee cup to the counter and left the premises without incident. 'I hope that's the last we see of him!' He walked out of the office and stuck his head into the break room.
"All clear?" Adrian inquired sheepishly.
"The asshat's gone, and Miss Cat's OK. She looks worn out, though," Pete replied. "I was watchin' the security monitor the entire time."
"Sorry to punk out, man. There was something about that guy that bothered me. I just wanted to be as far from him as I could get."
"No worries, dude," Pete assured his co - worker. "Wouldn't have helped our boss if either of us had tried to pick a fight with 'em."
Adrian nodded. "You're probably right." He walked out to the front with his co - worker, not too surprised to see their employer sitting in the wing backed chair with her eye closed. Pete walked over to her while Adrian resumed prepping for the lunch rush.
"You OK, Miss Cat?" he inquired anxiously.
"Yeah, darlin'," she assured him without opening her eye. "Just got a little headache. It'll pass."
"Maybe you should go home until the staff meeting," he suggested.
She opened her eye to favor him with 'The Look'. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," she growled, accepting the arm he held out to help her get up. "I'll just hide out in the office for awhile. Today's shoppin' day, isn't it?"
"Yes, ma'am. Miss Anna's due in after the rush. We usually go to the store between noon rush and the staff meeting," he explained.
"See me before y'all go. I'll have some additions to the list." She limped towards the back doorway, tossing an encouraging word to Adrian as she passed him.
She settled tiredly into her office chair, allowing only the illumination from the outer area inside. Her eyelid felt like lead, it was all she could not to fall asleep at the desk. 'I'm tempted to tape the damn thing open, but feel too tired to that much! I'm tired of bein' tired!'
She resolutely wiggled the computer mouse, waking the PC from sleep mode to review her notes for the meeting. Not only was she going to inform her staff about her decision to run for office, but she had decided to add another confection to the pastry line up.
She reviewed the spreadsheet she'd been working on before Kozik interrupted her. The spreadsheet contained cost analysis for the new confection, comparisons of using a mix versus individual ingredients, and which method of sale would be more profitable, slices or squares.
She planned to have her employees input on the new addition before incorporating it into the daily offerings. Though she was the owner, she was a firm believer in letting those who had to deal with the work help in the process.
It had irritated her as an employee to have a manager with no knowledge of the work being done implement a process without seeking input from the work force. Often those processes made the work harder, or didn't work at all.
As an employer, she found her staff's input invaluable. Seeking their opinion instead of adopting a 'deal with it' attitude made her staff more loyal to her.
Looking over the data on the new addition made her think of her man. 'The vote's happened by now. Haven't felt any quakes in the earth, so things must be all right that way,' she thought wryly. 'I can only imagine Kozik's reaction to bein' denied a transfer!'
She decided to make something special for Alex; something that would make the sting of going against Clay a little easier. She'd been toying with the idea and decided to dive into the project while she felt up to it. She picked up her portable tape player, selected a tape to listen to, and plugged her headphones into the machine so she'd have something different from the store music to listen to while she worked.
Cat limped into the store room to collect the ingredients she'd need. A pound of whole beans and some Snickers bars. She carried the beans to the roaster and got that process started. While the beans roasted, she unwrapped the candy bars and ran them through the old fashioned hand grinder she preferred to use.
Miss Anna had asked her early in her employment why Cat didn't use a food processor. "Seems like it'd be a lot easier."
"That's true. But I don't like the size and texture of the finished product," she'd explained. "There's some things that are best done the old fashioned way, and this is one of 'em! This old grinder might be slow, but a body gets a little exercise from usin' it, and can count on gettin' the chunks the right size and texture every time."
Cat toyed with the idea of using the food processor for the experiment, but decided against it. There was something about the cranking motion of the grinder that appealed to her.
She ran the bars through the grinder until she had the consistency she wanted for the experiment. By the time she'd finished grinding the candy, the beans were roasted.
She carried the warm beans and the finely ground candy to the kitchen, where she kept a four cup coffeepot for such occasions. She ran the beans through the mini grinder, which helped cool the beans from the roasting process. When the beans were ground to the right texture, she thoroughly mixed the dry ingredients, spreading a small amount on a paper towel to examine the color, texture, and aroma.
The color looked good to her. It wasn't easy to tell what was coffee and what was candy. The aroma of coffee, chocolate, nuts, and caramel was appealing. 'If it tastes as good as it looks and smells, this could be a contender with the whiskey blend, providing Alex doesn't try to hoard it for himself!'
Alex stifled a twinge of pain from his wounded shoulder as he parked the bike in the drive and dismounted. 'I should've known she'd be workin' instead of takin' it easy!' he fumed inwardly.
He strode through the back yard to the gate that separated the coffeehouse from their premises. He used his key to unlock the gate and the back door, slipping inside and allowing his eyes time to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dimmer interior light.
The meeting had come to an abrupt end when he'd cast the negative vote against Kozik's transfer. Kozik had looked hopeful until Tig uttered the decisive "Nay" vote, going against Clay's terse reminder that he really wanted Kozik added to the roster.
'How can I count on him to have my back, when everything he's done up to now tells me he won't? It's too much of a risk; the club's got enough trouble without him addin' to it!' He ignored Clay's betrayed glare and Kozik's dejected expression after he cast his vote. Whether Clay accepted it or not, Tig knew he'd done what he felt was best for his club, his woman, and himself.
The doors to the chapel burst open. Happy was surrounded by his brothers, congratulating him on his successful transfer. The prospects rushed to start filling glasses for the celebration, prompted by Tig to hurry it up.
Kozik stood dejectedly between Clay and Jax, watching the celebration. Clay suggested Kozik stick around as there would be another vote once they returned with Abel. "You'll patch in for sure," Clay assured him.
Jax glanced at his president, wondering if it was a good idea to tell Kozik about the plan when he wasn't officially a part of SAMCRO yet. 'It makes sense, though. We need his help, whether he transfers or not. Maybe Tig doesn't trust Koz, but Clay does.'
Before he could suggest they take Kozik aside and bring him up to speed, Kozik muttered something about setting the healing in motion. He ran up on Tig, whose back was turned to him, hitting his nemesis right on his shoulder wound.
That spurred Tig to react, swinging a punch in Kozik's face. The fight that followed was short, but vicious. Both men landed serious facial blows on each other, and Tig wound up biting a chunk out of Kozik's arm, spitting the meat out of his mouth as if it were rotten.
The fight ended with Clay wading in between them, roaring for the combatants to stop the infighting immediately. "We don't have time for this shit! What's done is done!" he added, glaring at both men.
Kozik's eye and the side of his face was raw and bleeding from Tig's rings. The right side of Tig's face was battered, but not as badly cut as his opponent's. Clay was more worried about Tig's shoulder. "Better go get that shoulder checked out," he advised his friend.
Clay didn't wait for Tig to reply, turning his fury on Kozik. "You fuckin' idiot! Did ya have to hit him in the shoulder? He's got a bullet wound there!"
Kozik's face paled. "I didn't know! Shit!"
"Ya didn't ask!" Clay countered angrily. "Thanks to you, Tig's gonna be tied up at the ER when we need him for the hijackin'!"
"I'm not goin' to the ER!" Tig interjected. "Takes too long. It prolly ain't that bad. I'll have Cat take a look at it. She's used to patchin' me up after a fight."
"What if -"
Tig turned and strode out of the clubhouse without a backward glance at his brothers, disregarding Clay's inquiry. 'Cat tried to assure me she was a'right, but her voice told a difference story. She's upset about it. So am I. I need to make sure she really is a'right. Then maybe I won't kill the asshat!'
The office was dark, but he knew she was on the premises. He didn't like the idea of going out into the customer area; he'd rather see his woman in private. The light in the kitchen was on, and he heard the unmistakable sound of her voice, singing along to music that differed from what was playing out front.
Alex grinned and leaned against the door frame to the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest. Cat was leaning against the counter, watching the small coffeepot run its' brewing cycle. 'She's workin' on a new blend. Smells good; hope she'll ask me to try it!'
She was oblivious to his presence. Pete and Adrian were in the front, she didn't expect Alex to come back before nightfall. She knew without him telling her before he left there was too much on the club's agenda for him to get away.
She had her headphones on, listening to a mix of ballads that helped her recall pleasant events from her past. She was singing along with one of the cuts from the Little River Band, but the words were her own.
'So Alex!
Let me take a look at you now.
You're astride that Dyna
Makin' me want you somehow.
Oh, Alex!
I think it's only fair
I should say to you
Don't be thinkin' that I don't want you,
'Cause baby I do!'
His chest puffed to hear her put her feelings for him to song so openly, without worrying that someone would overhear. Coming on the heels of the earlier misunderstanding, the song lifted his spirits. He felt like he could soar with the eagles. He couldn't resist sneaking up behind her to put his arms around her.
Without removing her headphones, Cat turned to face him, a knowing smirk on her face. "Sorry, stud! Y'all forgot that the oven is stainless steel and makes for a pretty good mirror!" She removed her headphones and added, "Besides, y'all should know by now that it's not wise to sneak up on me!"
Alex grinned in response and drew her against his chest, cradling her head against his heart. "True, dat. But the numbers of times I've gotten a reward make the risk of gettin' punished worth it!"
Cat removed her injured arm from the sling to slide both arms around his waist, rubbing her face against his chest as she did so. Seeing for themselves that each had survived their individual encounters with Kozik was a comforting as their mutual embrace.
'I didn't realize how nervous Kozik's appearance made me, love!' she observed inwardly, unwilling to let him know her true feelings. She allowed herself to relax in her man's strong arms.
'She's tense. Fucktard must've gotten on her nerves,' Alex mused to himself. 'Wonder what he thought he was gonna accomplish by comin' here?'
He shrugged mentally, knowing she'd tell him when she was ready. He sniffed the air in the kitchen appreciatively.
"Whatcha makin', baby? Smells good."
"A new coffee blend y'all inspired," she replied. "You're just in time to try it out."
He took a step back to give her an incredulous look. "You made a coffee blend for me? Why?"
"Why not?" she shrugged. "I've been playin' with the idea for awhile, and y'all were on my mind. It just felt right."
Alex felt overwhelmed by her gesture. He stifled the ribald quip that came to mind, knowing it would not be appreciated.
"I don't recall takin' your tongue away from y'all," she chuckled, unable to resist teasing him over his silence.
"Huh?"
"No one's ever asked y'all if a cat's got your tongue when you've been too quiet?"
He shook his head slightly. "Oh. That. No, ya don't have it, not for a lack of tryin'!"
Her eye twinkled at him as she poured coffee into two large china cups. "Take your pick, love."
He grasped the cup closest to him, holding it in both hands, surprised that they shook with emotion. He brought the cup to his nose, taking a deep sniff of the aroma.
"I smell chocolate - and nuts?"
"And caramel," she added, holding her own cup with one hand as she returned her injured arm to the sling.
"Is this Snicker Bar Coffee?"
She nodded, her expression imploring him to take the first taste.
"Damn, woman! You're not gonna be happy until ya spoil me rotten!"
"Not too hard to do," she replied.
He took a swig of the hot liquid, letting it roll over his tongue. The candy taste was evident, but subtle.
Cat took an experimental sip of her own. It tasted all right to her, but she didn't like the aftertaste that lingered. It was too sweet for her liking, so she set the coffee on the counter with a grimace.
He nodded approvingly. "Seems to me ya could have gotten the same result by meltin' one or two bite size bars in the drink! Save ya a lotta time and effort!" He winced in anticipation of another blow up, realizing he's spoken without thinking again.
"I only meant -"
She shook her head and held up a hand to stop him. "I know. Y'all were thinkin' of my welfare this time, love," she assured him. "Don't y'all think you're worth a little discomfort?"
"I wouldn't put it that way!" he protested.
"I know," she grinned, leaning insolently against the counter. Her expression sobered as she added, "Doesn't look like Kozik took your vote very well."
Alex sighed inwardly. He'd feared she'd done too much and was too tired to notice the new injuries on his face. "Ya had me worried for a bit there, baby."
She grinned up at him. "Y'all are alive and standin' on your own two feet. Figured it wasn't that bad of a brawl. Looks like y'all could use a little TLC, though."
"You catch on fast! Need ya to take a look at my shoulder. Asshat cold cocked me there."
"Why didn't y'all say so in the first place?" she cried.
"It would've come up in the conversation," he replied. He felt a rush of warmth spread through him at the knowledge that she worried over his well being every bit as much as he worried about hers.
She grabbed him by the hand and led him from the kitchen, not caring if the coffee sloshed all over the floor. "Come with me to my office!"
"Lemme put this down, baby!" he protested, placing the half full cup on the counter. He allowed her to lead him out of the kitchen. "Hey! We're passin' your office!"
"We're goin' to the auxiliary office, love," she explained, pulling him towards the bathroom. It was also the coffeehouse's first aid station. A well stocked medicine cabinet was mounted on the wall.
She pointed at the clothes hook on the back of the door. "Take off your cut and shirt, hang 'em up there, then sit on the counter so I can take a look at that shoulder!"
Alex grinned at her instructions, nodding meekly as he complied. He inwardly liked having her boss him around in this instance. 'Just as long as she doesn't get any ideas about bossin' me around all the time!'
Cat rooted around in the medicine cabinet, selecting the supplies she might need for Alex's shoulder. She selected gauze pads, adhesive tape, antibiotic cream, and sterile cleaning pads and applicators.
She placed the items on the counter on the opposite side of the sink from the side Alex was leaning against. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever damage Kozik might have done to Alex's shoulder wound.
"If that fucktard undid all the healin', I'll do worse than threaten to denut him with one well aimed shot!" she grumbled.
"I don't think he did anything but break the scab open, baby," Alex replied soothingly. "Not worth threatenin' his junk."
"You just let me be the judge of that!" she snorted, turning to inspect the injury. Sure enough, there was a blood stain on the gauze she'd put over the wound just that morning. "He definitely broke the damn scab open. It's bleedin', but not profusely. Yet."
"Didn't think it was. It does hurt a little," he admitted.
"I'd think it would hurt a lot from the looks of this!" She opened one of the cleansing pads and carefully touched it to the outside of the wound.
"Shit! That's cold!" he winced and pulled slightly away from her.
"Can't be helped, love, and stop wrigglin'!" she protested. "I'm only usin' one hand, and can't treat y'all if I hafta hold you down!"
He glanced over his shoulder at her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I can think of a better reason for ya to hold me down!"
"So what else is new?" she replied. "Now sit still so I can clean this."
"Damn! Ya spoil all my fun!" he pouted but did as she asked. 'She'll be in no mood to plot revenge on Kozik as long as she's occupied with patchin' me up.'
She dabbed at the nearly dried trail of blood that had welled out from under the broken scab. The skin around the bullet hole was clean and healthy, without a sign of infection. The broken scab annoyed her, but there was nothing she could about it.
"Is it that bad, baby?" he inquired, concerned by her prolonged silence.
"Nah. The wound's clean. I'll smear some antibiotic cream on it. That and a new bandage should keep it from gettin' infected," she assured him.
"Will it make ya feel any better to know I took a bite outta him?"
"A little," she admitted grudgingly. She squeezed a dollop of cream on a sterile wooden applicator and carefully dabbed it on the wound. She covered the entire area with the cream, then covered that with a new gauze pad. She'd already torn strips of tape to hold it in place.
"OK, love, flex!" she instructed, watching to make sure he'd have freedom of movement without the bandage coming loose.
Alex did as she requested, making her temperature rise to watch his muscles ripple under her gaze. "Feels good, baby," he assured her.
"We'll keep an eye on it - no pun intended - if it starts to really hurt, or changes color, we'll alert Tara," she replied, making a mental note to contact the doctor about the new injury anyway. 'I'd rather be safe than sorry!'
She opened another sterile cleansing pad and moved to stand in front of him, gazing intently at the cuts on his cheek and near his eye. Considering her own eye injury, she winced at how close Kozik had come to damaging Alex's eye.
"Can I count on y'all to keep your paws to yourself so I can treat your face?" she growled.
"I dunno, baby. There's an awful lot of temptation right in front of me," he grinned slyly. "How can you expect a red - blooded man to resist when you're flauntin' your best assets and they're starin' him in his face?"
"Boobs don't have eyes to stare with, love," she retorted, gently dabbing the cleansing pad against the cuts. "Except for the two - legged boobs, that is."
"They're not as much fun as yours," he countered.
Cat took an exasperated step away from him. "Honestly, love! I need all my concentration so I don't get this crap in your eye!"
Alex clasped his hands together, placing them between his legs for good measure. "That better?"
"Much," she sighed, stepping forward to return to her ministrations. She was relieved to find that the cuts weren't very deep. They also weren't as close to his eye as she initially thought, so he wouldn't experience any sight problems.
She cleaned the abrasions as gently but thoroughly as she could. He still winced from the sting of the antiseptic. She blew lightly on the area in an attempt to ease the sting, much like a parent blowing the sting from a child's skinned knee.
"I think this will be OK without a bandage. It's not as deep as the cuts Opie gave y'all," she stated. I don't understand why you're always gettin' hurt on the right side of your face! It's gotta be sore as Hell!"
"I lead with my left when I fight, baby. Thought ya knew that," he explained.
"Kinda hard for me to know that when I've never seen y'all fight. Might be just as well, I might be tempted to wade in with the baseball bat," she retorted, stepping back to inspect her handiwork.
"I wouldn't be surprised if y'all don't bruise later."
"Believe me, baby, 'Herman' looks worse than I do; and he doesn't have you to patch him up," Alex crooned, sensing her concern for him.
"I'm sure Chibs could've done better, he's not hindered like me," she replied.
"Maybe," he retorted, taking her hand in his and drawing her between his legs. He wrapped them around her so she couldn't escape. "But it's not as much fun gettin' patched up by Chibs."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "I don't think Chibs would appreciate bein' in such a compromisin' position!"
"Watch it, woman!" he growled warningly.
"Don't hafta. I can feel it, love," she whispered, resting her head against his uninjured shoulder for a moment. His caveman charm rested in the fine hair on his chest, glittering in the bright light. 'I definitely made the right choice in gettin' that for him!'
She felt the pressure from his erection against her leg and wriggled out from his grasp with a reluctant sigh. "This is nice, but we can't stay in here all day, lover."
"Dammit. I hate it when you're right!" He groaned in agreement and stood up, reaching for his shirt. Cat glanced at it, relieved that none of the blood from the bandage had seeped onto the fabric.
She opened the door and stepped into the open area, heading back to the kitchen.
Alex stuck his head past the door as he slid into his shirt. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Where ya goin'?"
"Kitchen. Gotta clean up my mess and figure out what I'm gonna do with the Snicker Blend, since y'all don't seem to like it."
He raced out of the bathroom to stop her, planting himself firmly in her path. "Baby, I never said I didn't like it. Just said it was an awful lot of work for ya to go to just for me when there's an easier way to do it!"
"Have y'all ever known me to do things the easy way?" she countered.
"No," he admitted reluctantly.
"Then I'm not about to start now," she declared, placing her hand over his heart. He hadn't buttoned his shirt, so that her hand brushed the fine hair on his chest. "But I'm glad y'all appreciate the effort."
She patted his chest before turning back to the kitchen. "Go finish dressin', and meet me in the office. I'll warm up your coffee."
She limped on into the kitchen and warmed up both cups, then carried them both to her office. Alex was already waiting for her, lounging in the chair next to the desk.
She set both cups on the desk and settled carefully into her own chair, happy to be able to rest. The brief spurt of energy she'd felt had been spent from her experiment and in treating Alex's wounds.
"You should go home and rest, baby," Alex remarked, running his eyes over her. He didn't like the lines of pain that were evident in her face, nor how pale she appeared.
"Can't, love. Staff meeting later."
His eyes flashed with exasperation. "That doesn't mean ya can't go home and rest up 'til the meeting! You're not gonna get better if ya keep runnin' yourself ragged!"
His arm rested along the edge of the desk, his fingers drummed agitatedly and his rings made a loud clanking noise that set Cat's teeth on edge.
She turned her chair in his direction so she could place her uninjured hand over his, halting the movement of his fingers. "Do you mind, love? You're a little off the beat!"
He frowned a moment before catching on to what she was referring to. "Sorry, baby," he grinned ashamedly.
"You've seen me in worse shape than this, lover, and not been so agitated. 'Herman's' visit isn't sittin' well with y'all," she replied.
"You got that right," he huffed. "I 'spose ya recorded it."
It wasn't really a question, but she treated it as one. "Always, love." She held up a hand to stall his protest. "Yes, I know, y'all keep sayin' it's not necessary to make 'em. Don't be annoyed at me, love. I feel better havin' the insurance."
He sighed resignedly. "Baby, I can't be annoyed at ya. If it makes ya feel better, go ahead and make 'em. I don't hafta hear it, I trust ya to tell me what happened this mornin'."
"He says I owe him a favor for savin' my life durin' the drive by," she replied.
Alex's response was a deep glower. He didn't like the idea of his woman owing Kozik anything, including the time of day. "So he said nothin' about talkin' me into changin' my vote!"
She grinned wickedly. "He didn't get the chance to try, love! I left him with no doubt in his mind that somethin' like that would never happen!"
He winked at her, though his fingers returned to drumming against the desk. "I don't get it. If he wasn't tryin' to use you to change my vote, what does he want from ya?"
"Herman wants to sit down and tell me his version about Missy. He seems to think that if he tells me his side of the story, it'll change my attitude towards him and lead y'all to change yours."
"That's not gonna happen," He growled.
"If y'all are talkin' about me and 'Herman' havin' a pow – wow, I already said we'd meet here at the coffeehouse," She advised.
"Why the fuck did ya do that?" He snarled. "I told ya how it went down! He killed her!"
She didn't flinch from his roar of outrage. She did wince inwardly at her lack of thought. 'Dammit! I hate havin' my brain wrapped up in wool. Makes it hard to think things through."
Alex's hand gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles were white. She gently pried his fingers loose, absently stroking the back of his hand. "I'm well aware of what happened, love. Y'all told me every gory detail," she replied softly.
"Then why did ya agree to listen to him, Cat?"
"Alex, love, I'm not lookin' to betray y'all," she pleaded. "There's no harm in hearin' the guy out. And while I'd rather have a root canal than indulge the man, if he keeps his word and leaves us alone, it's worth a little personal discomfort to me."
"Big 'if'," Alex grumbled. He felt overwhelmed that she was willing to go to such lengths on his behalf and felt a bit ashamed that he'd entertained the idea that she would betray him to Kozik. "That's all he wants?"
She shrugged. "Along with usin' me as a bridge to get back in y'all's good graces. Frankly, I can't see it happenin', love."
"Maybe I've influenced your opinion about him," Alex replied thoughtfully.
She shook her head in denial. "Now I know y'all know better than that! You no more influence me than I do you!"
He wrinkled his nose a bit. "Man, that's an understatement!"
"Y'all seem to forget that while he might've kept me from takin' a bullet at Kip's viewin', that doesn't cancel out the stunt he pulled at the hospital!"
Alex stared across the office at the wall across from him. He was giving the matter a lot of thought. "I don't like it, baby."
"If it makes y'all feel any better love, I've got a bad feelin' about it myself."
"It doesn't," he replied. "When's this pow - wow of yours gonna take place?"
"I honestly don't know. Suspect he's gonna wait while all y'all are in Belfast to state his case."
Alex's hand rubbed the bridge of his nose, the hand she'd captured turned so he could tangle his fingers with hers. ""You've got good instincts, baby. It's what I'd do," he sighed.
Her insides turned to liquid from his approval and the admiration in his tone of voice. She relaxed in her chair. Her voice turned husky as she forced her question through a sudden lump in her throat. "So do y'all think the new blend is worth offerin' to the customers?"
"You forget I don't share well with others, baby. Ya said you made it just for me."
"No, I said I made it with y'all in mind!"
"Same difference. I don't want the general public havin' any of this!" He growled.
"You're willin' to pay the cost of a special order, just like any other customer?" she inquired archly. Her eye was twinkling with mischief.
"Can I take it out in trade?"
She shook her head, biting the inside of her bottom lip to keep from answering his sly grin with a laugh. "Nope! This is business. Cash on the barrel head. And no discounts for bein' a partner!"
"Damn! You're one tough businesswoman!" He pouted
"Y'all ain't seen nothin' yet!" she grinned. "Wait'll y'all see me run for that council seat!" Her face clouded over at the sudden realization that he'd not be around for the election. "Oh, Hell fire!"
"I know, baby. Don't worry, I'll still keep an eye on ya while I'm in Stockton, he assured her, tightening his grasp on her hand in a comforting manner.
"Stahl'll probably be be waitin' for all y'all with the SWAT team," she grumbled. It was the first time she'd thought about the fact that he wouldn't be coming home to her after the Belfast run.
Alex fought back a twinge of guilt at keeping Jax's plan from her. He knew she could play along, but it had been a club decision, and he was bound by it.
"The hunt will be on for us the minute we don't show at the hearin', baby," he admitted.
"Y'all have a way across the pond?"
"We're workin' on it. Still a few details to cement," he drained the last of the coffee from his cup. "I doubt I'll be home long tonight, might hafta have ya bring my duffel."
"I'll take care of it," she promised.
He laid his hand along her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. He could feel them tremble slightly. "I know ya will. Ya never let me down."
His face inched closer to hers, then his lips claimed hers. 'I can't give ya much else right now, but I can give ya this!' He put everything he felt into the kiss, hoping it would tell her what he often couldn't say himself.
He released her from the kiss, his hands still framing her face. "I'll see ya when I see ya, baby," he whispered before striding out of the office and on out the back door.
