CP BK 2 CH 9 The Culling Continues to Na Triobildi

by wanderingchat

The Sons' quest to unravel LOAN moves into high gear, while Cat begins the healing process. Trials, tribulations, and setbacks both personal and medical bring about the second major argument between the Tragers. Tig/OC

The characters and events involving the Sons of Anarchy are the creation of Kurt Sutter.

No copyright infringement is intended.

Any use of lyrics and the mention of songs and performers in this text is also not intended to infringe upon any copyrights held by any of the artists.

All original characters that are not part of the SOA universe are products of my own imagination. Any similarities to real persons are purely coincidence.

Much thanks and love go to:

My DH (who is thankfully very much alive!), for taking the time to offer insights and for writing down the first husband's thoughts and feelings in confronting Tig Trager for the first and only time. Also for having the love in his heart to allow me all my little obsessions and not feeling threatened by them. We've had 15 great years together; here's to many more!

My best friend (who does live in FL) for kicking my ass when needed and for love throughout these many years. My unofficial 'Godchild', her daughter, for her love as well.

The Indy Tarts and Tartans fan group, for giving encouragement, even though there was little GB involvement. Tignation, Samcro forums, SOA and Kim Coates Yahoo Groups, Facebook and Sons of who also took an interest and added their encouragement. You know who you are.

Kim Sisk (Sisko44 on , check out her SOA/Tig Story called 'Sapphires and Whiskey'. It rocks!) for the wonderful cover art. I love it!

Finally, much thanks to Mr. Kurt Sutter for creating the SOA universe in the first place, and to Mr. Kim Coates for his excellent portrayal of Alex 'Tig' Trager

Charming Pawse

Book II Chapter IX

The Culling Continues

to Na Triobildi

GreyRider returned to Cat's room, leaving Frosty and Tig to talk in the hallway. Cat was sipping on the straw sticking in the drink Frosty had brought her and watching the news on television.

"The investigation into the hit and run accident that injured Charming entrepreneur Cat Marshall continues at this hour," the reporter stated matter-of-factly. Superimposed over the reporter's story were shots of Charming Pawse, Cat performing at the rally, and the intersection where the accident occurred. "Charming Police are working with Crime Scene Investigators from Lodi to track the rental vehicle that struck her car, along with the driver." Another superimposed shot of the hospital filled the screen. "Ms. Marshall sustained multiple injuries and was taken to St. Thomas Hospital in serious condition last night. Spokespersons for the hospital are unable to release information on her current condition. The most recent information from her store's webpage indicated she is in critcal, but stable condition." The screen showed the reporter sitting in front of a computer, the coffeehouse's webpage was shown over the reporter's shoulder. "Anyone with information is urged to contact the crime hotline. Tips that result in an arrest may receive-"

Cat clicked off the newscast with a sigh. "I'm surprised the media isn't camped out at the hospital entrance! That kind of shit is usually left for celebrities. I'm not a celeb for cryin' out loud!"

"You are to this area," GreyRider replied ruefully. "Unser made 'em leave. It helped that Tig won't allow the hospital to release information on your condition, so the media hounds turned tail and slunk away."

'Thank you, love!' Cat sent the quiet thanks out to her man. "Doesn't sound like the cops are any closer to tyin' Weston and his buddies to the wreck, either. That makes the claim an uninsured hit and run claim. More work involved," she observed.

Frosty entered the room in time to catch her last comment. "I wondered if you were gonna get a claim called in on your insurance. Do you also carry medical coverage?"

"I do, for me and anyone injured in my vehicle," she pointed to her cast ruefully. "Tig reminded me that I won't be ridin' anytime soon."

"And you're going along with that?" Frosty asked, grinning with amusement. "I recall a certain young lady who had her left leg in a cast from toes to knee riding her motorcycle all over Terre Haute!"

"That's because I had no other way to get around," she retorted. "Kinda hard to drive a car when your left leg is so enclosed! Quite a number of motorists would do a double take when they'd pass by and see the cast resting on the turn signal post!"

GreyRider frowned in disbelief. 'Ah, they're bullshitting me!'

Frosty reached into his back pocket, withdrew his wallet, extracted a picture from it, and handed it over to the Son. The picture had been laminated. It was a newspaper photo of Cat astride her candy apple red 1981 Yamaha Seca 750, traveling down the street with the cast resting right on the front turn signal. It was autographed across the bottom: 'To my dear friend, Frosty. Let this remind you what happens when you don't keep your feet planted firmly on the ground! Cat Marshall, 1984.

"Well, I'll be damned! You really did ride with a cast on your leg! What did you do to yourself?" GreyRider exclaimed.

Cat grinned reminscently. "Going to work at oh dark thirty in the morning, stepped off the front step onto a baseball bat the neighbor's kids left on the sidewalk, separated the bones in my ankle. I asked the doctor to put a dent in the cast to accommodate the shifter. He wasn't enthusiastic about the idea, but he did it and I made it work."

She turned her attention to Frosty and added, "I can't believe you've kept that picture all these years! Any chance you can make a copy for me? It might help me convince Tig to let me ride with a cast again."

Frosty nodded as he retrieved the clipping from GreyRider. The Portland rider favored her with a more respectful look. "Is there anything you can't do, Lady Cat?"

"Quite a bit, my friend. I sure can't stop a rental truck from running me down, for starters."

The nursing aide entered the room, picked up the lunch tray and started to leave again without speaking a word to Cat or her guests. Cat decided she had had enough of the silent treatment from the aide. "Y'all got some kind of problem, lady? Every time you come in here you never say a word to me, much less my visitors. Why are y'all so damn rude?"

The aide turned around, still holding the tray in both hands. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're not in the position to beg anything of me. Care to tell me the reason behind your rudeness?"

The aide looked at Cat, then at her companions. "I don't care for the company you keep, lady."

"That's Ms. Marshall to you," GreyRider snarled.

"What's wrong with my company, madam?" Cat put that rather unique spin on the word 'madam' that Frosty recognized meant Cat was using the word as an insult instead of a courtesy. Despite lacking her glasses, Cat could tell that the aide was blonde, and a little older than most Certified Nursing Assistants. She also had an attitude that Cat felt needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

"The guy over there," the aide replied, indicating Frosty with one hand. "He's OK. He's a regular person."

"And GreyRider isn't?"

The aide snorted derisively. "He's a biker, an outlaw. All the Sons of Anarchy are trash and all bikers are criminals!"

Cat smiled, but the smile didn't meet her eye, and there was no warmth to it. "Oh, really? All of us?"

"What do you mean, us? You're not a member of that gang!"

"No, but my boyfriend is a member of the club. I ride. I own my own motorcycle. I'm a biker. Therefore, in your eyes, that must make me trash, a criminal!"

The aide sneered nastily. "You know the old saying, 'when you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas'."

Frosty looked ready to slap the aide upside the head, but Cat shook her head. "Easy, Frosty. She's just showing her ignorance. Can you read her name tag to me?"

"Yeah, says 'R. Yates'," he snarled.

Cat smiled ferally. "Well, Ms. Yates, I can see that a change in caregivers is in order, as your attitude is obviously not going to be condusive to my recovery!" Turning her eye to Frosty, she added, "Darlin', would you mind makin' a trip to the nurse's station and register a complaint for me? I don't want this -"

"Lady Cat," GreyRider interjected warningly. Though he'd only been around her a few hours, he had her tales of her temper. He feared she'd say something more uncomplimentary than she already had.

Cat grinned at him. "Message received darlin'. Anyway, Frosty, would you ask the head nurse to give Ms. Yates a new assignment. I would prefer to have CNA's who are not anti-biker takin' care of me. I don't need the stress."

"Shall I take Ms. Yates with me?" He asked with a grin.

"By all means, darlin'," Cat turned her gaze on the CNA. "I'm sure y'all understand, Ms. Yates. I'm tryin' to get better, not worse. Your care isn't doin' me any good."

Frosty smiled and walked around the bed to the door. He opened it and held it open for the aide. "After you, Ms. Yates."

The blonde glared angrily at Cat, then flounced from the room. Frosty shook his head and followed her into the hallway.

"One down, several more to educate," Cat sighed. "There's somethin' goin' on around this place, GreyRider. Tara - Dr. Knowles - mentioned the hospital administrator doesn't like the club. Looks like her antipathy has spread."

"Somethin' tells me yer gonna change that before yer outta here," GreyRider mused.

"Somethin' tells me yer right, darlin'."

"There was talk at the clubhouse about there being a feelin' of distrust around here about the club. Nothin' was said about it by Jax's old lady, though. Guess she's in a rough spot."

Cat nodded. "'I think I'll mention that if anyone from the hospital management asks me. Not that I think they will."

Frosty returned a few moments later followed by the head nurse and the floor supervisor. Both were concerned over Ms. Yates' behavior and offered apologies.

"We don't tolerate that kind of behavior from our nursing staff," the floor supervisor added when Cat waved off the apology as unnecessary.

"I'm not the one needin' the apology. Puttin' her on a disciplinary action won't accomplish anythin'. Addressin' the problem at it's source will."

The floor supervisor's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Miss Marshall?"

"I've heard that the hospital administrator doesn't like the Sons. In fact, she's been pretty blatant in her dislike for them, including interfering in the recovery of one of the club members whose bills I was coverin'. Apparently, she's encouraging an anti-biker attitude amongst the staff."

The floor supervisor and head nurse glanced at each other and nodded slightly. "I remember that patient. Mr. Telford. The head injury," The floor supervisor stated. "He had a setback after she insisted that he be moved to another hospital. I will certainly have this matter investigated, Ms. Marshall."

"Thank you. That kind of rude behavior makes my visitors upset. That upsets me, and we both know that is ultimately not good for my eventual recovery."

"I understand completely," the head nurse replied. "Ms. Yates will be reassigned, Miss Marshall. Your visitors will not be treated discourteously in the future."

Cat nodded and lay her head back on the pillow, satisfied that the supervisors would take care of matters in their own way. 'I wish I could be a fly on the wall when this gets addressed with ole Miss Margaret!'

With guns drawn and yelling for everyone to get on the floor, Agent Stahl and a cadre of ATF agents stormed the hayes Military Surplus store, just after the Sons had entered. The riders were not surprised by their appearance.

While his brothers lay on their stomachs, Opie sat on his knees, staring up at Stahl, distressed by her wild demeanor. 'She didn't learn a damn thing from our encounter! I would've thought she would've backed off the bullshit! Showing mercy to her just made her worse!'

Stahl's eyes were gleamed with unbridled fury. She refused to look at him as she berated the Sons and her own people over the missing Jimmy O'Phelan.

Opie questioned his generosity of the other day. 'Maybe it was wrong. Killing her wouldn't have brought Donna back. I would've gotten jail time, maybe even a death sentence. I couldn't do that to the kids."

Stahl indicated the Sons could get up from the floor. Opie stood and stared down at her, but she still wouldn't meet his gaze. "She's not my problem," he shrugged mentally. 'If she's going off the deep end, it's the Feds problem.' He turned his back on her, following his brothers out the door.

Stahl had far more important matters on her mind than the opinion of one outlaw biker. Somehow, Jimmy O'Phelan was on to her, and he'd managed to get in and out of the safe house in spite of her massive surveillance.

'The Sons are small potatoes right now. Jimmy O is the key to the IRA and Zobelle. I have to concentrate on them." She grabbed Edmond Hayes by the collar and threw him onto a display case in anger.

The Sons left Edmond in the hands of the Feds and Galt in their rear view mirrors. They were satisfied with the outcome of this stage of their operation. They returned to Charming to prepare for the fight at Timberland with Weston.

Frosty and Cat indulged in some catch-up after the floor supervisor and head nurse left. She knew she had some explaining to do and decided to bring Frosty into her confidence pertaining to Alex's true nature. She'd sent GreyRider out for a smoke, so she and Frosty could talk about the differences between the story she and Alex had presented at the reunion versus their life in Charming without compromising Alex to the charter.

"We really are married, darlin'," she concluded. "But we don't advertise it due to the enemies the club has made. They'd waste no time tryin' to use me as a weapon against Alex."

"It makes sense when you put it that way, Kitten. I just hope you don't wind up regretting it."

"I haven't so far. Alex knows motors – cars and bikes – better than my male cousins. As for the club, I accept it as part of him. They aren't pimps and don't deal drugs. They do a lot to keep Charming what it is. You'll notice there's no big box stores, all Mom and Pop stuff. Alex takes good care of me, when I let him," she grinned.

"Speaking of Alex, I thought he insisted on you getting another pain pill earlier. How are you managin' to stay so wide-awake?"

"I pretended to take it," she favored him with a conspirational wink.

"Cat," he replied warningly.

"Look, Alex won't know. It's here if I need it, and you didn't come here to watch me sleep!" she replied.

He shook his head at her. "I won't argue with ya, Kitten. Just don't think that you have to pretend you aren't in pain on my account."

"It doesn't hurt, darlin'. At least not at the present moment," Her eye glinted mischieveously as she added, "Wanna watch the Cubs game?"

Frosty winced. "You are an evil woman! You know they're playin' the Dodgers!"

She grinned wickedly. "And I know how much you love that team!"

Kozik's Harley roared from the Teller – Morrow lot towards Main Street. 'The guards will think I'm really goin' to the coffeehouse. Always helps to check maps of the town and find alternate routes.' The guards on the ground closed the gates as he pulled away.

He'd announced his intention to check out Charming Pawse for himself to Piney. 'No one will question my wanting to visit a club – owned business. Nomads and other charter members have been in and out of the place all day.' His assessment was accurate. Piney had merely nodded and gone on to other matters demanding his attention.

Kozik thought of his upcoming encounter with Tig's old lady. 'The Portland charter is watching over her right now. Tiggy's gone off to Galt with that two fingered fella and the others, this is the best chance I'm gonna have to set her straight about the type of person Tiggy is!'

Kozik parked his bike in the hospital parking lot, well away from the only other motorcycle in the lot, which he figured was the Portland chapter rider's bike, and strolled into the front entrance of St. Thomas as if he'd been there before and knew where he was going.

The lobby was busy with the comings and goings of medical personnel, support staff, patients, and visitors. The information desk was busy and there was no security guard was in sight.

Just as he had in the clubhouse, Kozik leaned against the wall near the information desk and listened in to the conversations of the volunteers, waiting to hear what he needed. He waited patiently as the volunteers fielded questions via phone and face-to-face conversations.

A local florist van pulled up in the front drive, the kid driving the van entered the lobby, retrieved a cart, returned to the back of the van, and unloaded planters and flowers arrangements onto the cart.

'Hmm. I heard she has family out of state. If they heard of her accident, someone might've sent flowers. The kid will either leave them with the volunteer desk, or get the room numbers and take 'em himself. Either way, I'll learn which room is hers!'

He watched as the delivery kid manuvered the cart back into the lobby. As anticipated, he brought the cart to the information desk. Kozik's attention was focused on the kid and the volunteers, listening to their conversation.

"Looks like slim pickens today, Chip," the elder volunteer observed, noting only a few planters, a red rosebud tied with a black ribbon in a vase, and one bouquet of blue bells.

"Yeah," Chip replied. "Some days are busier than others."

"Those are nice looking bluebells. Who are they intended for?"

"Miss Cat. This was called in from Indiana. Some minister named Marshall. He's Miss Cat's father; sounded a lot like her. How is she, anyway?"

Kozik edged a little closer to the desk, hoping to hear the latest news about Tig's woman. 'She's a preacher's kid? This is classic! Typical rebellious young woman in love with the bad boy!'

"Sorry, Chip. There's a 'no release'. Just Tig Trager and her family are allowed that information."

'Shit!' Kozik thought angrily.

"Guess I can't blame the guy after what happened to her last night," Chip replied. "Does that mean you can't give me the room number?"

"I can't tell you any of the room numbers. New procedure. Give me the patient names and I'll write out the room numbers for you. Don't know that Miss Marshall will be in a position to tip you, honey."

Chip grinned as he handed the list to the volunteer. "That's OK, Mrs. Soames. Miss Cat's father included a nice tip when he made the order. He said bluebells would remind her of Indiana."

Kozik felt a fleeting moment of annoyance at being thwarted in overhearing the room number, then he brightened. 'I can go ahead to the critical care floor, see which room the kid delivers the shit!'

Kozik sauntered toward the bank of elevators and stopped in front of the directory, studying it to learn where the critical care unit was located while waiting for an 'up' car. The cheerful "ping" and green lit 'up' arrow alerted him to the arrival of an elevator car. He waited while the occupants walked out of the elevator, then entered. A few other people had waited for the car, but no one else entered with him, though he held the door open for a few moments. When no one took him up on his offer, he shrugged and pressed the button for the critcal care floor.

"The bitch in this plan is gonna be getting past the Portland charter. What is it about this gash that makes so many people wanna protect her? It's just pussy, for fuck's sake!" He laughed dismissively.

The eavesdropping he'd done at the clubhouse hadn't given him any better understanding into what made Tig's old lady different from any other female. 'Pussy is pussy, no matter how well educated and successful it is,' he thought with derision. 'Frankly, she sounds too good to be decent 'old lady' material! Tiggy prolly has her snookered into thinkin' the Sons is a recreational club!'

The doors slid open and he stepped out onto the crtical care floor, taking a few seconds to note the floor plan. The nurses' station occupied the center of the entire floor while patient rooms ringed it along the outer walls.

Kozik found the waiting lounge, not too far from the nurses' station. He'd have a good vantage point to watch the elevator for the delivery kid, and which room the Marshall woman's flowers would be taken to. 'No sign of the Portland charter. Likely he's in her room. I'll watch, see what happens when a civilian goes in.'

He walked to the lounge, settled in a chair, and picke up one of the ancient magazines. Kozik pretended to leaf through it while holding the magazine so he could keep an eye on the elevator doors. He'd just gotten settled when the elevator chimed and the doors opened. Chip trundled the cart from the car, turning towards the lounge where Kozik was sitting.

Kozik watched the kid push the cart along the floor and stop in front of a closed door, look at the room number and then the paper in his hand. Kozik watched the kid move the vase of blue bells and the vase with the red rosebud to the front of the cart and knock on the door.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Kozik watched him step inside with both vases. A few minutes later, Chip stepped out into the hall again, turned the cart around and headed back to the elevator.

Mrs. Soames passed the list of deliveries back to Chip, having written the required room numbers for him. "One thing you should know about Ms. Marshall. The Sons of Anarchy are guarding her, so you'd best knock on the door and wait for the guard to let you in. They're a little jumpy, don't need you becoming a patient!"

"Thanks for the warning, Mrs. Soames! I'll be careful!" Chip accepted the list, noting which rooms were on which floor. The bluebells and rosebud were the only deliveries for the critical care unit. The remainder were for the floor above that.

'I'll stop on the critical care floor first, then take care of the other rooms, so I don't have to backtrack.' He wheeled the cart to the elevator area, pushed the 'up' button, and settled in to wait for one of the cars to arrive.

It seemed to take longer than usual, both cars appeared to have gone to the top floor at the same time. He watched the floor display as the cars slowly made their return to the main floor, shifting from foot to foot. His thoughts were mostly on the rally the previous evening, and on the accident that had hurt the coffeehouse owner.

'I like Charming Pawse. It's a great place to hang out after school. Ms. Marshall never makes us feel like we're a nuisance, like she doesn't mind us hanging out there. The music nights are a lot of fun.'

The chime of the 'up' indicator interrupted his thoughts. He waited for the car to empty, then manuvered the cart inside, pressing the button for the critical care floor.

A few seconds later, the doors opened to the floor, and he made the turn with the cart towards the room number Mrs. Soames had supplied. He didn't notice anything unusual on the floor, or that he was the object of one person's watchful gaze from the lounge.

He stopped the cart in front the room, moved both vases to the front of the cart, knocked on the door and waited. Seconds later, the door opened a crack, and half a face was staring at him.

"Whaddya want, kid?" the man growled.

"Delivery for Ms. Marshall. Flowers. One vase is from her father."

"Who is it, GreyRider?" Chip heard Cat's voice from inside the room.

"Some kid, delivering flowers. Says one vase is from your dad. Would he send any?"

"Yeah, if Tig called him. What kind are they?"

"Blue of some kind."

"Blue bells," Chip supplied helpfully.

"They're from Daddy then, GreyRider."

The door opened a little wider to reveal a tall, lean charter rider, wearing a Sons cut. "C'mon in, kid."

Chip picked up the two vases and stepped inside the room. He noted the presence of a non-rider and relaxed just a little. "Hi."

"Hey, youngster," Cat replied. "You can put those on the dresser 'cross from the bed there. Afraid I don't have my wallet handy to give y'all a tip."

"That's OK, Ms. Marshall. It's already taken care of," Chip replied, placing the vases where she'd directed. "I hope you're feeling better."

"Thank you, darlin'. You usually come by the coffeehouse after school, when you're not workin' at the flower shop. You're seem to be intrigued by Ebony."

"Yes ma'am. He's the biggest cat I've ever seen. How old is he?"

"Nearly 13."

"Wow!"

"When I get outta here, Chip, you be sure to come by the coffeehouse. Your favorite drink, the caramel cinnamon dolce latte, is on me."

Chip's eyes grew wide. 'She knows my name and drink! I didn't think she'd remember with all the people she serves!' He nodded and scrambled for the door. "Thanks, Ms Marshall!"

The door closed and Chip turned the cart back towards the elevators. He felt better for having seen and talked to Ms. Marshall, and to know she remembered him.

The elevator 'up' indicator chimed and he trundled the cart into the car. The doors closed behind him.

GreyRider shut the door after Chip and stared at the flowers. They were in standard glass vases which set off the hue of the flowers. "These blue things native to your state or sumthin'?"

"Sort of. My grandparents farm in Southern Indiana had a lot of 'em. Daddy transplanted a bunch to his house and gave me a starter set to take to Indianapolis. The ones I transplanted here didn't take. Knowin' Daddy, he wanted me to have a little bit of home to help make me feel better."

"You really made that boy's day, Kitten," Frosty noted. "He didn't think you knew him from the next kid on the block."

"He's a good guy, always orders the same thing. A quiet kid who likes to watch the cats. He spends a lot of time with the books, and he's always there for the music nights. Hard not to remember someone sweet like him."

GreyRider moved towards the dresser and looked closely at the two arrangments. He found a card in the midst of the blue bells, but frowned that none was with the rosebud. 'Prolly an oversight by the florist.' He started to hand the card to her, then remembered she couldn't see well enough to read without her glasses. "Do ya want me to read the card for ya?"

"Please."

GreyRider opened the envelope and withdrew the small notecard, clearing his throat as he scanned the note before reading it aloud: "My prayers and love to you and Alex. Be sure to give each other a hug for me and your step-mom. God loves you and so do we. Your Daddy." GreyRider was confused by the reference to Alex until he recalled that was Tig's given name. "I heard you're a PK. Your dad writes like one."

She nodded. "Thanks for readin' that, GreyRider."

He placed the envelope back in the flowers for safe keeping. "There wasn't a card with the red rose. Weird thing, it's wrapped in a black ribbon."

Cat's heart leap at the description. "It's OK, GreyRider. I know who sent it."

The Portland rider looked over his shoulder at her. "That black ribbon seems ominous to me."

"It's not, GreyRider. It's a symbol from the movie 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Trust me."

He shrugged and glanced over at Frosty, who was sitting with his arms crossed and his chin to his chest. A light snore whistled from his slightly open mouth. "He's not much of a Dodger's fan, is he?"

"Nope," Cat grinned. "His show sometimes gets pre-empted for the games, so he's a little miffed at 'em. I think he's a Reds fan, anyway."

"I gotta hit the head, be back in a second."

"Thanks for sharin', man!" Cat grimaced.

He grinned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door closed to the bathroom, the door to Cat's room opened and a figure slipped inside.

Kozik waited a few minutes after Chip left Cat Marshall's room, to see whether the Portland charter would step outside. The door remained closed. 'One charter and the sweetbutt. Odds are in my favor. Not like Tig not to have someone on the outside keeping watch. He's slipping!'

He stood up, stretched, and walked casually to the closed door. None of the nurses paid any attention to him. 'Guess they're used to seeing cuts coming in and out of this room,' he mused, placing his ear against the door and listening.

He could hear the TV audio of a baseball game, but not much else. He pushed against the door and slipped inside. He cased the interior of the room in a few brief seconds. A civilian sat in the chair near the wall on the right side of the hospital bed, arms crossed, his chin on his chest. The civilian was male and dark haired. There was no sign of the charter. 'Must be in the bathroom.'

Kozik's steely gaze settled on the form in the bed. 'She's short and a Hell of a lot older than I was led to believe. So much for the rebellious kid idea!' His eyes took in the dark colored hair peeking from the bandages on her head and face, which was a rainbow of cuts and bruises. He noted the cast on her left arm and bruising where an IV had been inserted in the right. 'Doesn't look very sweet right now, either!' Kozik leaned against the door to the room and crossed his arms over his chest, hiding the patches on his cut.

Cat heard a door open, it sounded like the room door as opposed to the bathroom door. 'GreyRider would've said somethin' if he was goin' into the hall.' She squinted towards the room door and called softly, "Who's there?" She could make out a dark shape in front of it. "GreyRider, is everything OK?"

"I'm not GreyRider," the form replied, matching her quiet tone. 'Nice voice. Not shrill or high-pitched. Not much goin' for her in the looks department, at least in comparision to sweetbutt. Who'd'a thought Tiggy would go for an old hag!'

"You're not a doctor or nurse, either," she replied, moving her left hand towards the sleeping civilian. Her right hand turned down the audio on the TV.

"I'm a Son," Kozik replied consolingly, moving away from the door.

The civilian woke with a start when she poked his side. "I wasn't asleep!" he blurted.

"It's OK, Frost. We've got company. He's not with the Portland charter, but he's one of the Sons," Cat explained.

"What makes you think I'm not with Portland?" Kozik asked.

"Because I know 'em. I might not see well without my cheaters, but the Portland guys wouldn't keep their distance from me. Nor would they hide their patches like they're somethin' to be ashamed of!"

"You talkin' to Frosty, Lady Cat?" GreyRider called through the closed bathroom door.

Kozik winced. 'I forgot about the charter! Shit!'

"Frosty's awake, but we've got company," she replied, her tone of voice carried a warning note that put GreyRider on immediate alert. He stepped from the bathroom, took one look at Kozik, and put his hand to his holster.

"That cut you're wearing is the only reason that I haven't drawn my gun!" Greyrider stated quietly. "You've got five seconds to spill your name and charter!"

Kozik held up his hands, revealing his 'Sergeant at Arms' and 'Tacoma' patches. "Easy, brother! No need to do anything rash!"

"That's for me to decide!"

Frosty was awake, alert, and darted out of his chair in a flash, moving to place himself between the new arrival and Cat. "Should I call Tig?"

Cat shook her head, "Let's give the man a chance to explain himself first."

"Yeah, we don't need Tiggy here," Kozik replied with a sardonic grin.

"I don't believe we've learned y'all's name yet, Mister," Cat edged to the left side of the bed and swung her legs over.

Kozik winced involuntarily at the sight of the black and blue marks on her thighs. 'Man, she's gotta be hurting with all those injuries! She's got a will of iron!'

She winced slightly as she moved around to face him. He saw that her legs were wrapped in elastic bandages and slipper sox were on her feet.

"My name is Kozik -"

"Kozik!" Frosty stepped closer to the new arrival. "Cat, press your call button and ask for security! Tig didn't like the idea of this guy in town, he might be trouble!"

Frosty and GreyRider both grabbed for Kozik's arms at the same moment that Kozik swung his arms away from them. He pushed Frosty away, sending the broadcaster sprawling into Cat, knocking them both backwards. Cat yelped in pain from the weight that landed on her.

"See what you've done, asshole!" GreyRider roared angrily. The Portland rider had hold of one of Kozik's arms. Summoning all his strength, GreyRider pushed Kozik against the dresser so that the Tacoma man was bent over it. They barely missed knocking over the vases. GreyRider leaned over Kozik, holding the other man's arm up against his back.

Frosty leapt to his feet, his face drained of color at the thought that he'd caused more hurt to his friend. "You OK, Kitten?" he asked, reaching out to help her sit up. "Want me to call the nurse?"

Cat shook her head, though her chest felt as if it were on fire. "I'm fine, hon," she gasped, leaning back against the mattress and pillow. She fought back a wave of nausea and glared at Kozik. "I know who you are. You're the Tacoma charter Sergeant at Arms."

"And from what Frosty said, a problem for Tig!" GreyRider added.

"Doesn't automatically make him trouble for me," she noted. "Though I'm not impressed by his sneakin' around like a snake in the grass."

"You always talk about people in front of them like they're not present?" Kozik asked snidely. "That's rude!"

"Y'all aren't in a position to comment on my manners, Mr. Kozik," Cat observed. "My man is not a fan of yours, so that's strike one. You bein' a sneak is strike two. That doesn't give y'all a very good start in my book."

'Damn!' Kozik's eyes glared at her, but she didn't seem to be affected by his glare that had shaken many men. "Look, can we talk privately?"

"I don't think so," Cat frowned. "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of my friends."

Kozik winced at the pressure GreyRider was applying to his arm. The Portland rider was holding Kozik's arm in an uncomfortable position behind his back. "Tig and I go way back, but we had a falling out a few years back. I thought maybe comin' to help the mother charter and paying my respects to you would help bridge the gap."

"Yeah, and if you believe that, I've got swamp land in the desert for sale...cheap!" GreyRider snorted.

Cat raised her hand at him. "Let him loose, darlin'. He can't do anything to hurt me."

"Seems to me he already has! You sure you're OK, Lady Cat?" GreyRider glared at Kozik before releasing the Tacoma man's arm at her reassuring nod.

'Fuckin' overkill.' Kozik rotated and shook his arm, restoring the circulation to it. He nodded in Cat's direction. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, for the moment. Have a seat," Cat pointed to the chair next to the left side of the bed that GreyRider had occupied before the flowers were delivered. She never took her eye off Kozik.

Her mind raced back over the things Alex had told her about his past. 'If Kozik really wanted to make peace, he wouldn't have waited until Tig was out of town to visit. I'll let him dig his grave as deep as he wants to dig it.'

Kozik settled in the chair while GreyRider and Frosty leaned side-by-side against the dresser. Both glared balefully at the Tacoma charter rider.

"So, according to you, Mr. Kozik, you and Tig had a fallin' out. Suppose you tell me about it."

"I'd still rather keep it between the two of us."

"Your 'druthers aren't gonna get catered to around here. Mine are the only 'druthers that matter." She gazed at him from her one good eye, not caring if she was making him mad. After a few moments silence, she added, "But, I'm a fair minded person and willin' to compromise."

She nodded at GreyRider. "Why don't you go down the hall, see if you can charm the nurses, darlin'. Frosty can stay here and holler for help if necessary."

"Lady Cat, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I know ya don't, GreyRider. Please do it, anyway. If there is a problem between Tig and Mr. Kozik, it's best not to involve Portland. I don't wanna add any further to causin' trouble between brothers."

"What about him?" Kozik indicated Frosty.

"Frosty's a civilian and a family friend. Tig trusts him. You wanna talk to me, you do so in his presence. Otherwise, you can get the Hell out of here."

'That would be the smart thing to do. I've gone this far, might as well play the hand I've been dealt. Gotta admit, the bitch has balls.' Kozik felt a grudging respect for Tig's woman and inclined his head in agreement. "A'right, then. Your buddy can stay."

She smiled grimly. "Don't try to act magnamious. You ain't got much choice." She nodded at GreyRider. "It'll be OK, darlin'."

GreyRider glared at Kozik, his expression openly daring the man to make one false move, then he clapped Frosty on the shoulder. "I'll be just outside the door. Holler if things go haywire." He strode to the door and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Frosty glared angrily at her. "Are you out of your mind, Kitten?"

"Probably," she grinned. "But this fella's gone to a Hell out of a lot of trouble to talk to me, might as well hear him out. So why don't you cop a squat, darlin'," she replied, indicating the chair he had vacated a few minutes earlier.

"Maybe I should stay over here, just to be on the safe side."

She shook her head. "Frosty, sit down before you fall down. I'm surprised that tumble didn't knock the wind out of ya! GreyRider's just outside the door, I can still holler loud if the need arises."

Frosty defiantly stayed where he was, glaring from her to Kozik. She knew he thought that giving Kozik an audience was a bad idea, but she gazed earnestly at him, imploring him to trust her judgement. Eventually, Frosty sighed and reluctantly returned to his chair. Cat leaned tiredly against the pillow, turning her head so that her left eye was on the Tacoma rider. "Start talkin'."

"Your old man is responsible for the death of someone close to me," Kozik announced flatly, watching her closely for her reaction.

Cat didn't flinch, nor did her expression show surprise, fear or any other emotion over his pronouncement. Her voice remained calm and cool. "Suppose you elaborate."

'Damn! She really wants to hear details! If it hurts Tiggy, I can give 'em!' He met her emerald gaze with his resolute one. "It happened a few years ago. Tig was riding on the I-5 to Charming. My best friend was sitting behind him on the bike. He deliberately laid it down, threw himself clear, and pushed my friend into the path of oncoming traffic. He killed her!"

Cat knew all about the event, for Alex had shared it with her long ago. 'Alex felt responsible for it, but Kozik seems to be placin' all the blame on Alex. Let's see just how different his view really is.' She inquired softly, "Why would he go to such lengths to kill your friend?"

"Because she was pregnant with his child!" Kozik spat. He made an obvious effort to control his anger before adding, "She was my best friend. We grew up together. She was literally the girl next door to me and Tig lived on the same street. I was happy for 'em when they hooked up; he was my best friend. She told me about the pregnancy before they left. Said she was gonna tell Tiggy when they got to Charming. She was a little apprehensive about it; feared how he'd react. He obviously found out before she could tell him and killed her so he wouldn't have to be responsible! I confronted him at her funeral, and he didn't deny it!" Kozik spat the words as if he'd just eaten something foul, but his eyes gleamed with triumph, waiting for her to react with revulsion over her lover's act.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Kozik. Tig shared this with me a long time ago," she replied quietly. "His version is supported by news reports that I researched. Not because I didn't believe him, but out of fear that he didn't share the entire story to protect my feelings. He didn't leave out a thing." Her expression hardened as she added, "I find your story fascinating, but obviously modified to support your view of it. You left out that it was an accident and that he didn't know the lady was expecting until the coroner told him."

"That's what Tiggy claimed. But no one believed him. I still don't!"

"Obviously. Did all y'all ever look at the police report, or even ask to see it?"

Kozik shook his head.

"It would've saved you a lot of trouble. There was an oil slick in Tig's lane. He couldn't see it until he was on it and lost control of the bike. Both of them were thrown from it, she went into traffic, he hit the berm and broke his leg. When he learned about the baby from the coroner, he blamed himself for not keepin' control of the bike or bein' able to help her. He was devastated. Instead of comfort, both his family and hers joined you – his so-called friend – in groundless accusations! He accepted the blame from all y'all as his due."

"He certainly has you brainwashed!" Kozik snorted contempuously. "I suppose he told you the Sons is a gentlemen's recreational club!"

Cat felt a momentary urge to slap the taste out of Kozik's mouth, but she also felt sympathy for him. She fought back her anger to reply in a gentle tone of voice, "I'm well aware of that the Sons aren't just a bunch of Harley enthusiasts. I know what they do and what they are. Just as I accepted Tig's version of what happened back then, I accept the Sons as a part of Tig's life."

She slid to the left edge of the bed again so she could face him, ignoring the twinge of pain and nausea. "I'm sorry that you lost someone you loved, Mr. Kozik," she said softly. "Tryin' to destroy Tig by tellin' lies to me isn't gonna bring her back."

Her pity stung him. "You think you're so fuckin' smart! You have no idea! From the looks of ya, you're the kind of woman who can't have a relationship with a man that doesn't involve sex! It's the only way you can get a man to look at ya!" Kozik snarled.

Frosty leapt from his chair in anger and outrage, ready to defend her honor. He stopped his advance on Kozik at the sight of Cat's raised hand.

"Sit down, Frosty. Relax. Mr. Kozik is speakin' from ignorance." She turned a rueful smile on the Tacoma rider. "There's a sayin' about makin' assumptions, and you just proved the part about 'it makes an ass out of you' true. Frosty and I have been friends without privledges for years!" She glared at Kozik and added angrily, "What the Hell do you think the relationship between the Portland charters and me is, chopped liver? As if I had the stamina to service that many men!"

Kozik realized he'd just stepped in a big pile of shit and sunk asshole deep. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "I apologize," he sneered, his voice unapologetic. "You just don't seem very sympathetic to my situation."

"I am. You lost someone important to you and have carried that hurt for years. It's eating you up inside, Kozik. If you keep goin' like this, you're gonna end up doin' harm to no one but yourself. Not me, not Tig, just you."

Kozik glared at her, "You tryin' to psychoanalyze me?"

"No, simply statin' the obvious. You're gonna continue to blame Tig because it's all ya know. You can't accept that it was a tragic accident because you don't want to accept it. There's nothin' you can say that will change my feelin's for Tig. Nor can I change your opinion about what happened to your friend. We really have nothin' more to discuss, Mr. Kozik, so y'all can go now."

"I suppose you'll be callin' Tiggy to tell him about this!" Kozik sneered defiantly.

"That's for me to know and you to find out. Ride safely back to the clubhouse."

Kozik looked like he was going to argue, but Frosty walked around the bed to the room door and opened it. "GreyRider, would you be kind enough to escort this fella to the parking lot? He's worn out his welcome."

"About damn time!" GreyRider motioned for Kozik to join him in the hall.

Kozik glanced from the two men to the grim, determined expression on Cat's face. 'She shot me down, right in front of the civilian. There's nothing else I can do here to rattle the old bitch.' He stood up and joined GreyRider in the hall.

Kozik walked silently beside GreyRider, his mind whirling over the fact that he'd not succeeded in driving a wedge between Tig and his old lady. 'She's made of a lot stronger stuff than I thought. No wonder he's with her instead of some sweetbutt.'

"You're damn fuckin' lucky I don't mop up this elevator with your ass," GreyRider muttered as they stood in the descending elevator car. "I should, considering what you did. If you'd have hurt her when Frosty landed on her. . ."

"Whatever," Kozik shrugged. "You wanna take a swipe at me, go ahead. Take your best shot."

GreyRider was sorely tempted. His hands curled into fists at the idea. "You ain't worth the effort it takes to spit on you, much less hit you," he growled.

Kozik smiled sarcastically. "So you gonna rat me out to Tiggy?"

"There's only one vermin in here. If you hold any love for that patch, you'll tell Tig yourself."

The elevator doors slid open, interrupting their conversation. The pair stepped out and walked wordlessly to Kozik's parked Harley. The Portland rider stood watching as Kozik mounted his ride, secured his helmet, and switched on the ignition. GreyRider maintained that posture until Kozik's bike roared out of the parking lot.

Kozik watched GreyRider's grim visage recede in his rear view mirror, a sardonic grin crossing his face. 'I'll tell Tiggy all right! When I'm fuckin' good and ready! Unless the gash cries on her old man's shoulder and I'm forced to 'fess up before hand, I know just the right time! Before the fight!'

His smile widened as he rode back to the clubhouse, plotting his confrontation with Tig and imagining the effect it would have on him. 'He won't be able to keep his mind on the fight. Why bruise my knuckles on him when the Brotherhood will do it for me?'

Frosty closed the door behind Kozik, wishing he had the satisfaction of slamming it shut. "Good riddance to trouble!"

"Amen!" Cat replied on a gusty sigh. Her chest hurt, and she still felt nauseous. "Frosty, I - " she suddenly spewed all over the bedclothes and started gasping for breath.

Frosty leapt for the call button. 'I should've known better!"

"May I help you?"

"Ms. Marshall just threw up and she's having trouble breathing! Please hurry!" he called into the intercom. "It's OK, Kitten," he assured her. "The nurse will be here shortly."

She nodded, tears of embarrassment streaming down her face. "Sorry you wasted money on the coffee, Frosty."

"Don't worry about that, honey. It happens to a lot of people," he consoled her, wiping her face with a wet washcloth. "You should see me after one too many beers!"

"I recall a couple of times when I've cleaned y'all after a Ralph worship session," she replied miserably.

The nurse rushed in, took one look at her, and called for the attending doctor.

"It's OK, Ms. Marshall. Your lung has collasped. We hoped this wouldn't happen." She reached behind the bed to retrieve the oxygen tube, placing the nodules under Cat's nose and adjusting the air flow. "This should help," she spoke soothingly as she worked. Once the oxygen was in place, she helped Cat up to a chair and stripped the bed.

The doctor strode in, another nurse following with a covered tray. "Sir, if you'll please wait outside," the doctor murmured, taking in Frosty at a glance.

"I will in a moment, Doctor. You need to know that there was another guy here earlier. The Portland guy guarding her and I got into a scuffle with him, on account he shouldn't have come here and was intent on causing trouble. The guy pushed me and I landed on top of Miss Marshall."

"Why weren't we called when that happened?" The doctor asked angrily.

"She said she was OK and I took her word for it. She seemed all right until just a moment ago. When she barfed, I knew she was in trouble," Frosty explained.

"I see. Go on outside, please. Let me deal with it."

Frosty walked reluctantly into the hallway, noting as he left that the nurse was helping Cat clean herself while another stripped the bed. 'I hope she'll be all right,' he paced the hallway, waiting for the doctor to come out.

GreyRider found him pacing outside the room when he returned from the parking lot. "What's wrong?"

Frosty quickly briefed the Portland rider on Cat's setback, "It came on sudden, right after Kozik left. I knew I hurt her when I fell on her!"

"It wasn't your fault, Frosty!" GreyRider assured him.

"We should call Tig and tell him what happened," Frosty replied.

"I hear what you're sayin' man. At the last check in, Tig said he'd be in Galt for awhile and not accessible. This isn't the kind of thing I wanna leave on a voice mail. That would really upset him. He needs all his wits about him right now. He'd be torn between wanting to be here and being with the club for the showdown with LOAN."

"Surely he'd want to be here with her instead of at some stupid rumble!" Frosty argued.

"You're not an outlaw, you don't understand our lifestyle. Tig would be here in a flash if this was life threatening. Her life's not in danger, so Tig is where he needs to be right now. It'll upset him enough to find out Kozik caused this."

"Is Kozik supposed to be with them for that fight?"

"Not sure. If he is, I doubt Kozik is gonna admit to Tig that he tried to turn Lady Cat against him and failed. Besides, she'd be mighty upset if we call him behind her back."

Frosty nodded. "You've got a point there. I don't want to rouse her temper. On the other hand, I don't want to have to contend with an angry Tig, either. I have a feelin' his temper is worse than hers, and I have first hand experience with Cat's!"

GreyRider smiled in return. "No worries, brother. Let's wait and see what the doctor says, and then discuss it with Cat. Likely you'll be safely on your way back to La-La Land and won't have to worry about facin' him with it!"

Frosty nodded in reluctant agreement. GreyRider leaned against the wall and thought wryly, 'If it isn't life threatenin', I'll likely be safe and sound at the clubhouse, meself, when he finds out what happened!"

Inside Cat's room, the Doctor plunged his hands into the rubber gloves the nurse held open for him. Another nurse prepped Cat for the short treatment. She injected a local into Cat's side to numb the area.

"We're going to make a small incision in your side, in order to stick a tube into the chest cavity. That will help reinflate the lung. You'll have to keep your arm away from your side for awhile, but otherwise, you'll feel a lot better," the Doctor explained as he worked.

The local took immediate effect on the area. All Cat could feel was the cold metal of the scalpel against her skin. She didn't feel the tube being inserted, but she definitely felt the change in her breathing as the lung reinflated.

"How long will I have this hole in my side?" she asked as the Doctor packed the incision and taped the tube in place.

"Not too long. Just until we're sure the lung is re-inflated," he assured her. "Probably just a day or two."

"No chance it could come out later today?" she asked hopefully. 'If Alex were to stop in before going to Timberland, he won't be able to keep his mind on business, and that could be bad.'

"I doubt it, Ms. Marshall. Don't worry. You'll not have that tube in your side for more than a couple of days."

The Doctor stripped the gloves from his hands and went into the bathroom to wash up. He wrote some notes into the chart the nurse handed him before he departed.

'Shit! What a time for this to happen!' She shifted positions, trying to get comfortable. The incision and the tube didn't hurt. She couldn't feel either, yet, but knowing they were there made her feel weird.

Frosty and GreyRider pounced on the doctor as soon as he stepped outside the door. "Is she OK?"

"Just fine. Sometimes after a severe blow to the chest, one or both lungs can collaspe. That scuffle you reported aggravated her rib injury. It's a temporary condition. I inserted a tube into the chest cavity to allow the lung to reinflate. She's already breathing easier."

The pair looked at each other in relief. "We're still gonna have to convince her to tell Tig about this," GreyRider murmured.

"Yeah, good luck on that one," Frosty replied.

The doctor glared at the two men. "I'm sorely tempted to prohibit any further visitors from the motorcycle club. There shouldn't have been any disturbance in her room, much less one that caused injury to her!"

Frosty stepped forward, his expression imploring the Doctor to reconsider. "That's really not fair to Cat, nor to the local club, Doctor. The charters are here to protect her. Her boyfriend is important to her recovery. If you prohibit them and her boyfriend from visiting, you'll do her more harm than good."

The Doctor gazed from GreyRider to Frosty and back again. "I'm going to level with you two. There's some managers and physicians in this hospital who think the Sons are a menace. I don't agree. But if there's any more trouble for Miss Marshall, neither I nor Dr. Gallagher will hesitate to put a moratorium on visitors, understood?"

"Understood!" The two men replied. The Doctor nodded and strode down the hall.

The pair entered the room to find Cat reclining in the bed, her right arm behind her head. A small tube was peeking out of the sheet and blanket from her right side.

Frosty winced at the sight. "Does it hurt, Kitten?"

"Not at the moment, Frost. They injected a local; might hurt like the dickens when it wears off. Please tell me all y'all didn't bother Tig about this!"

"No, Lady Cat. We knew you'd make the fur fly if we did it without consulting you," GreyRider replied.

She relaxed. "Good. No need for him to know now. Later, after the fight, he can be told. I don't want him knowin' before. You got dat?"

GreyRider frowned. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Lady Cat. What are we supposed to tell him when we make the next update call?"

"Hmmm. You've got a point. I can't expect y'all to out and out lie to the man."

"There's a lot I'd do for ya, Lady Cat, but I won't lie to a brother." GreyRider responded tersely.

"I won't either." Frosty added. "I value Tig's friendship too much."

"Then we'll just not call. That way, no one has to lie." Cat insisted. The room phone rang and she reached over to pick up the receiver. "Cat here."

"Hey, baby! We're back from Galt."

"Hey, back!" She smiled and spoke aside to Frosty and GreyRider, "Speak of the Devil!"

He snorted a laugh. "I resemble that remark. Now I know why my ears were burning."

"You are my one of favorite topics of conversation, love! You sound almost giddy. Things must've gone well."

"We got the hardware. Now we've just gotta get through the thing at Timberland tonight."

"Do you anticipate any trouble?" She tried not to let her concern for him show in her question, but he heard it anyway.

"Baby, we're talking about Weston. Of course we expect trouble. We've got the bases covered," Alex reassured her. 'Kinda nice to have someone thinkin' 'bout my welfare.'

"It's supposed to be 10 on 10, right?"

"Why're you askin'?"

"I'm tryin' to figure out who is makin' up your 10. I like the man, but Piney's not exactly healthy enough for that kind of fight. Though I imagine his oxygen tank could dent a few noggins. By my count, y'all are a man short, countin' Happy in."

Alex laughed. "Try countin' him out of a fight. Just because he went nomad doesn't mean he's not part of the mother charter at heart. We have a full roster, baby."

Cat could hear the reticence in his voice despite his assurances. "You don't sound very enthused about the prospect, love. Anythin' I need to know?"

"Nah. Prospect's fine. He's rarin' to have at it at the Brotherhood."

Cat grimaced. "You know what I meant, funny man!"

"It's the guy roundin' out the number that bothers me. Nothin' for you to worry about," he admitted, his voice echoed her concern as he added, "Are you OK, Baby? Your breathing doesn't sound right."

"It's just that you take my breath away, love," she replied, working to keep her voice light. "I'm just fine." She pointedly ignored GreyRider's and Frosty's motions to share her medical setback with him.

"A'right. Keep me posted," Alex replied. 'I don't think she's telling me everything, but I can't get away right now to check on her. The guys would tell me if anything was goin' on.' There was a moment of silence between them, then he added softly, "See you later, baby."

"See ya when I see ya." She hung up the phone and sighed resignedly.

"Everything OK?" Frosty asked, miffed that she'd not mentioned the setback to Alex.

"Yeah. Apparently things went well. Tig sounded quite satisfied."

"Who's the 10th man?" GreyRider inquired.

"He didn't say. From his tone of voice, I suspect it's Kozik."

"Then you have to tell him what happened!" Greyrider exclaimed.

"No!" Cat shook her head vehemently. "I forbid it!"

"Kitten," Frosty interjected gently. "I'm not meanin' to argue with you, but I agree with GreyRider. Tig needs to know Kozik was here and what he did to you. It's not fair to keep him in the dark!"

Cat glared at both men. "Don't all y'all understand? I can't let him go into a dangerous situation worryin' about me and a minor setback. He has to keep his mind focused on the fight and believe Kozik is there to help! I said I'd tell him after the fight, and I will. Not before! Now, enough!"

The pair wilted under her tantrum. Though neither agreed with her, it wasn't worth her risking another injury by continuing the argument and upsetting her.

'Maybe she'll drop off again and I can call Tig then," GreyRider consoled himself.

'If she falls asleep again, one of us can slip out and call Tig. I hate to go behind her back, but he's gotta know about this," Frosty determined.

They settled to watch the remainder of the ball game, which the Cubs won. Cat managed to stay awake through the game. She'd been given another pill for pain, but pretended again to take it and hid it in the rolling table when the pair weren't watching.

"Well, Frosty, your favorite team didn't win!" Cat taunted the broadcaster.

"The Dodgers are not my favorite team! You know that!" Frosty retorted. "I'll bet your aunt'll be fit to be tied that her favorite pitcher got the win!"

"She's no fan of Marmel, that's for sure. She's probably havin' kittens as we speak!" Cat replied, smiling at the thought of her aunt's infamous dissatisfaction with the Cubs' pitcher.

Their friendly war of words was interrupted by the arrival of a more pleasant aide, who delivered dinner for all three of the room's occupants. She also offered a friendly smile to Frosty and GreyRider instead of ignoring them.

"I requested the extra dinnes while the nurses were here earlier. Figured y'all might want some kind of nourishment after that rousing game," she explained.

"Service with a smile certainly makes up for the earlier surliness!" Frosty mused.

Pete came by after dinner with a gym bag of clothes for Tig. Cat had asked him to obtain them from the house during an earlier check in call. He also carried a drink carrier of coffees for them all - including another white mocha whiskey blend for Cat - a cooler of food for Tig, and a couple of Charming Pawse pastry bags. At Cat's direction, he placed the gym bag, cooler, and one of the pastry bags in the closet.

"Here's dessert for you two," he added, handing the remaining pastry bag to Frosty.

"What's this?" Frosty asked, sniffing at the top of the bag. "Smells great!"

"One of my specialities. Snicker Bar Muffins," Cat replied. "If Tig were here, you and GreyRider would be in dire peril of getting to taste one. He loves 'em."

"The other bag has one of those for Tig when he gets back, eh?" GreyRider laughed.

"Yeah. I doubt he'd want anything from the hospital cafeteria." She glanced at Pete, who was leaning against the dresser and asked, "How're my furbabies, Pete?"

"Missing you. Especially Ming and Misty. They keep running all over the house looking for you. What's with the tube in your side, Miss Cat?"

Frosty quickly explained about the procedure, leaving out Kozik's contribution to it. "She's managed to stay awake all afternoon. We watched the Cubs."

"Yeah, that's right! They beat the Dodgers! And people say miracles don't happen these days!"

Cat glared at Pete, who was smiling broadly. "Fun-nee!"

"We've been busy today, between the regulars and all the out of town Sons stopping in. There's not been much business at Impeccable Smokes," Pete added, an amused smile lighting his face. "From what I hear, not a single customer went in there today. Just Weston and a couple of his friends."

Cat shrugged at the news. "All businesses have their slow days, darlin'. There but for the grace of God goes our store!"

Pete nodded, catching on to the implied lesson. "By the way, Mr. Tig called me with news that he's sending a new guy over tomorrow. Said he'd be working in the back on the bookkeeping and administrative stuff."

"Did Tig tell you the name of this new hire?" Cat was wary, but she didn't let on to Pete that this was the first she knew of a new hire.

"No, he didn't. He did say the guy had bandaged hands but could work a calculator. If it's not OK with you, I'll handle it. Tig also said this guy would be staying at the house while you two were away."

'Sounds like Chucky turned up and Tig wants to make sure he's got a reason to stay around. Nice of him to check with me first!' She cast a reassuring smile at her employee. "Don't worry, Pete. The new guy is a friend of Tig's. He'll just be handling the paperwork to free up you and Miss Anna. All y'all are still in charge until I'm out of here."

Pete breathed an audible sigh of relief. 'From the way Mr. Tig spoke, it sounded like this guy was gonna be our boss! I should've known Miss Cat had things under control."

'Alex, my love, you've been a busy boy, but you are really gonna get a piece of my mind for this stunt!'

No one questioned Kozik's whereabouts when he returned to the clubhouse. He arrived just a few minutes ahead of the Redwood Sons and they were too busy preparing the guns for the evening to come to be concerned with the comings and goings of one rider.

Kozik strode to the bar and demanded a beer from the croweater tending it. He accepted the bottle without a word of thanks and strode to a semi-secluded corner, taking a long, satisfying pull from the bottle.

The clubhouse was still packed to capacity, though a few people had left to attend to jobs or errands, which accounted for the lack of charter riders. 'Don't see Gemma or Jax's old lady anywhere, either," he mused.

He kept watching the chapel, expecting Tig to come tearing out to confront him about his visit to the hospital. As time passed and no confrontation ensued, Kozik relaxed, assured that Tig's old lady hadn't ratted on him. 'She's playin' right into my hands!' He raised his bottle in a mock salute to her, settled back in his chair, and plotted his next attack on Tig.

Zobelle watched Weston and his two henchmen leave his store with a sense of relief and anxiety. Polly had just stared down the trio with her own weapon; Weston and his cronies had been intent on gunning down Zobelle for selling guns to the Mayan motorcycle club.

Zobelle eyed the foil covered brick of narcotics Weston had placed on the counter with disdain. 'I'll dispose of it later. I have more important issues to confront at the moment.' He stored the block in the cabinet under the register.

He watched Weston talking animatedly on his cellphone before getting into his Bronco and speeding away. The henchmen followed in the battered Ford pickup. 'They will not stay away very long.'

He embraced and kissed Polly goodbye after instructing her to call the deputy chief to report Weston's threat. He knew Hale would send a squad car to watch over her. He ducked out the back door to the corporate Scion.

'Ule is dead. I should not leave Polly alone, but Hale will have someone out quickly in response to Polly's call. I cannot delay this.' Things were beginning to unravel for him and would continue to do so at a rapid pace.

Zobelle drove into Oakland to Alvarez' record store, Casa Loza. The Mayan leader wasn't expecting him, but was present in the store when Zobelle walked in.

"Ah, Senor Zobelle. This is an unexpected pleasure. However, it's been less than 10 days."

"Senor Alvarez, please excuse my abruptness. We need to talk – privately."

Alvarez's raised eyebrows were the only indication of his suprise at Zobelle's request. 'Interesting. Zobelle did not require privacy to discuss our distribution agreement.' He nodded and indicated that Zobelle should precede him to the back office.

Alvarez settled behind his desk, making a sweeping gesture that Zobelle should be seated. "Now, mi amigo, what can I do for you?"

"Circumstances in Charming are changing as we speak. It may become necessary for my daughter and I to leave the area quickly. We will require protection, as Ule has been murdered. Your rivals, the Sons, may decide to come after my daughter and myself. I find it necessary to draw against my investment in your organization for assistance should we need to make an immediate departure."

Alvarez's eyes narrowed in thought. 'This investment of yours grows heavier by the day!' When he spoke, Alvarez' voice was hard as granite. "You are much more than a venture capitalist, Senor. Obviously, the Mayans are in your debt. We will repay that debt. Once you are safely out of town, that debt will be satisfied. When will you require our services?"

Zobelle sighed inwardly with relief. He had feared the outlaw might become angry over his need for assistance. Alvarez seemed more resigned than angry. "I will be in contact with you when the time comes." Zobelle stood and held out his hand. "Thank you, Senor."

Alvarez stood also, but only looked at Zobelle's proferred hand, looking at it as if it were a poisonous snake. His stare was ice cold.

Zobelle nodded and turned away from the Mayan leader, leaving the office and the record store. He had some other visits to make before he could return to Charming and his daughter.

Tig sat on his Dyna as Clay, Jax, and Opie embraced their women, averting his eyes from the tableau. It hurt to see them together when his own woman wasn't able to be with him. He wanted to be able to hold her before the fight to come, to bask in the physical reassurance of her. Instead he had to make do with a phone call. He crouched in the saddle so that no one, especially Kozik, could see the prepaid nestled against his ear.

The upcoming confrontation with Weston and his men could be dangerous, though it was supposed to be the Sons' best 10 against Weston's 10 with no weaponry. There were no guarantees that Weston would abide by the rules he'd agreed to.

The hospital room phone rang once before it was answered by a member of the Portland charter. "Slick here."

"This is Tig. Put her on."

"She'll be right here, Tig. Hang on."

He was both disappointed and surprised that the charter had answered. 'Last time I checked, she was mobile and able to get around. What the fuck's goin' on?' His concern grew as he waited for her to get on the line.

"Hey, love. About ready to head out?"

He relaxed at the cheerful tone in her voice. "Hey, back. Yeah. You OK?"

"I'm as all right as possible, love," she replied dryly.

"Then why the Hell didn't you answer the phone?"

"Because you would've gotten upset if the phone rang more than once. I wasn't physically able to get to it in more than one ring!"

"Why?" His growl reflected his annoyance at the dance of words they were performing.

She sighed. "Love, with no tube in my bladder, there are gonna be times when I'm gonna have to be indisposed!"

He could picture the grin she always got whenever she'd managed to get the better of him. "Shit! Of all the mental images you could give me to take into battle, you sitting on the pot isn't the one I wanted!"

"You're the one who was so insistant, love! If you don't wanna know the brutal truth, don't ask!" She laughed a bit, but it sounded strained to her. "Y'all ready to rumble?"

"Yeah. I'm hoping the driver of that truck is one of Weston's group."

"If he is, be sure to give him a kick in the nuts from me," she replied.

"You got it, baby," He frowned in concern. 'Somethin' about her voice is off. It doesn't sound as strong, like she's hurting.' His concern radiated in his tone. "You sure you're OK?"

"Jesus, Tig! You want me to put the doctor on the line to confirm it?" she sniped, adding a small laugh to take the sting out of it.

"Nah, I believe you! You don't have to get a doctor's note for me this time!" He laughed in mock surrender.

They both fell silent. There was so much he wanted to say but the presence of so many people prevented him. Even if he could say what was on his mind, there wasn't any more time. Opie, Jax, and Clay were walking to their bikes. "We're about to head out, baby. I will see you later."

"I know," she replied. The loving tone told him she knew what he wanted to say and that she understood. "I'll see ya when I see ya, love."

"Later, baby," he replied, flipping the phone closed and stuffing it in his pocket. He started his bike and followed Clay and Jax out of the parking lot towards Timberland.

"Are you sure not telling Tig of your condition and Kozik's visit is such a good idea?" Slick inquired as she handed the receiver back to him.

"Would you want to go into a fight with that kind of thing on your mind?"

Slick returned the receiver to the cradle as he considered her words. "No, I wouldn't," he finally admitted. "But you do realize he won't be happy when he does find out."

She nodded grimly. "I'd much rather deal with a pissed off Tig later than no Tig at all, or have him in critical care."

"Y'know, a lot of women wouldn't be able to appreciate his situation, especially women in your position."

"Literally or figuratively?" she joked.

"Seriously, Lady Cat. I should be so damn lucky as to have a woman like you."

"You will. Just keep your heart open, brother." Cat closed her eye, exhausted from the conversation with Tig and Slick.

"I still don't agree with keepin' him out of the loop, Lady Cat. It's not fair to him, at least the part about Kozik! What if the guy brings it up to Tig before the fight?"

Cat glared at Slick. "I seriously doubt that Kozik's gonna say a word about his visit. He's not the type that likes to own up to failin'. He also doesn't seem to be stupid enough to tell Tig what he did before a rumble! They both need to save their energy for LOAN."

"Fine! You may not wanna tell him, but there's nothin' stoppin' me!" Slick countered. He picked up the phone and started dialing Tig's cellphone.

"Slick, put the phone down!" Cat ordered, sitting up and swinging her legs to the side. "You are notcallin' Tig about Kozik! I'll tell him after the fight."

Slick shook his head. "Tig needs to know Kozik isn't on his side. I'm callin' him and that's all there is to it!"

Cat's lunged for the phone, yanking the receiver from Slick's hand and knocking her side that had the tube inserted in it against the bedtable. Her other hand hit the disconnect button, cutting off the call before could connect. "Slick, I mean it! He's already on the road and won't get the message 'til next time he checks the phone, which will likely be after the fight! Let it be!"

"Then there ain't gonna be a problem if I leave him a message!" Slick didn't like arguing with her, but he didn't agree with her reasoning. "A man deserves to know who does and doesn't have his back when going into battle. Kozik doesn't have his back!"

"Kozik will have the club's back, Slick. He values Clay's opinion; he's not gonna fuck that up." Cat felt unsteady on her feet; the local for the incision had worn off and the pain in her side intensified. 'What is it about these men that they won't listen to me? I won't be the cause of Tig's focus being off tonight. I don't want him getting hurt on account of me!'

Slick's eyes widened in alarm at the sight of a red stain on the side of her gown. "Damn, Cat! Your side's bleeding!" He raced to the bed and pressed the call button.

"May I have help you?"

"We need a nurse in here, quick. Lady Cat is bleeding where the tube is!"

"We're on our way. Try to keep her calm."

"Easier said than done!" Slick muttered dryly. He reached out his hands to help her back to the bed.

"Shit!" Cat could feel a trickle of warm fluid run down her side. "Guess I jiggled the damn thing!" She allowed Slick to help her as a doctor and nurse entered the room.

"What the Hell happened here?" Dr. Gallagher asked. The nurse quickly drew the curtain around the bed and got Cat prepped.

"She got upset with me, jumped off the bed to keep me from making a call she didn't want made. I guess she dislodged the tube," Slick explained. "Is it serious?"

"It might be. If you'll just wait outside," Dr. Gallagher replied, rolling up the sleeves of his coat as he headed to the bathroom to scrub his hands.

Slick stepped out into the hall, allowing the door to close behind him. He contemplated making the call to Tig, but decided against it. 'She hurt herself tryin' to stop me. I might not agree with her, but I can't go behind her back now.'

Inside the room, Dr. Gallagher and the nurse were busily checking over the chest tube. The hospital gown had been removed and the nurse had cleaned the area around the tube.

Dr. Gallagher carefully examined the incision. "It looks like you knocked the tube loose along with the packing that kept it in place. Miss Marshall, this kind of thing cannot continue. If you have another setback, I'll be forced to deny all visitors, including your boyfriend, for your own good!"

"That's not fair!" Cat fired back angrily. "Tig hasn't done anything to be denied seein' me when he can! I did this to myself, denying visitors will punish the wrong people!"

She gestured wildly with her right hand as she spoke, nearly striking the Doctor in her distress. At a nod from Dr. Gallagher, the nurse stuck a hypodermic needle in Cat's left arm above the cast and depressed the plunger.

"All right, Miss Marshall. Relax," he spoke soothingly. "I won't impose a 'no visitors' rule for now. But you're going to have to behave. I'm going to repair the damage you did to yourself. You'll be all right."

While Dr. Gallagher worked to replace the tube, Cat fought the sedative. She feared that Slick would call Alex while she was under the influence and that he'd get the message before the fight. 'If that happens, we'll both be patients, or somethin' worse could happen to him!' Though she fought the medicine, it worked its' way through her system and she was soon sound asleep.

Timberland had nothing to do with outdoor shoes and apparel, like the store that shared its' name. This particular Timberland was a lumber yard, surrounded by trees and accessible via a dirt road.

The Sons' bikes were parked in a single line with the headlights turned on to illuminate the clearing. The men waited in silence, preparing themselves mentally and physically for the fight.

Tig contined to avoid contact with Kozik. The Tacoma man's presence rubbed him the wrong way. 'He may be here to help the club but he's a constant reminder of shit I've buried and wanna keep that way. He's not willing to forgive, much less let me forget.' Tig paced from his parked Dyna to the line of waiting Sons and back again in anticipation.

Clay sat on his bike with his back turned to Kozik, watching Tig pace. He knew his friend was trying not to think about his lady's injuries. 'He's as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. It's been a long time since I've seen him this wound up!'

Tig's thoughts kept returning to the night of the wreck and of Cat lying injured and silent in the PT's wreckage. 'She's OK. She's awake and recovering. That's what I gotta keep in mind.' He didn't hear Kozik walk up behind him until the rider spoke out.

"So you finally took yourself an 'old lady', Tiggy!" Kozik snarled, shoving Tig in the back and sending him stumbling forward. Tig recovered and whirled to face his antagonist. Kozik frowned with anger and his eyes glinted like steel. "It took longer than I expected!"

"Get away from me, Kozik! This isn't the time or place for this shit!" Tig retorted.

Kozik grinned mockingly. "I think it's the perfect time and place, Tiggy! Have to admit I wondered if history was gonna repeat itself if this one ever turned up preggers. That's one thing that's never gonna happen!"

Tig's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

Kozik stepped forward so that he was nearly nose to nose with Trager. "I met your old lady today, Tiggy! Surprised me to see she's not the sweetbutt I heard you prefer. I expected to find some starry-eyed young kid rebelling against her Daddy and the church. Instead I find an ancient, dried up pussy with only a moderately decent rack!"

Tig glared at Kozik. "You don't know shit, Kozik!"

Kozik smiled nastily. "C'mon, Tiggy! I'm sure your old lady already told you about my visit!"

'You know she didn't, you fucking asshole! I'd be nuts to admit it to ya!' Tig scowled silently.

'Ha! She didn't tell him!' Kozik's smile increased in nastiness. "Tsk-tsk! Not a good thing to let your woman keep things from you, Tiggy!"

Tig ached to ram his fist into Kozik's sneering mouth, but he fought to keep his anger under control. He took a deep breath and replied, "Your beef is with me, Kozik. Leave her outta this. We can discuss this later."

"What's the matter, Tiggy? You too scared to take me on?" Kozik pushed at Tig's chest, knocking him back a couple of feet. "I say we settle this now! Consider it a warm up!"

Clay leapt from his bike to intercede between the pair. "We don't have time for this personal bullshit! Kozik, get back over there and stay next to Juice!" Juice was standing on the farthest end of the row, with Bobby, Opie, and Happy beside him. 'That puts enough people between them to ward off any more trouble. Maybe it was a mistake to bring Kozik. I can't do anything it now, we need the muscle.'

The two would-be combatants glared at each other, neither one willing to move. Clay grabbed Kozik by the arm and pulled him away from Tig. "Move it, Kozik!"

Kozik shrugged his shoulders and smiled sardonically at the Redwood President. "Sure, Clay! Whatever you say!" His parting look at Tig stated the matter wasn't over between them.

"You all right?" Clay asked quietly, taking note of Tig's rigid posture and angry stare at Kozik's retreating back.

"Yeah," Tig replied. 'I hope she had a good reason for keepin' silent about Kozik visitin' her. She'd better have one.'

Satisfied that the infighting was over for the moment, Clay settled back on his bike, keeping a wary eye on Tig.

Tig resumed pacing, glaring at Kozik from time to time. Kozik pretended to ignore him. Tig quit pacing to stand next to Clay when he heard the sound of approaching motors. He gazed off towards the road where headlights could be seen between the trees.

"They're comin'." Jax announced.

Tig and Clay stepped forward into the line of waiting men. Prospect was jumping up and down, preparing himself for battle. All the others were moving in some kind of warm up motion. Only Tig stood stock still, hands on his belt. Waiting and watching.

Several trucks pulled into the clearing, their lights shining into the space already illuminated by the parked motorcycles. Men of varying shapes and sizes, all members of the Aryan Brotherhood, jumped from the beds and climbed from the cabs of the trucks. They carried guns and were prepping them for use.

'Figures they wouldn't abide by the agreement,' Tig fumed.

The gang of Aryans, many more than the agreed upon 10, faced the assembled riders, guns ready. Weston smirked at what appeared to him to be an easy win. 'The biker asshole really thought I'd not come with arms and extra muscle! This is gonna be so easy!'

Tig had one eye on the Sons' VP, his other searching the crowd for the rental truck's driver. At Jax's nod, Tig lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew that shrill, attention getting whistle.

Immediately, a group of heavily armed One Niners led by Laroy burst from one side of the building behind the Sons. On the other side of the building, just as heavily armed, came a group of Triads led by Lin. It was obvious to the Aryans and Weston that they were outgunned and outnumbered.

Tig continued to stare across the dirt ground, taking in the faces of the Aryans that had accompanied Weston, still looking for a certain one. He'd only got a quick look at the driver the other night, but that face was seared in his memory.

'Jax can have Weston, I wanna get my hands on the driver of that truck!' His eyes flashed with rage when he finally spotted the man. He was dressed in a white shirt and standing right across the yard from him.

Tig pointed out his choice to Prospect, who was standing to his right. "The big guy in the white shirt. He's mine!"

Prospect nodded. There were plenty of Aryans to pummel.

Tig grinned sardonically at his chosen foe. 'Guns, fists, knieves, doesn't matter. This guy is in for a hurtin'!'

The four groups stared each other down for a few moments before Weston ordered his men to drop their guns. 'Doesn't matter whether we fight with guns or our fists. Either way, I'll win!' Weston thought to himself.

With the Aryans lowering their hardware, the Triads and One Niners lowered their own. As a group, they kept the hardware ready just in case their help was needed. Once all the guns were lowered, the fight began as Jax advanced on Weston.

Hands at his sides, Tig moved toward his chosen adversary, glaring at the wheelman with unbridled fury. The two circled warily, sizing each other up. Tig saw an opening and let fly with a hard left jab, his rings crunching satisfyingly against the Aryan's jaw.

"That the best ya got?" The man sneered. He recognized Tig from the accident scene the night before. "You hit as well as you shoot. Lousy!" He shook off the punch like a dog shaking water from its coat. He swung back at Tig, who ducked and used the Aryan's momentum to his advantage to throw a right cross.

Tig's Marine training automatically kicked in. He shut out the sounds of fighting around him and the truck driver's sneering taunts. His entire focus was on the matter at hand, getting revenge.

The Aryan left himself open again and Tig siezed the opportunity, letting loose with a powerful left jab to his opponent's face, followed by a right and another left. The final left jab sent the LOAN member crashing to the ground, landing on his back in the dust.

Tig wasted no time in pressing his advantage. He fell to his left knee, bracing it against his opponent's side, his right leg extended out to support his weight. Tig's left hand held the Aryan's head in place, the fingers spread and digging into the man's scalp.

He glared malevolently into his opponent's eyes as he brought his head down over the Aryan'sf ace and clamped his teeth firmly into his nose. Tig bit through the skin, tearing a hunk of flesh as he reared his head back.

The LOAN member screamed in agony as Tig's teeth tore through the skin of his nose. His hands covered his nose as he used his feet to push away from his attacker.

Tig knelt on the ground, growling as he spat blood and skin from his mouth. "That's for trying to kill my woman!" he snarled, rising to his feet and kicking the Aryan's balls for good measure. "And that's from her! You kill like you fight, lousy! If you ever come around her again, I'll kill ya!"

He was panting and spitting the Aryan taste out of his mouth, but grinned in satisfaction as he watched his adversary wreathing in agony on the ground. Tig glanced around the clearing, noting that the other members of LOAN were in nearly as bad shape as his foe, though none of the other Sons had taken a bite out of their opponents.

The fight was drawing to a close. Juice had just completed his fight, while Chibs was throwing up his arms in a victory roar. Even Kozik had managed to successfully dispatch his opponent.

Jax and Clay were the only ones still fighting, and Clay's fight was nearly wrapped up. Sirens wailed on patrol cars approached, the flashing blue and red warning lights could be seen through the trees.

The One Niners and the Triads headed for the trees. Their presence was no longer needed and they had no desire to visit the Charming lock up.

Weston struggled to his feet, blood oozing from several cuts on his face. He barked orders to his followers to gather the wounded together and get out.

LOAN members who'd not been involved in the fight assisted their battered brethren to their feet and into the waiting trucks. Jax pushed Weston in the back, causing him to turn and snarl that their fight wasn't over yet.

Clay was pissed for the cops weren't supposed to show up at all. He kicked the rear end of the Aryan he'd been pummeling out of frustration.

The Sons gathered together, watching the LOAN members scurry to their trucks and leave the grounds. Hale's jeep raced into the clearing, headdlights illuminating the area.

Hale barked commands into his radio to the patrol cars following him. The rumble was over, and from the looks of the battered Aryans retreating from the scene, LOAN had gotten the worst of it.

Hale climbed out of his Jeep, taking in the sight of the victorious Sons and battered Weston. Clay growled that the fight didn't concern Hale, while the Chief Deputy retorted that anything happening in Charming concerned him.

Hale surprised the Sons by grabbing Weston and arresting him for the Caracara arson. Weston was the only person taken into custody. There was no law against fighting in a wooded area; there had been no citizens' peace disturbed.

Clay murmured an order to Tig to call Unser to get things ready for them at the cigar store. While Tig was made the call, Clay walked up to Kozik and steered him away from the group. "Go back to the clubhouse. We don't need you at Zobelle's."

Kozik looked from Clay to Tig and then back to Clay, smiling and spreading his arms wide. "Aw, c'mon, Clay! Surely you're not gonna let that little tussle between me and Tig earlier bother ya! You still need my help!"

"This is not a joke, Kozik! Don't make me repeat myself." Clay's eyes were cold as steel. He turned to Happy and Prospect. "You two go along and make sure Kozik returns to the clubhouse. See to it that he makes no detours."

"You got it, Clay." Happy stared coldly at the Tacoma rider. "Move, Kozik." The Redwood men couldn't help witnessing Kozik's confrontation with Tig. None of them appreciated Kozik's timing, nor were they pleased with the knowledge that he'd made an unauthorized visit to Cat's room.

Kozik knew he had no choice. Under Clay's watchful eye, he sauntered to his Harley and strapped on his helmet. Happy and Prospect mounted their own bikes and manuvered them behind Kozik's. At a nod from Clay, they headed on out ahead of the patrol cars.

Tig drew a sigh of relief. 'I don't have to keep watchin' my back tonight!' He noted with concern that there was no still message on the cell. 'Why wouldn't she want me to know Kozik was there? Maybe I need to ask her about it!' He glanced up to find that Clay was straddling his bike. 'Shit!' He walked to his Dyna, pocketing the pre-paid as he mounted the bike. 'She's prolly sleeping anyway.' The thought didn't give him much comfort. He couldn't contain a nagging worry over the phone silence. He'd thought everyone had gotten the message the last time. 'Guess I'll just have to reinforce it later.'

The police cars left the clearing, taking Weston to lockup. The Sons followed a few minutes later. As the travelers proceeded back to town, they didn't see an ominous tableau in the opposite lane: several rats were making their meal from the carcass of a black crow lying on the asphalt.

Frosty had to be back on the air the next day, so he left Charming in the early evening, just as GreyRider's replacement, Slick, arrived for guard duty. He'd considered taking another personal day to stay around in case there were any complications from Cat's collasped lung 'Wish the show was gonna be pre-empted for a Dodgers game, then there'd be no worries. I can't afford, ratings-wise, to take a second personal day.'

Cat understood his dilemma. "It's OK, Frosty. LA radio is too chancy and this is a good gig. You didn't have to come here last night, but you did, and I love you for it. Now go home, and if y'all wanna come back over the weekend, you're more than welcome. I doubt they'll let me out before the middle of next week."

Frosty hugged her goodbye, being careful of the tube in her side. "You be nice to Tig. He's a good man. You mean a lot to him, maybe more than either of you realize."

He walked over to GreyRider and clasped the Portland rider's hand. "Watch my girl, man. Been good to meet ya."

GreyRider returned the grasp. "Safe drive, Frosty."

The door closed softly behind the broadcaster.

He was impressed with the Portland riders he'd met that day, and more so with Alex. 'I hope he beats the Hell out of the asshole that hurt her.'

He felt in his pocket for the two chains and rings wrapped in the catalog page Alex had given him earlier. He thought over the request Alex had made of him.

'LA has a lot of jewelry stores. I recall one of our advertisers designs rings. They might be able to make the changes in a short amount of time. It'd be nice to get 'em back to Alex this weekend.' Frosty climbed into his car and started the long journey back to LA, his mind turning over the various retailers that might be of help in his quest.

Unser pulled to a stop behind the patrol car parked in front of Impeccable Smokes. Hale had sent a pair of uniformed officers to sit guard over Zobelle's daughter after she reported being threatened. 'Likely it was Weston, acting out on Zobelle's betrayal.' Unser had grown weary of the differential treatment Hale had given Zobelle. He was more than pleased to put an end to it at Clay's behest.

He walked up to the passenger side of the patrol car. "Evening, boys. Shift's over, go on back to HQ. I'll stay and help Miss Zobelle close shop." The driver started the car and pulled away from the store.

Unser strode into the smoke shop, closed the door and made it look as if he locked it. He turned the shop sign to 'closed' and lowered the blind in the door nearly half way.

Polly felt awkward and anxious by the cheif's sudden appearance and dismissal of the patrol officers. She didn't like the way he took the liberty of closing the shop. 'Guess I'm just nervous from Weston's appearance. Unser's not going to do anything to hurt me.'

Unser helped himself to a cigar, sat down and lit it. He explained that he'd sent his officers to do something that mattered. The police cheif's demeanor didn't reassure her. 'I wish Daddy would hurry up and get back. I don't like this.'

Hours had passed since she'd stared Weston and two of his 'faithful' down, their three guns against her own. Her father had been able to talk Weston down from his rage and the trio had left without firing their guns. Polly knew that Weston had determined that her father was not what he'd seemed to be.

Zobelle had only told her that he was arranging new protection for them when he left, leaving her to rely on CPD for protection and to mind the store. 'Not that we've seen a lot of business today! Why can't Daddy at least call and let me know when he'll be back?' Her nervousness grew as Unser sat blowing smoke rings and reached a fever pitch when she heard motorcycle engines pull up in front.

Seconds later, Clay Morrow stormed through the supposedly locked door, followed by his fellow outlaws. He slapped her hard in the face when she told him she didn't know where her father was.

Two of the riders, both tall and dark-haired, stalked to the back of the shop to see if Zobelle was hiding there. Morrow grabbed Polly by her ponytail and demanded she call her father. Though she was frightened for her life, she refused to obey, stammering that she had no idea where he was.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest when Morrow pulled his gun and shoved it under the hem of her dress, up against her crotch. Gone was the fearless woman who'd stared down Weston. In her place was a scared little girl who wanted her father, and desperately hoped he wouldn't show up.

Unser moved to intervene just as Polly heard her father call for her as he came through the back entrance. The two dark riders waited on either side of the storeroom door and grabbed Zobelle when he rushed in. They forced him towards Clay, who tossed Polly into the arms of the tall rider with the 'Sgt at Arms' patch on his vest. The outlaw in the beanie kept a firm grip on Zobelle.

The dark-haired Sgt. At Arms thrust Polly into a chair opposite the one Unser had vacated. He pointed a finger at her and snarled an order for her remain still. Her eyes nearly crossed at the rigid finger pointed at her nose.

Tig's hand dug in the girl's shoulder as he held her down in the chair. He glared at Zobelle's daughter, unmoved by her tears and shaking. 'I'm bettin' you knew what Weston was up to last night, little girl! You're not as innocent as you act!'

Morrow and Zobelle traded words, while Unser and the other riders looked on. Zobelle refused to go quietly with the club, so the outlaw in the beanie forced Zobelle to kneel on the floor as Clay prepared his gun again.

'Shit! Much as I hate this gash, no kid needs to watch their father being killed!' Tig put his hand over Polly's eyes and turned her face to one side to sheild her from the sight of her father's demise. Polly could only sob and whine in terror.

Hale and a uniformed officer walked in on the tableau. Hale immediately drew his own firearm, while Zobelle cried out to Hale of the Sons' crimes against him and his daughter, demanding the club be arrested. The other officer walked in through the back way, his own gun drawn.

Unser called out to his men to put their weapons away and go back to headquarters, reminding them that he still outranked them. After a few moments indecision, the two uniformed officers complied with their cheif's order. Hale was more reticent but eventually lowered his gun.

'How can the chief say 'no crime's been committed here?' A sudden sick thought crossed Polly's mind. 'He's on their side! That's why he's letting Morrow do all this shit!'

Hale and the one officer started to leave when Zobelle cried out that there was a brick of heroin in the store. The officer that had entered through the back reached under the counter Zobelle indicated and pulled out the foil wrapped drugs, tossing the brick on the counter.

Zobelle triumphantly ordered Hale to arrest him and his daughter. Polly breathed a sigh of relief. 'Thank God! We're safe!'

Tig walked through the door of 'Impeccable Smokes' into the fresh, cool night air. His head pounded with a dull ache brought on from the fight at Timberland.

Behind him, the two CPD officers were completing the process of handcuffing Ethan and Polly Zobelle and reading their Miranda rights to them. Zobelle's confession had been a desperate ploy to avoid facing the Sons' unique brand of justice.

Tig's eyes automatically gazed up the street towards 'Charming Pawse', but it was closed and locked for the night. Behind the store, the house he shared

with Cat was also locked and dark. The only beings present were the felines.

Tig had no desire to return to the house for the night. 'I can't go back until she comes home. The place'll be too empty without her. The cats'll be ok and Chucky will be there tomorrow.'

He stopped in front of one of the plate glass windows, turning his face away from his wife's coffeehouse. He glanced at Juice then glowered at the still silent cellphone. 'Shit!'

All the Sons felt letdown over the way things had turned out since the lockdown began. None of the top people within LOAN had yet to pay for their crimes against the club. They'd gotten some satisfaction from beating the Aryan Brotherhood, but it wasn't enough for what LOAN had done to them.

Jax stalked from the store to sit astride his bike, staring off into space. Clay was the last of the Sons to exit the store and stood to the left of the entrance, leaning against the wall and gazing at his step-son as Zobelle was led to a waiting patrol car.

'It ain't over yet. There's something about Zobelle's expression I don't like. He's up to something, I can feel it.' Tig thought, watching with his brothers as the Zobelles, hands cuffed behind their backs, were led to separate squad cars. Zobelle had a smug smile on his face as he passed Clay. The smile turned into a smirk when his gaze rested on Tig.

"I do hope your lady recovers from her 'accident', Mr. Trager. Too bad that the culprits have not been apprehended. It is likely they will never 'pay' for their crime."

Tig darted after the businessman, intent on wiping the smirk off his face in spite of the presence of CPD. Juice and Chibs grabbed either arm, holding him back.

Zobelle laughed as he was bundled into Unser's patrol car. Polly quietly settled into another police cruiser, her eyes never met any of the Sons' or the officers.

'Easy, bruther!' Chibs hissed in his friend's ear. "Goin' after 'im ain't wurth sharin' a cell wi' Weston!'

Clay walked over to stand in front of Tig, who relaxed against the hands holding him secure. "I know how you feel, man. Chibs is right. There's nothing we can do to them now. Get outta here. Go to Cat. Meet us at CPD in the morning. We'll be there at dawn."

The squad cars pulled away, lights flashing without sirens. Zobelle hadn't missed Tig's reaction to his taunt and smiled dryly. 'They are disappointed by the outcome of this evening. They are going to be even more disappointed come morning.'

The Sons mounted their bikes and followed the cop cars. None of them looked at the coffeehouse as they passed it. Tig's Dyna split off from the group at the intersection, making the turn to St. Thomas. The other riders continued trailing the police cars until they turned off towards the clubhouse.

It didn't take long to reach St. Thomas from Main Street, but the ride felt interminable to Alex. 'What the Hell does a man hafta do to get orders followed for fuck's sake?'

Though it was long past visiting hours, no one challenged him as he stalked through the main entrance. His expression warned anyone who might have tried to stop him to think again. He took the stairs two at a time and stormed towards Cat's room.

He paused at the door, taking a few moments to take some deep, cleansing breaths. 'Ya gotta calm down, man. You'll scare the shit out of her if you barge in like gangbusters. Give her a chance to tell ya why she didn't warn ya about Kozik.'

He opened the door and stepped inside. Frosty was gone. GreyRider had been replaced by Slick, who was sitting in the chair next to Cat's bed, watching the TV. Cat appeared to be asleep.

To Alex's surprise, the oxygen tube was back under her nose. Her right arm lay away from her body and a tube peeked out of the sheet from her right side. 'What the fuck has been goin' on?'

Slick, who wore a beanie cap and a beard as bushy as Opie's, looked up warily when the door opened, then relaxed when he saw Tig walk in. "Hey, Tig. I'm Slick. She's sleeping. They had to do a couple of procedures earlier."

"What kind of procedures?" Tig growled, barely remembering to keep his voice down. "And why the Hell didn't anyone call and tell me?"

Slick stood up, his arms held out in a gesture of supplication. "Collasped lung. GreyRider said she barfed all over after that guy from Tacoma left. Her friend called the nurses, they called the doc, and wham-bam, the procedure was done just like that and she was breathing easier."

"That doesn't excuse the silence! I left orders to get an update message every hour," he replied coldly.

"I know, Tig. GreyRider and Frosty tried to reason with her. She said she didn't want your focus taken from the fight. She knew neither of them would lie to you, so she wouldn't let them call you."

Tig glared at Cat, then back at Slick. "You say both GreyRider and Frosty were here when she had the setback? What time was that?"

"I dunno. I spelled Greyrider a little after 630 in the evening. Her friend was gone and the tube was already in her side."

"So it happened before we left for Timberland," Tig determined. "Which means her lung must've collasped when we got back from Galt! Damn her independent, stubborn ass! She's the most annoying, aggravating, willful female in town!"

He was upset and hurt that she'd kept such news from him. He wanted to strike something or someone, just to let off frustration, but decided not to give in to the urge.

"I tried to explain it to her after GreyRider left. She raised all kinds of unholy Hell; got upset and took the phone away from me when I started to call you and knocked the tube loose. I called the nurses and she fought the doctor. They had to sedate her. Hell, she was so worked up the doctor said she fought the drug's effect!"

Tig's hand went to the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, that's my girl. A'right, I get it. Nothin' you could do. She had your balls in a vice."

"No shit, man!" Slick smiled grimly. "Maybe not literal, but a virtual vice can be just as painful. Did ya get 'em good?"

"Yeah," Tig smiled with grim satisfaction. "CPD busted Weston after the fight; Zobelle and his kid are also in custody."

"I can get the 4-1-1 at the clubhouse. Guess you want some privacy, least as much as ya can get here! One of us will spell ya in the mornin'."

"A'right. I gotta leave at dawn." Tig glared icily at Slick and growled warningly, "tell your charter there'll be Hell to pay if I don't get regular updates tomorrow. Understood?"

"You got it." Slick left as if the Devil himself had just lit a fire under his ass.

'I fuckin' well better get 'em!' He walked to the far side of the hospital bed where he'd first sat vigil over her. 'Shit. It feels like it's been a fucking week instead of a day!' His eyes roamed over her sleeping body, watching her chest rise and fall in deep, even movements. 'Guess the tube is doin' what it's supposed to since she's breathing OK.'

He sat down in the chair and lay his head in his hands. The dull headache had become a steady pain that thumped in time with the ache in his heart. "Fuck, baby! You gotta quit shuttin' me out!"

He was bone tired. Part of him wanted to wake her up and lay down the law. His desire to lay down beside her, hold her close, and sleep was greater. He reached down and removed his boots, wrinkling his nose at the aroma that drifted from them. "Shit!"

"Not shit, but pretty damn close!" Cat murmured groggily, her unbandaged eye fluttering open. "Eau de feete, guaranteed to wake the dead!"

He winced. "Don't joke about that, baby! You came too close last night!" Alex stood up, leaned over the bed, and laid his lips over hers. The kiss he bestowed on her was hungry and possessive, but light because his mouth was sore from the fight.

"Hey!"

"Hey back," he replied. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"That's OK. Much as I love you, would you mind takin' yer socks and leavin' 'em in the bathroom? They're a little ripe."

"I thought you vowed to be with me for better or worse, wife!"

"The vows said nothin' about funky socks. That definitely falls in the category of 'beyond worse'!"

Alex bent over her and kissed her again. "OK. But you 'n me are gonna have a little talk about that tube in your side."

"There's a bag in the closet for ya. Pete brought a change of clothes for you." She grinned rogueishly, "the tube's not the only thing we have to talk about, love."

'Pete must've told her about Chucky. I have a bad feelin' about that!' He winced from the admonitory tone in her voice and retreated into the bathroom. He didn't retrieve the change of clothes. He looked at the shower, then at his grimy face in the mirror. "Eh, why not? A hot shower would feel good." He turned on the shower, stripped, and stepped under the stream of hot water, using the hospital provided soap to lather up.

The two CPD patrol cars pulled into the parking lot, followed by Hale's Jeep. The Zobelles were removed from the squad cars and hustled into headquarters, though no news crews were present to film them.

'Just as well, we don't need the media circus,' Hale thought. 'It'll be crazy enough around here with the Feds crawling all over once Stahl finds out Zobelle and his daughter are under arrest.'

He watched as the pair were fingerprinted and photographed. Once they were processed, and their jewelry and other personal items were stored along with belts, neckties, and anything else that a person might be tempted to use as a device for suicide, they were led to a cell.

"We don't usually put mixed couples in one cell," Unser observed to his deputy. "But we also can't put Zobelle and Weston in the same cell; they'd tear each other's throats out."

"I don't think you'd mind that too much," Hale mused dryly.

"I wouldn't. Would be quite a mess to clean up, though."

"Would keep the bloodshed out of Charming, so to speak," Hale replied.

Unser glared at his deputy's candor. "Put them together in the same cell. Being in the one next to Weston might still cause sparks to fly. Can't do anything about that, but it'll only be verbal sparks."

They escorted the Zobelles to the holding cells. As father and daughter entered the area, Weston looked up from his solitary bunk. 'I'm not surprised to see Zobelle here, but Polly too? What the Hell happened?'

His intense gaze fell on both of them. Polly couldn't or wouldn't look at him and ducked into the adjoining cell. Ethan Zobelle stood in front of Weston's cell for a moment. Their eyes locked, then Zobelle joined his daughter. Hale closed and locked the cell door behind Zobelle, then he and Unser left the trio alone.

A cement block wall kept the prisoners from being able to see each other, but they could still talk to each other if they were so inclined. Polly sat dejectedly on the bunk, her eyes full of fear.

"Everything will be all right, Polly," Zobelle assured her. "This is only a temporary situation for us. By morning, things will change for the better and we will be released."

"And then the Sons will be after us again!" Polly cried.

"I have taken steps to protect us from the Sons, Polly. We will be safe when we are released. I promise you that."

Weston snorted derisively. "That's what you think! They know about the gang rape, of Polly's and my involvement in it. They know about the arson at Caracara. That's where I was tonight, fighting them with some of the Brotherhood. They're out to kill us. Nobody's safe!"

"Correction, AJ. There is nothing concrete to tie Polly and myself to either of those events. The Sons only have Gemma Morrow's word that Polly was involved. Mr. Darby, if he survived the fire, has not come forward to identify either of us. The Sons may want revenge, but Clay Morrow is the type of man who has to be absolutely sure before he makes the kill. He has some sense of honor for an outlaw."

Zobelle put his arm around his quaking daughter to comfort her. "We will be quite safe, Polly."

What makes you think I won't tell the Sons what I know, you race traitor?" Weston challenged.

"I would be disappointed if you did not, AJ. Everything that you know is just the tip of the iceberg. There are things you do not know that will protect my daughter and myself. Unfortunately, that protection will not extend to you."

Weston knew Zobelle was smirking in that enigmatic way he always did whenever he felt he had the upper hand. "I have nothing more to say to you. You're a traitor to the cause! When I'm out of here, I'll tell everyone involved in LOAN of your treachery andthey will deal with you!"

Zobelle smiled that enigmatic smile. 'We will see, AJ. We shall see."

As soon as Alex disappeared into the bathroom, Cat removed the oxygen tube from under her nose, eased out of the bed, and opened the closet where Pete had stored the small cooler. A couple of bottles of Alex's favorite beer were nestled amongst the ice cubes. Resting on top of the mound of ice was a wrapped sandwich, piled high with roast beef, tomatoes, and cheese. Both the top and bottom of the bread was liberally spread with his favorite condiment.

'Maybe not a full course meal, but should be enough to take the edge off his hunger. Especially once he gets to his dessert!' She set the cooler on top of the rolling table. Next to the cooler, she set the Charming Pawse pastry bag.

Cat walked to the bathroom door and listened for a moment, smiling at the sound of running water. 'I hoped he'd make use of it. It'll help him relax.' She opened the door just enough to slip inside. As she hoped, he was too tired to notice the slight change in temperature as the door opened and shut behind her.

She quietly picked up the dirty clothes he'd strewn about the bathroom and hung them on the hook on the door. 'If he wants to wear dirty clothes after a bath, I can deal with it. They're not as ripe as his sox.'

She then took the opportunity to freshen herself via a sink bath. It was difficult to perform with one plastered arm and one eye, but she felt more presentable afterwards. 'Just in case he needs to satiate another appetite.' She removed the large towel he'd placed close to the shower and held it against her, waiting until he was ready for it.

The heated water eased muscles made sore from the fight. 'Wish she were in here with me. No fun showering alone." When the water began to run cool, he shut off the shower and reached for the towel he'd left out, only to feel bare metal where the towel had been just moments earlier.

"What the fuck?"

"Is that an invitation, love?" Cat responded wickedly.

"Shit!" He stepped out of the shower and stared at her in surprise, forgetting for a moment that he was dripping wet. She was wearing nothing but the binder, the cast, and a smile, holding the towel open for him. He could see the twin bruises on her upper legs from the impact of the dash and other bruises from the shoulder harness he'd not seen before. Despite the bandages and bruises, his lower regions immediately stood at attention at the sight of her naked body.

She smiled at his salute, noting with satisfaction that there were no new marks on him from the fight. She stepped forward and enfolded him in the towel, gently but rubbing him dry.

He reached over her to grab another towel to cover his dripping hair. "Should you be out of bed with that thing in your side? Can you breathe OK without the oxygen tube?" he asked worriedly, rubbing the towel over his head.

"They want me up and moving on occasion to keep blood clots from forming in my legs. As long as I don't run any marathons, I'm OK," she replied, admiring his body as she continued to dry him.

He noticed his dirty clothes had been picked up. 'I should be takin' care of her, dammit! Not the other way 'round.' He continued rubbing his hair dry, using the towel to cover his chagrin. "You're doin' too much, baby. Go back to bed."

"You're sure there's not anything you'd like from me?" she pouted, wrapping the towel around his waist.

"Baby, I'd like to do some real fun and interesting things to you, but you're not physically ready for that – yet. You just had that tube put in for cryin' out loud! I don't wanna jostle it and hurt you." He stepped forward to embrace her, though his rock hard cock strained against the towel covering him.

"You usually need to after a fight, love." She glanced at the shower, which offered a handicapped accessible seat in the corner. "If you'd rather have a blow job, my mouth doesn't hurt, and I could sit on the shower seat."

'Dammit! I want you so bad it hurts, and that wistful expression doesn't make it any easier not to take you up on it!' He kissed her hungrily again, then placed his hands on her shoulders. "Baby, I'd love to do some really bad things to you, but don't wanna cause more harm to you just to get my own pleasure. I can wait until we can both enjoy it." He kissed her again and then gently pushed her out the bathroom door, giving her no chance to argue.

He finished drying off and dressed, except for his sox and boots. He decided to leave those in the bathroom. 'Might as well get this confrontation over with, now that everything's settled down.' He opened the bathroom door and stepped into the room.

Cat was dressed in the hospital gown and sitting up on the far right side of the bed, which she'd raised to a reclining position. She'd put the oxygen tube back under her nose again and was listening to 'Timeline'. Andre Marek was falling under the spell of Lady Clare as they fled from the English in a river. "There's something about this part of the movie, the pair of them feelin' their connection. When you can't see it, the dialouge still makes that clear." She turned her face towards Alex and added, "Feel better, love?"

"Yeah," he padded to the right side of the bed and placed his knife holster and cut on the chair he'd sat in the night before. Instead of joining her on the bed as she expected, he stood next to it, scowling at her with his arms crossed over his chest. He was close enough to her that she could easily see his scowl without her glasses.

"What's wrong, love?" She asked innocently, turning down the volume on the television to give him her full attention.

"You know what's wrong! I left strict instructions to receive hourly updates. I didn't get 'em." He lay his hand on her mouth to stifle her protest, his thumb caressing her lips. "No talking, woman! I know that you were thinkin' of my safety, but this shit has to stop. I gotta be kept in the loop about you when I'm not here!"

She moved her mouth away from his hand, her eye sparking with emerald fire. "Dammit, Alex! I haven't had to make hourly check ins since I was a little kid!"

His fingers gently grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were filled with hurt she couldn't see clearly. "Dontcha realize how much it hurt me to come back here and just now find out you had a setback! Damn it! I wanna be here for you when you need me!"

Cat gazed up at him, ashamed of her momentary flash of temper. "I know you do, love. But you didn't need to be distracted before the fight. It was just a collapsed lung that they anticipated might happen. The whole thing was over with in a few seconds."

His scowl grew more intense. "Just a collasped lung? You make that sound like nothing! It's fucking important to me!"

"Alex, I didn't want to be a bother to you."

"Bother? Bother? Dammit to Hell, woman!" Tig's eyes snapped with anger. "What fucking bothers me is you don't tell me shit I need to know! I'm your husband, and deserve to know these things when they happen, not hours later, if I hear about 'em at all!"

"What do y'all mean, if y'all hear about 'em at all?"

"Shit like Weston and his Aryan buddies following you to and from Rosen's office, and like Weston trying to trap you at a stop light!" Tig snarled.

Cat felt her heart plunge to her stomach. "Did Hale rat me out?"

"Unser told me. What I wanna know is why the fuck didn't you? Why did I have to find out days later from someone else?"

"Well, love, you were a little indisposed the night it happened," she grinned, but sobered quickly as he continued to glower. "As far as tellin' you the next mornin', you'd just come down from the 'shroom trip. It didn't seem fair to burden you with ancient history. It was over, I was OK, and I -" She broke off, unable to finish the thought.

He finished the sentence for her, "You were afraid I'd put my foot down and make you cancel the God-damn rally!"

She sighed in resignation. "OK, that was part of it. But it was mostly because I didn't want you upset for no good reason!"

"Your safety is a God - damn good reason to tell me!" He exploded. He remembered he was in a hospital and struggled mightily to control his voice and temper. "Damn it, baby! It doesn't do me any good when you keep this shit from me! I can't keep my mind on business if I have to wonder whether you're telling me what I need to know or not!" Tig paced the floor beside the bed in agitation. 'Dammit! We shouldn't be fighting like this! Not when she's this messed up!'

Cat pointed to the chair beside the bed. "Alex, sit down before you stub your toe and break it or somethin'! No need for both of us to be laid up!"

He glared at her before taking the indicated seat. 'I'd rather be layin' there on the bed with ya, babe. Guess we're both a little too pissed for that right now.' His fingers went to the bridge of his nose.

Cat took a deep breath. This wasn't the reunion she'd expected. 'I knew he'd be upset, but I didn't expect this! We haven't even gotten to his hirin' Chucky without askin' me!' She moved over to the right side of the bed, letting her legs dangle over the side as she faced him.

'He's got new bruises on his face. His knuckles are all skinned up. Thank God he wasn't severely hurt.' She reached out with her right hand and took Alex's hand from his nose, holding it in hers. "Love, I'm sorry. I'm not deliberately keepin' shit from ya."

"What the fuck do you call it, then?" His voice shook with disappointment and hurt.

"Thinkin' of your best interests. As far as the procedures are concerned, I was afraid if you knew, your mind wouldn't be on business and you'd get hurt, maybe even killed tonight! By the time y'all were up to dealin' with the news about Weston and his crew, it was over and done with!"

Alex knew she wasn't bullshitting him, but was still hurt by her actions. 'Maybe the news was just my imagination, maybe it wasn't. I'm gonna play this card and see where it takes me!' Alex's blue eyes were full of reproach. "What about Weston appearing at the house the other night while I was tripping? Why didn't you tell me about that?"

'Shit! How'd he find out? Nobody else knew, not even the cops!' She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb while coming up with an answer. "Alex, how in the Hell would you get anything done if I called you every time someone looks at me crosseyed? If I really needed protection, don't you think I'd call you in a red – hot second?"

He shook his head. "When you pull shit like this, I have to wonder. Would you have told me Kozik was here if I didn't already know?"

"Once I knew you could deal with it and wouldn't cause you harm, yes. Kozik came here tryin' to make me leave you by tellin' history he thought I didn't know. He got an education instead."

Alex's scowl returned. "What'd he say to you?"

"He wanted to tell me his version of the I-5 incident. I let him vent, then told him I'd known all along about it, and that your story was supported by the police. That and finding my ancient ass when he expected a starry-eyed youngster took the wind out of his sails and he left."

"As easy as that?"

She nodded. "Frosty and GreyRider were both on hand, but only Frosty heard about the I-5 thing. GreyRider stayed just outside the door in shouting distance."

Alex began to relax, but he was still upset. 'I hate to do this, but I've gotta make her realize how serious this situation is and avoid a repeat.' His tone of voice grew cold and deliberate, much like the day he'd put her in her place after she'd questioned his treatment of the Prospect in front of the kid and her staff.

"Kozik tried to use his visit with you to rattle me before the fight. Not only did he give me an entirely different story, he chose the worst possible time to tell me! The least I deserved from you was a heads-up! You chose to stay silent. That fucked up thinking could've gotten me killed. That's not what I want or need from my woman."

Her unbandaged eye widened in shock and dismay. 'Jesus! It never occurred to me that Kozik would taunt Alex before the fight!' Her stomach lurched into her throat. 'Slick was right! Kozik didn't have the club's back! He just wanted to hurt Alex!' Despite her desire not to add to his emotional burden, she felt tears drift down her cheek from her unbandaged eye. "Damn it! This is no time to behave like a frackin' girl!"

'I think she's finally got it!' Alex sat on the bed next to her and took her in his arms. "It's a'right, baby," his voice was more gentle, now that he knew she understood his view. "You were trying to do the right thing." He stroked her hair in a comforting manner, grimacing at the feel of the guaze on her head. "Cat, you're smart enough to know what's bullshit and what's important. That's why I gave you the two-way. You've never abused it; I know you never will."

He shifted so that he was reclining next to her, and cradled her head against his chest. "All I'm askin' ya to do is trust me with intel. I'm not gonna turn into a raging caveman, or go off half-cocked for fuck's sake!"

"God, I hope not! Not that the idea of you wearin' nothin' but fur isn't a turn-on, and I can certainly attest that you never do anything half-cocked!" She took a deep, shuddering breath. "You're right, love. Full disclosure works both ways. I can't expect you to tell me stuff if I don't do likewise. I'm sorry."

He smiled as he stroked her hair. "I know." Before she could bristle at his cocky response, he hastily added, "I appreciate you havin' my back. From now on, let me worry about what I can and cannot handle."

She lay quiet for a moment, understanding that the storm was past them. Then a wry, yet amusing memory came to her and she started to laugh.

"What the Hell's so damn funny?"

"One of my biggest pet peeves about Bill was his tendency to keep stuff from me. He'd say shit like 'It didn't come up in the conversation,' or 'You didn't ask' to explain why he didn't tell me certain things. He did it because he was 'protecting' me. He didn't want me hearin' news that he thought would stress me out. I loved him for it, but it also drove me nuts!"

"Huh! So now it's your turn to drive me nuts as payback?" Alex asked wryly.

She nudged him in the side with her elbow.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! That thing is sharp! Go easy on a tired, fightin' man, would ya?"

"I meant to ask about that," she replied ruefully. "We kinda got sidetracked."

"Yeah, we did," he filled her in on the fight and how he'd not only kicked the driver in the balls, but taken a bite out of the man's nose.

"I'm supposed to be the vampire of the family! You tryin' to make a run on my title?"

"It's only the second time since we've met that I've bit someone. Gimme a break!"

She rolled her eyes to the heavens in supplication. "What about Zobelle?"

Alex told her what had transpired at the cigar store. "Hale took both of them in custody for having that brick of dope on the premises."

"Does that mean it's over?"

Alex shrugged. "I dunno, Cat. I don't think so. There's something about Zobelle's behavior tonight that bugs me. I think he's up to somethin'. I gotta go meet everyone at CPD in the morning. We'll see what's up then."

She snuggled against him. "Well, in the meantime, since you won't let me satisfy one of your appetites, I can satisfy another base need of yours. Take a look in the cooler, love."

He'd been ignoring the cooler and pastry bag, despite the hollow feeling in his stomach. He rolled the table forward and opened the cooler. His tired, bruised face brightened at the sight of the contents. "How did you manage this?"

"I asked Pete to bring it," she explained, smiling as he reached for the Charming Pawse pastry bag.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"Only one way to find out."

He removed his arm from around her to open the bag. He smiled broadly at the sight of the Snickers Bar Muffin. His stomach growled hungrily.

"Sounds like somone's runnin' on empty," Cat remarked with a grin.

"Mmmm," was all he could reply through a large mouthful of muffin, his eyes half-closed in ecstasy.

"Damn near better than sex."

"That was intended to be your dessert," she remarked ruefully. "I figured you'd be hungry when you got in." Cat shifted a bit so she could look directly at him. As soon as he swallowed, she added, "Much as I hate to stir the pot, we need to talk about this new employee you hired for the coffeehouse."

He shrugged. "Chucky needs a job and a place to stay. You were right; he was lyin' low out of fear he'd be blamed for the Caracara fire. Turns out he saw who did it. That's why Weston was arrested. I figured he could do the administrative stuff. Help keep your people free to handle the front."

"And he's gonna stay at the house?"

"Well, yeah. Air mattress is still set up in the library. The house will be safer with someone livin' in it."

"You're not goin' to stay there once the lockdown's over?"

He shook his head. "Not until you go home, baby. I'd rattle around in there and miss you too much." He munched the remainder of his muffin.

"Then I'd say you made a good decision, especially since LOAN has no idea of Chucky's affiliation with the club," she replied. "Protects the house and helps the business." She allowed a mock frown to cross her features and added, "But the next time y'all decide to hire a new employee for me, please check with me first."

"Excuse me?" He glared at her. 'She did not just say that!' He was surprised that she would make such a request right on the heels of their earlier discussion.

"I didn't stutter, Alex. This is my business we're talkin' about. I appreciate that you have the coffeehouse in mind. Havin' Chucky around will make it easier for them to get hold of y'all while I'm laid up. But you had my people worried."

Alex opened one of the beers while she spoke, taking a long, satisfied pull from it. "I don't see why," he replied with a yeasty belch. "I didn't say he was replacing anyone."

"Pete thought you were puttin' Chucky in to take over. I gave Pete instructions last night, knowin' he and Miss Anna were perfectly capable of handlin' things. I smoothed all the ruffled feathers this afternoon."

"Then I was right! There's no problem!" He took a large bite of his sandwich, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"There's no problem now," she replied, nudging her elbow in his side again. "There was earlier. Thank God all that's over with!"

He took another pull from his beer, eyeing the two vases on the dresser. "Your Dad send the blue things?"

"They're called 'bluebells'. To remind me of home. Which reminds me, I owe ya somethin' from him." She reached out and hugged him.

"Then I owe ya one back," he replied, suiting his actions to his words.

"Thank you for the rose, love. I know you don't make a habit of darkenin' the doors to flower shops. Why the black ribbon?"

"So you'd know it was from me."

"It worked. How'd you manage it?"

Alex felt confident that Frosty would handle the wedding rings for him, but something was still bothering him. 'Just what do married men do for their wives when they're sick or hurt? Candy? That shit makes her sick. A card?' He shivered with distaste, as cards seemed far too sentimental and tacky. 'Fuck! I don't know. McLaughlin wouldn't have any trouble, why is this so damn hard for me?'

The idea came to him as he passed a flower shop on Main Street. The shop had a sign in the window advertising that they delivered. A comment of Otto's that Cat had agreed with came to mind. "LuAnn always said 'Don't give me flowers when I'm dead and can't enjoy 'em!'"

Tig parked the bike a few yards down the street from the flower shop and walked back to it. He wanted to stay as far away from Impeccable Smokes as possible, which was located on the same block as the flower shop. He strode inside as if he were strolling into the clubhouse. The smell of flowers assailed his nose, but it wasn't cloying or overpowering. A bell tinkled merrily at his entrance.

The clerk at the counter looked up, then a cloud passed over her features at the sight of Tig Trager standing in the middle of the store. "M-may I help you?"

Tig walked up to the counter, placing his hands flat and leaning on them. He was nervous but wasn't going to let it show to the clerk. "One red rosebud, stripped of its' thorns. A vase to put it in, and a black ribbon wrapped around its' stem under the bud."

The clerk nodded. "I have the rose and the vase, I'll have to check on the ribbon. Does it have to be black?"

Tig glared over his sunglasses at the clerk.

"Give me a moment, let me look in the workroom in back." The clerk scurried to the back and shortly returned with two rolls of black ribbon. One was wide and velvet, the other narrow and had gold flecks in it. Tig pointed wordlessly at the wide ribbon.

The clerk then selected a simple cut-glass clear vase, and brought a perfect red rosebud to the counter. Under Tig's sunglass-hidden gaze, she stripped the thorns from the stem, made a bow of the black ribbon, and tied it directly under the bud, which she placed it in the vase. "How's that?"

Tig looked at the offering. 'It's missing something. Doesn't look right on its' own.' He stood silent, looking around the store for inspiration. Some red colored stones in a bag caught his eye. He walked over, selected a bag of those and of blue stones, and brought it back to the counter.

"Will these hurt the thing if you put 'em in the vase?"

"No, sir."

Tig nodded and dug out his wallet. "How much?"

The clerk rang up the order and gave him the total. He handed over an additional $20. The clerk gazed quizzically at him.

"I don't want word of this getting out," Tig growled.

"It won't. This is for Ms. Marshall, isn't it? You're her old man."

Tig glared over the rim of his sunglasses again. "And?"

The clerk slid the bill back to Trager. "I'm sorry she was hurt last night. What she did for this town took guts. This will go out today with the flowers her father ordered. Do you want a card to go with it?"

Tig shook his head. "She'll know," he replied, stuffing the bill back into his wallet. He turned and walked out the door to his bike. Once the door closed behind him, the clerk let out a large sigh of relief and placed the vase with the other orders due to be delivered that day.

"You didn't have to go through that for me, love!"

"Don't expect it often, woman. I'm still learning this married gig."

She nestled against his chest, too touched by his gesture to let him see how it affected her. She didn't want to upset him by 'actin' like a girl'. Her eye was misting over again from happiness. "Just so you know, your presence means more to me than your presents. I don't want y'all to feel like you've gotta make up for necessary absences with things."

Alex continued stroking her hair, but his thoughts were troubled. 'Then why did her first husband plague my dream the other night? Or was that my own guilty conscience yellin' at me and I imagined it was McLaughlin?'

Cat sensed his distress. "Bein' married ain't easy, love. There's no manual that tells you how things work. Comparin' how you treat me to the way someone else did is like comparin' oranges to road apples."

Alex didn't reply, he was too busy finishing his sandwich while his thoughts roamed. 'One fucking rosebud compared to having dinner brought here for me, picking up my clothes, and offering herself to me when she's hurt? It don't measure up!' He took another long pull from the beer.

'Maybe he's right about me. But I don't give a shit what he thinks!' He set the beer on the table and looked down at her head resting on his shoulder. 'She's not centerfold material, but I don't want that. She's rounded out in the right places.' Without realizing he was doing so, he added aloud, "What I don't understand is why she wants me when she's had better!"

"Because you're who I want. If I wanted a clone of Bill, I'd have tried to get one made of him before he was cremated!" she replied haughtily, albeit sleepily.

"Shit! I didn't mean for you to hear that!"

"Too late," she replied drolly. She winced as she adjusted her position.

"You hurtin'?"

"Nah. That damn tube is annoyin' the Hell out of me. It's the knowin' it's there that's aggravatin'." She nestled against him. "I see you're insistin' on compairin' yourself to Bill and findin' yourself comin' up short!"

"You read me like a book, don't you?"

"Sometimes. I really wish you'd stop doin' that, love. Have you ever heard me complain about my life with you?"

"No, but -"

"Then stop worryin' about it!" she interjected hotly.

He gestured at the cooler. "Kinda hard not to, baby, when you manage to do all this for me in your condition!"

She shook her head. "Puh-leeze! I didn't do anything but call someone and make a request!"

"But you took care of me," he persisted. "I should be takin' care of you! And you shouldn't be worryin' about my needs right now!"

Cat sighed in exasperation. "I'm havin' deja vu, here. I thought we thoroughly discussed this last night and reached an agreement! What's got you diggin' this topic back up like a dog diggin' up a favorite, well-gnawed bone?"

He took another pull from the beer, trying to find the words to describe his feelings. "Cat, why did you accept me as a part of your life?"

She didn't need her glasses to see that he was tormented. His feelings of inadequacy radiated like neon lights in the night.

"Ah, ferget it!" His voice rasped when she didn't offer an immediate response.

"Alex, love, this isn't the kind of question a body has a quick and ready answer to!" She took his hand in hers, holding it tight to assure him. "I chose you for a variety of reasons. I felt drawn to you the very first day you visited the coffeehouse. Something called to me. I felt a kindred soul in you."

Alex's only response was to take another pull from the beer bottle.

"I didn't know for sure what it was that was callin' me," she added, "until that day we went to the 'crik' and you told me about losin' your lady and unborn child. I knew then, if ever given the opportunity, I'd never let you feel so alone again."

Alex remained silent as his mind returned to that day, which was as fresh in his memory as if it had happened just a few hours ago.

The PT was parked off a gravel road that led to a small, secluded lake surrounded by trees. The Cruiser's hatchback was lifted towards the sky. The day was warm and sunny. Fluffy white clouds resembling balls of cotton dotted the sky.

It was a Sunday. They had driven the Cruiser far from the Nords and Mayan territories to one of her favorite places. They could fish and skinny-dip there. The water was clear, so that one could see the pebbles on the lake floor under the water.

"Y'know why I like this lake best of all?" They had fished and then taken a swim while their catch waited in the cool water on a string. The catch was cooking over a grill over an open fire and they were lying on the air mattress, watching the clouds roll by above them. Cat lay with her head on Alex's chest, listening to his even breathing, one finger drew idle circles over his heart.

"Why?" He had one hand behind his head, the other held a cigarette off to the side.

"It reminds me of the crik at my grandparents' farm in Harrison County. The water was clear like it is here. One could see the fish swim by before they got caught on the hook."

"What do ya mean by the 'crik'?"

"All y'all call 'em creeks, but back home, we called it the 'crik'. You've seen pictures of it!"

He nodded. "That's a creek? Looked like a lake to me."

"It was fed by a shallow crik that ran along the property. My cousins and I practically lived there during the summers."

Alex removed his hand from under his head, reached out, and caressed her face. "That must be why you're such a good outdoorswoman. Never seen a woman not get squeamish about spearing a worm on a hook before!"

"How many women have you gone fishin' with?" she countered.

"Not many. Most of 'em wouldn't even touch a worm, much less bait their own hook. Kinda refreshing not to have to bait yours."

"Or to have to clean and gut the catch!" She playfully nudged him in the side.

"What I really appreciate is that you can make a campfire and cook the catch. Nice to be waited on, like a hard working man should be!" He grinned wickedly.

She favored him with 'the look'. "Don't get too used to it, stud! Once we're back in Charming, it's back to normal. I've got a rep as a feminist to protect!"

Their relationship had grown in the weeks since it'd begun. One thing Alex had discovered was that he could tell Cat things he often couldn't share with Clay or Gemma. 'Somehow, I know what I tell her won't get back to anyone. I haven't felt that secure around a woman in a long time.'

Several weeks had passed since Cat's return from her mother's burial in Indiana. She had been quiet and a little sad for the first couple of days, then seemed her regular outgoing self.

Alex knew she was still feeling the hurt of the loss, though she wouldn't talk about it. 'It's like she said what she had to say in the car and locked it up.' He decided to tell her of his own great loss, in hopes it would enhance their connection. 'I know what kind of pain she's dealing with.'

His hand was stroking her hair. "You've not said straight out, but I know the thing with your Mom was rough on you."

She shrugged. He felt the slight movement against his side. "I'm OK, love. What I buried was a shell. I lost her years before."

"So you said. But it's hard to lose someone you love, no matter the circumstances," he replied softly.

Cat gazed up at his face, seeing a wealth of remembered pain and hurt in his eyes. "Wanna tell me about it?"

"Yeah."

She kept her head on his chest as he told her about the girl from Tacoma, his feelings for her at the time, and how she'd died, including his feelings of self-loathing once he'd learned from the coroner of her pregnancy.

"I lost my girl and my child through no fault of my own. That pain was worse than the broken leg I got from the wreck. I couldn't help her, couldn't reach her. It happened so fast, the other driver didn't have a chance to avoid hitting her!" His eyes clouded at the memory. "The coroner said it was quick, that she didn't suffer. That was when I found out she was about two months along. I really could've loved life with her and our kid."

He fell silent, working to keep his voice from shaking. He took a deep drag on his cigarette, grateful that Cat wasn't looking him in the face as he recalled the event. "Both her family and mine blamed me for her death. They said so on the day of her funeral. My best friend, a member of the Tacoma chapter named Kozik, turned on me, too. He accused me in front of everyone at the funeral of murdering her to get out of being a parent. No one believed it was an accident. I couldn't really blame 'em. I already blamed myself, should've had better control of the bike! What hurt the worst was finding out he knew about the baby before I did!"

Cat felt his chest muscles quiver under her hand and cheek and heard the regret and remorse in his voice from losing his girl, his child, his family, and his friend. She could sense his feeling of betrayal that the girl had told Kozik about the child first. It touched the deepest part of her that cared for him, but she didn't give voice to her thoughts. She wanted to give Alex the opportunity to purge himself of his painful memories.

"Something inside me died then. I understand now why she told him first, they grew up together; were close friends. I put up walls to keep from trustin' anyone and bein' hurt when they turned on me. I didn't want to feel any more pain. Clay and Gemma were already close friends, and I had the club. Anything more didn't seem possible."

Cat felt tears of empathy well in her eyes and stream quietly down her cheeks, collecting in a small pool on his chest. She didn't want him to see her tears; she feared that he might misunderstand their significance.

At first, Alex appreciated her silence over his disclosure, but he grew concerned as the silence continued. 'She's not said anything, that could be good or bad.' He stroked her back, taking comfort in the fact that she didn't shy away from his touch. 'Maybe she doesn't see it as an accident, and is puttin' on an act until we get outta here. Maybe she feels the same way Kozik did . . .What the fuck?'

A small pool of warm moisture had formed on his chest and run down his side, causing his mental cry of astonishment. He wiped at the moisture with his fingers and raised them to his eye. It was clear liquid, not blood. 'Damn! Did she fall asleep on me and start droolin'?'

The moisture didn't feel like saliva. He put his fingers under his nose and sniffed. 'Salt? Tears? She's crying?' He looked down at the salt and pepper hair under his hand. 'Shit! Is she crying for me?'

He shifted positions, bringing his hand under her chin so he could see her face. Her green eyes glistened and tears were indeed tracking down both cheeks. "Woman, why the Hell are you crying?"

She returned his stare with a defiant one. "Because of the unfairness of it all! You were as much a victim as your lady! How could anyone turn on you at a time like that? Fucktards!"

Trager didn't know how to respond. He was surprised, but pleasantly so. 'No woman's ever cried for me! I've made lots of 'em cry, but not like this! Holy shit!' He took refuge in gentle teasing. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Don't call my relatives fucktards!"

"Anybody who turns their back on you when you're hurtin' is a fucktard to me – even your own flesh and blood! So there!" she retoted hotly, tears still trickling down her cheeks.

'Damn! I know she cares, but - damn!' He cupped her face in both hands, brought his face close to hers and licked the tears from her cheeks, tasting their salt. He next placed a kiss on each eye before covering her mouth with his.

His arms encircled her so that he held her close to him, savoring all that she freely offered. They didn't have to discuss the matter; her tears of empathy told him more than any words she could speak.

"That was when I knew I wanted more from you than claimin' old lady priviledges."

"I never expected you would consider me 'old lady' material, much less someone you wanted to marry. As people keep remindin' me, most recently Kozik, I'm not thin, blond, young, and built," she confessed ruefully.

Alex glared at her, angry at the way she continued to put herself down based on other people's assessments of her. "I don't ever wanna hear you say that shit again! If that's what I wanted, any gash from Caracara would do! Sweetbutt is fine for fuckin', but not much else. I want a woman who has a heart and soul, who can give without expecting to gain from it! That's you!"

His voice was soft, but a fierce protectiveness ran underneath it. His hand held her chin while his thumb stroked her lips. "Thing is, baby, comin' so close to losin' you made me wonder if I'm such a good husband to you."

"I dunno who's been puttin' such ideas in y'all's head, but I think you're a damn good husband!" She shifted again so that she could face him, her back pushed the rolling table and his beer away from them.

"If you're thinkin' that our marriage isn't like my first one, you're right. It's not supposed to be!" She continued angrily. "You could've taken off and left me to chase after the truck. You stayed and washed the blood off my face. You were in the ambulance with me. It was your voice that calmed me in the car, and your presence I sensed and clung to. You were in that chair when I woke up, so don't you dare tell me you're not a good husband! You got dat?"

"You don't have to go all Victor Newman on me, woman!" He grinned at her, reaching past her for his beer.

She sighed contentedly. "You might as well know that Kozik is the reason my lung collasped." Before Alex could react, she quickly explained about the scuffle that ended with Frosty falling on her. "When the doctor heard about it, he said that had caused my lung to collaspe, though it might have happened anyway without the fracas."

"How soon after the scuffle did it happen?"

She shrugged. "It hurt and made me nauseous right away. I didn't get barf until GreyRider was escortin' Kozik out to the parking lot. He left believin' he failed in his quest to hurt you by drivin' me away."

Alex growled deep in his chest. "I shoulda knocked the smirk off his face when I had the chance tonight!"

Cat shook her head. "It's good that you didn't, love. There's too much bad blood between the two of ya. There's no need for more on my account."

"He hurt you, baby! He has to answer for that!" Tig growled angrily, then winced as he realized the implications of his comment. 'Shit!'

Cat chose not to draw attention to something that was best left buried in their recent past. "I realize that, love. Wouldn't it be better for the mother charter to handle it instead of the two of you breakin' into fisticuffs?"

"I hafta do somethin' to defend your honor!" Alex replied hotly.

"My honor, or yours?" Cat observed wryly. "Look at it this way, Alex. Which is gonna make more of an impression on Kozik, the two of you swappin' punches or havin' the club addess the matter?"

He stared at her as several reactions ran through him. He was angry that she had easily pegged his motives, but the anger quickly gave way to a appreciative, calculating grin. "Have I told you that you are one evil woman? I'm glad you're on my side!"

"We're on each other's side, love," she replied, yawning and settling her head against his shoulder. She was completely exhausted. Though the movie wasn't over, she drifted off to sleep.

Alex watched the last of the movie and finished his beer, putting the 'dead soldiers' back in the cooler for later disposal. He stretched luxuriously, a generous, bone-cracking stretch. The food, though simple, had filled the hole in his stomach. The beer had soothed him, and the love of his woman made him feel at peace.

'Shit! Damn beer! Gotta piss.' He slid his arm from under her head and padded to the bathroom. After taking care of business, he padded out to the hall to use his cellphone.

"Clay here."

"It's Tig. Where's Kozik?"

"Shit if I know. Around somewhere. I talked to Piney. He said Kozik told him he was goin' out to the coffeehouse. We know now where he really went."

"No shit, man." Tig briefed Clay on Kozik's activities while the club was in Galt. "She sent him packin' with his tail between his legs, but not before he did some collaterial damage."

"He hurt Cat?" Clay replied angrily.

"Not directly. Her DJ friend from LA, Frosty, was here. He and the charter guard, GreyRider, got into a scuffle with Kozik and he pushed Frosty into Cat. Her lung collasped. She's got a tube in her chest to reinflate it."

"Shit! Is it serious?" Clay's eyes closed in shared pain with his friend.

"Cat didn't seem to think so," Tig replied dryly. "I didn't know about it until I got here."

Clay winced. 'Man, I would've loved to have been a fly on the wall during that conversation!' He heard nothing but silence on the other end of the line. "What do ya wanna do about Kozik?"

"Bring it out in church. Seems better to let the mother charter deal with him than to trade punches. Not that a good fight didn't cross my mind!"

Clay grinned wryly. "That first part sounds more like Cat talkin'."

"You're right."

"Told ya she's smart. Kozik won't be with us in the mornin'. Dunno when we'll get time to deal with this matter in church, but we will deal with it. I promise."

"I know. First things first." Alex closed the pre-paid and padded back into the room. He stood just inside the door, watching Cat sleep for a bit. Then he padded back to the bed, eased back onto it, and switched off the television, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

"Everything OK at the club?" Cat asked sleepily.

"What makes you think I called the clubhouse?"

"You went out into the hall to use the pre-paid instead of usin' the room phone. You'd only do that if you were discussin' club business," she replied.

"Maybe I didn't wanna disturb your rest," he retorted. "Guess I didn't do a very good job. Sorry, baby."

"Nothin' for you to apologize for. I wake up whenever you leave the bed. It's an occupational hazard. I just wake up enough to make sure you're OK."

He turned onto his side and wrapped his other arm around her waist, being careful of the tube in her side. They were laying face to face, he was on top of the covers and she was beneath them.

"Is it OK for you to lay on your side?"

She nodded. "As long as it's not the side with the tube in it. You warm enough, love?"

"Yeah. Just don't like all this material between us," he growled.

"I offered earlier. You turned me down."

"For your own good. Once you're well enough, ain't gonna be any material comin' between us for awhile!"

"Is that a threat or a promise?" she yawned, snuggling against his chest.

"Both. Now shut up and go to sleep."

"Right back atcha, lover."

He listened to her steady, deep breathing. A few moments later, the rhythm of her breathing lulled him into blessedly dreamless slumber.

"Cat OK?" Gemma asked.

Clay sighed wearily, tucking his cell back into his jeans pocket. "Yeah. Kozik did more than pay her a visit while we were at Galt. He caused her another injury."

"What the Hell did he do?" Clay had just told her about the outcome of the fight, Kozik's antagnostic behavior towards Tig at Timberland, and the Zobelles' arrest.

"Just what Tig told me. Her DJ friend from LA and one of the charters were there when Kozik walked into her room. The guys went to subdue him, there was a scuffle, Kozik pushed her friend into her and her lung collasped. She's got a tube in her side now."

Gemma closed her eyes for a moment. "Poor kid! How's Tig handling it?"

"He's upset. He didn't find out until he got back tonight. You been givin' her lessons in keepin' secrets?"

Gemma smiled dryly. "Not hardly. We just happen to have a lot in common. So does this mean he's gonna thrash Kozik?"

Clay shook his head. "He's gonna ask us and the Tacoma charter to handle it. I suspect Cat's behind that idea. Makes more sense than Tig beating the shit out of Kozik."

"She's havin' a good influence on our boy," she noted approvingly.

"We'd better get some sleep, baby," Clay replied, stifling a weary yawn. "Dawn's gonna be here before we know it. Sure I can't talk you out of goin' to CPD? You'll just be bored waiting around."

Gemma shook her head. "We women have already discussed it. We're going in Tara's car. We want to be with you. If we're bored, at least we'll be bored together."

"OK," Clay decided it was best to accept the inevitable. When Gemma got a bee in her bonnet, there was no stopping her. At least the other two 'old ladies', Tara and Lyla, would be present to keep her company.

"Don't let me forget to tell Kozik he's not welcome to come with us. I don't trust him any more than I can throw him right now."

Gemma nodded. "Maybe he should be persuaded to go back to Tacoma tonight, save you the hassle in the morning."

Clay smiled in appreciation. "That's one of the things I love about you. You're always looking out for me." He stood up and slipped his cut over his shoulders. "I'll be back."

Clay walked out into the main area of the clubhouse, gazing upon the men, women, and children getting settled for the night. 'These people trust me to keep them safe. How can I do that when I can't even keep a charter member from hurtin' my best friend's wife!" He located Piney and spoke in low tones to the man for a few moments. Satisfied with Piney's answers, he then found the SAMPOR president and walked over to him.

"What's up, Clay?"

"Is your man GreyRider here?"

Stone Coyote looked around and found his man standing next to the pool table, waiting his turn to play. "That's him over there."

"Can you and him meet me in the chapel?"

"Sure, Clay." Stone Coyote eyes were full of questions. Clay laid a hand on the Portland officer's shoulder and stepped away, not willing to explain things until he had all the necessary people together.

Clay walked to the SAMTAC president, who was getting friendly with one of the Caracara actresses. Kozik was stretched out on a nearby chair sound asleep.

"Hate to break up your great romance; I need you in the chapel," Clay's voice was cold as granite. "Now."

Tacoma's president walked into the chapel and stopped short to see the SAMPOR president and a rider already sitting at the table. He closed the door behind him and sat down in Tig's chair. "What the Hell's so damn important to pull me in here, Clay? Does this have to do with sending Kozik back under escort from Timberland?"

Clay lit his cigar, taking his time to answer. After taking a long, steadying puff and exhaling the smoke, he replied dryly, "Yes it does. Kozik proved tonight he can not be trusted."

The president's eyes narrowed. "That's a pretty strong accusation to make of a brother and my Sergeant at Arms, Clay."

Clay detailed everything he'd learned from Piney and Tig, including Kozik's confrontation with Tig before the fight. "All that on it's own is bad enough, but Kozik caused injury to Tig's old lady today at the hospital. The Portland riders have been guarding her. GreyRider was present when it happened."

'So that's why Clay called me in here," GreyRider mused. 'Sounds like Cat finally told Tig what happened and he's makin' the fur fly!'

The SAMTAC President turned his eyes to GreyRider. "So what happened?"

"Lady Cat had a civilian friend visiting, a DJ from LA. Tig had cleared him. I had to piss, and was in the bathroom. I heard Lady Cat talking, thought maybe Frosty was awake. She warned me there was a visiting brother present," GreyRider then detailed the scuffle that ended with Kozik pushing the DJ so that he landed on Tig's old lady. "She seemed OK at the time, but when I returned to her room after making sure Kozik left, Frosty was waiting outside and told me she'd gotten sick and the doctor was with her. When he came out, he said her lung had collasped."

Clay turned his steely glare on the SAMTAC President. "Is that proof enough for ya?"

"Honest to God, Clay, I had no idea that Kozik had ulterior motives in mind when we rode here!"

"I know that, man. We're still good. That personal bullshit between Tig and Kozik's been goin' on for years. We can't afford for it to blow up on us now. I need people to keep their head straight. Kozik's can't."

"And Tig is any better? With his old lady in the hospital?"

"At least Tig didn't lie about where he went and risked his brothers' lives before a fight!" Clay retorted. "Tig can keep his mind on business. I can't trust Kozik to be anywhere around Tig, and that means Kozik needs to go. Tonight. I felt it fair to tell you first."

The two officers faced each other, both glaring angrily. Then the Tacoma president's shoulders slumped and he nodded in agreement. "You want me to tell him?"

"No. I just wanted you to know up front. I'll tell him." Clay stood up, walked to the door and across the clubhouse to where Kozik was stretched out in a chair with his eyes closed. "Kozik!" He kicked the rider's foot with his own. "Chapel! Now!"

Kozik opened one eye and glared blearily at Clay. "Can't this shit wait until morning?"

"Get up! Now."

Clay stood with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting silently for Kozik to comply. Kozik stared at the Redwood President for a few moments, then shrugged his shoulders. 'Guess he wants to roar and holler now. Might as well get it over with so I can go back to sleep.'

Kozik got up, stretched, and sauntered into the chapel. He was momentarily caught off guard to see his own President sitting there along with the SAMPOR one. He wasn't too pleased to see GreyRider, either. Kozik nodded at his President and took the seat next to him. "What's so fuckin' important that it couldn't wait 'til morning?" Kozik snarled.

"Shut up! I've about had enough out of you!" Clay roared, storming to his seat. He nodded at GreyRider and Stone Coyote, indicating with a jerk of his head that their presence was no longer required. When the door closed behind them, he added, "What you pulled today was unforgivable! You harmed a woman. Worse, you harmed the old lady of a mother charter member."

"I didn't touch the old hag!"

Clay grabbed Kozik by the shirt front, hauling him up so that they were nose to nose. "Her name is Cat. She may be older than the sweetbutt you fuck. She's family, and you will speak of her with respect! I should let Tig beat the shit out of you, he's not willing to waste the energy. Both clubs will deal with your behavior once all this shit is behind us. For now, you are persona non grata. You need to leave."

"Now? It's late! I'm tired!"

"Tough shit! Get the Hell out of my sight!" Clay pushed Kozik back into his chair, which almost toppled backward to the floor. "I'll give you two a couple of minutes," he added tersely before turning and leaving the chapel.

Piney had witnessed Clay order Kozik into the chapel, and judged from Clay's expression that Kozik was being handed his eviction papers. He moved near the chapel to lend a hand if needed.

As Clay stomped out of the chapel, Piney reached out a massive paw to grab him by the arm. "You want help sending that asshole on his way?"

Clay nodded. "Thanks, old man. Appreciate it. They'll be out in a minute."

Inside the chapel, Kozik and his President were talking. The President was not happy. "If I'd known you were gonna pull this shit, I wouldn't have let you come! What the fuck were you thinkin'?" He held up his hand and continued, "Never mind. Don't answer that. Just get the Hell out of here. I'm gonna have to do some serious damage control now, thanks to you."

The Tacoma President stalked from the chapel, leaving Kozik sitting in shock. Piney strode into the chapel and stood over Kozik. "Time to leave, Kozik." He grabbed Kozik by the collar and frog-marched him from the clubhouse to his Harley. Piney stood watching impassively until the man had strapped on his helmet and started his bike.

One rider backed the Chrysler away from the gate while other guards held it open for Kozik. The Harley growled as if reflecting its' owner's own anger at being summarily dismissed. Once Kozik's bike was past the gate, the guards drew it closed and the Chrysler returned to its' place.

Piney walked up to Clay and laid a beefy hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing. C'mon inside and get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be another long day."

It seemed to Alex as if he'd slept only a few minutes when Stone Coyote entered the room and woke him. Dawn was breaking in Charming. It was time for Tig to leave to meet the club at CPD.

"Heard Puddy Cat had a couple of set-backs yesterday," the Portland leader added, once he was assured Tig was awake.

"Yeah. She seems to be doin' better. Did Slick relay my message?"

Stone Coyote grinned. "Oh, yeah! No worries, Tig. No matter what, you'll get your updates, every hour."

Tig nodded and strode into the bathroom. After attending to personal business, he pulled on his footwear, then returned to Cat's bedside to reattach his knife holster to his belt. He slid into his cut, looking down at his sleeping wife.

"You can quit playin' possum," he growled. "I know you woke up as soon as I left your side."

"Good mornin' to you, too, sunshine!" she retorted with a small smile. "Ready to go to CPD?"

"Yeah. Figure we'll know what's gonna happen with the Zobelles and Weston before long."

"So you'll be out of touch much of the day," she replied.

"And that means I'd better get the hourly updates! No excuses!" he growled warningly. He leaned over her, oblivious to Stone Coyote's presence and kissed her meaningfully. "If you haven't gotten around to it, better start thinkin' about puttin' in the claim to replace the PT. It's totaled, and you're not riding your bike home from here."

She nodded, still smiling at him. "I'll see ya when I see ya, love."

He turned and walked out the door, nodding at Stone Coyote as he left.

Tig rode out to CPD, his thoughts swirling angrily over Kozik's causing harm to Cat. 'She's right. Having the club deal with it will mean more to him than my beating the shit out of him. But I still wanna beat the shit out of him!'

He was the first to arrive. 'Shit! Where the fuck is everyone?' He parked his Dyna on the street and walked up the steps. He was still tired. He'd slept well, but was still running on a deficit from the night of the wreck.

There were two concrete benches in front of the entrance to CPD. Both were in some shadow. He sat on the one closer to the parking lot to wait for the club. 'Fuck it. They can wake me when they get here.' He stretched out on the concrete slab, put his sunglasses on, and was soon sound asleep.

Tig was so tired that he didn't hear the thunder of Harley engines approach a few minutes later. The Redwood club members parked their bikes on the street next to Tig's. Tara pulled into the parking lot and parked her Olds. Gemma and Lyla piled out with her, and they walked to the entrance to join their men.

Gemma sat on the concrete bench next to the brick wall of CPD, Clay stood watch next to her. Tig was still stretched out on the other bench, snoring. No one wanted to disturb his rest so the others could sit down. Tara, Lyla, and the remainder found places to perch on the steps and the steel railings. They waited wordlessly for news from Unser and continued waiting while CPD officers came and went on their assigned rounds.

Agent Stahl and several Feds walked wordlessly past the assembled group into CPD headquarters. Though the Sons expected her to be gloating at the knowledge that her quarry had been captured, they were surprised to see an intense frown on her face. The Feds following in her wake looked just as unhappy.

Kozik pulled over to the side of the road once he was past the Charming city limits. He was angry over his dismissal from the Redwood clubhouse. 'I expected some fall out from taunting Tiggy before the fight. Banishment was not one of the punishments he'd anticipated.

'Since when does an old lady take precedence over a member? I refuse to ride back to Tacoma with my tail between my legs! I'll hole up in Oakland for awhile and bide my time. Wait and see what happens with LOAN. Redwood will need help and come crawlin' back to me!'

His ruffled feathers soothed, Kozik started his bike again and roared off towards Oakland.