A/N: I can't believe this story got sixty five views within its first hour of being on FanFiction! Don't forget flashbacks and thoughts will be in italics.

Chapter 2: Dishonesty

The closer Juice got to the tow truck, the more nervous he got. He needed to compose himself, and working out the limp was proving to be more of a challenge than he had anticipated.

He heard a loud whistle close by. "Juice? Juicey boy?" Chibs called.

He worked out the major kinks in his leg and stepped onto the road, revealing himself. "Hey." Chibs said, a look of relief coming across his face.

"Hey." Juice replied, casually sticking his hands in his pockets.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tig asked. Juice didn't even know the Sergeant-at-Arms was here until he spoke.

"I was pissin'." Juice replied, hoping he didn't respond too quickly. Pissing seemed to be his go-to excuse lately. Chibs came forward and Juice had to use everything in him to not freeze suspiciously.

"What's all this shite? Ye spill?" he asked, wiping Juice's hoodie clean. He then hooked an arm around Juice's sore neck. Juice wanted to squirm away as the stronger man's arm painfully squeezed the fresh bruise. Chibs must've noticed him flinch, because he moved his hand away.

"What's that?" he asked.

Juice wasn't surprised how fast the lie started to spew from his lips. "They got those stupid security chains all over these back roads." he said, relieved when Chibs looked away as Tig busted out laughing.

"You clotheslined one? Jackass." Tig mumbled between laughs.

Juice chuckled along and nodded. "Yeah."

"We gotta go." Chibs said as he started to head to his bike.

"What's up?" Juice asked.

"Vote." Chibs answered, straddling the bike.

"Drugs?" Juice asked.

"Change of leadership." Tig said, also straddling his bike. As the engines roared to life, Juice headed to the tow truck and glanced back the way he had come. The chain was going to have to wait. Tig and Chibs left, followed by Juice in the tow truck.

When they got to TM, Juice had to tell the rest of the club the same security chain lie as they asked about the obvious bruise. The upcoming vote had to be postponed until Piney showed up, which wasn't until the next morning. Juice barely slept at all that night, mind constantly wandering to the attempted suicide, and whether he would be able to clear away the evidence before someone found it…

When Piney arrived in the morning, and all SAMCRO members were present and accounted for, the vote for presidency began. Clay and Tig both voted 'nay', but before Chibs could vote, the window behind clay shattered as bullets flew into the chapel. As everyone bolted for cover, Happy handed out some guns from a hidden rack.

More walls and windows were shot up and the club went outside, all firing at a fleeing truck. Juice heard Clay mumble about the cops, and Tig and Happy secured a wounded shooter.

"Check his ink." Clay ordered. Happy quickly confirmed the shooter was Lobos Sonora, the rival cartel of Galindo.

"Clay?" Chucky called, opening a bag near the wounded LS member. "This is bad. Like, bad bad." he said, looking up at the president with a look of fear and worry. Juice followed as Clay, Jax, and Piney approached the open bag, seeing a couple of severed heads inside.

"Holy shit." Juice said, staring in shock.

"That's Armando." Piney said.

'Oh no. SAMTAZ?' he thought, worried.

"So what's going on?" Juice asked, entering the Sheriff's office. He was brought in on a bogus possession charge, and was itching to set things right. After all, he had a card for the weed and owned twenty percent of the damn clinic!

"Hey, I just want to have a conversation, that's all." the sheriff said, closing the door.

"You can do that with my lawyer." he said.

"Oh, we don't need your lawyer. I don't give a shit about the weed." the sheriff clarified, chuckling. "Please sit down." he added.

Juice sat down and sighed heavily, crossing his arms.

"So why'd you pick me up?" he asked, now knowing it wasn't about the weed.

The sheriff picked up a framed picture and held it in front of Juice's face. "This is me, and my father fishing at Rockaway Beach." he said, smiling. "Now, you grew up in Queens, right?"

Juice was startled out of his memory and faced with an annoyed-looking Chibs.

"You're with me." he said, getting in a van. Juice followed, not sure what he had missed during his little daydream. As he got in the van, he saw Happy in the driver seat and Chibs in the back seat, facing the LS shooter in the bed of the van.

They soon arrived at the gun warehouse, where Alvarez and Rafi were waiting, probably informed about the situation by Clay. Happy led the shooter inside the warehouse, pushing him around like the piece of shit that he was. Juice looked away to where Miles' grave, and his suicide evidence was, wishing the branch didn't break.

Once Hap's torture chamber was complete, the tribulation began. Hours of screaming, groaning, slicing, beating, and prodding passed before the rest of SAMCRO arrived, wanting some insight on the shooter's motive.

"He hasn't said a word." Happy said.

"You sure you didn't cut out his tongue?" Jax quipped.

Juice smiled, knowing the creative mind of Happy Lowman could very well have dawned on that idea.

"Not yet. Running out of ideas." Hap replied.

"Galindo." Rafi alerted, opening the door as another van pulled in.

'Clay must've called them, too.' Juice thought as a handful of the cartel entered the warehouse. One of them, Luis, held a briefcase. He waved Happy aside and opened said briefcase, revealing an impressive array of torture weapons, and a syringe of a substance he called 'truth serum'.

SAMCRO was effectively banished from the warehouse while the cartel interrogated the shooter their way. When the shooter's body was dragged around back, Luis revealed what the shooter disclosed: the Mayans had a mole reporting to the Lobos Sonora.