Disclaimer – The characters of this fanfiction, as well as the 'Sons of Anarchy' world belong to Kurt Sutter, with the exception of 'Boo' Morrow, who is an original character created by me. I make no profit from this work.
Again thank you for so many wonderful reviews! Keep it up! It really means a lot to me! Some of you have kinda seen what's to come, but there are still plenty of twists to come! Also I will be adding more Boo/Tig one shots at some point, since many of you would like more, I just have to get past a certain point in this story or little bits will be given away!
And yes, Chibs and Boo will hook up in a few chapters.
Lunchtime at Teller-Morrow automotives often meant 'let's tease the prospect time'. Today was no different. Just before breaking for lunch Piney got frustrated with the mess that the spanners were in and asked Juice to sort them out for him. Before Juice had even got anywhere near them, Tig had grabbed the box and dumped all the spanners on the garage forecourt, then grabbed the hose. The rest of the mechanics sat, watched and laughed as every time Juice bend down to grab a spanner, Tig sprayed him up the ass with water. As a result he was moving rather reluctantly and slowly.
"Come on prospect you can go faster than that!" Tig chuckled, catching Juice in the ass again. The Puerto Rican prospect scowled, but nonetheless continued darting around the forecourt picking up the dropped tools, earning himself a very wet ass. He would have looked as though he'd pissed himself had Tig not sprayed him so many times. Now his jeans hung wet and heavy, soaked completely through.
"Come on guys, stop it!" he groaned eventually, throwing down the tool box before he was even half done. The others howled with laughter at the sight of him standing there, pouting miserably, his soaked jeans falling down, revealing the top of his ass. Tig responded to his protests by spraying him in the face instead. Juice's pout turned into a full on scowl as he closed his eyes and wiped his face with his hands. Tig sprayed him again. As he wiped at his face again, Chibs motioned for Tig to put down the hose, he did knowing that Chibs had something planned. Juice didn't notice, assumed that Tig was finally going to let him continue, so turned and started gathering up the spanners once again. Chibs waited for the opportune moment and then jumped down of the picnic bench before rushing over to Juice and grabbing his hips as he bent down.
"Oh Juicy boy, just like that!" he growled trusting his hips so that he ground up against Juice in a very sexual way. Juice went almost purple, which only had the guys laughing even harder. "Yeh know yeh love it prospect." Chibs chuckled, patting Juice on the shoulder as he clutched as his stomach, his form bent double with laughter, tears of mirth tumbling down from under his sunglasses.
"That wasn't funny." He scowled, moving out of the Scotsman's reach. It was times like this that he really questioned whether or not he was doing the right thing by prospecting for SAMCRO. He could deal with the guns, the wars and the violence but this? This was irritating, humiliating – and he was only 2 weeks into his prospecting year! He knew it was bound to get worse.
"Oh I beg to differ." Bobby laughed as Clay rolled into the lot. No one looked at him, missing as a result the look of pure rage that was on his face. He didn't even back the bike into his usual space, he simply pulled up in front of the bench the guys were gathered on and jumped off, before storming towards them, throwing his helmet to the ground as he went. It bounced and rolled back towards his bike. "This is entertainment at its be-" Bobby soon shut his mouth when Clay walked into his line of sight. Everyone did, the laughter stopping dead all at once. His face red, his eyes bulged and ablaze, Clay looked ready to kill. No one knew what was going on, so sat still and silent, waiting for the President to speak.
"Church. Now." He snarled, eyes focussing on Tig. Everyone in the club moved, clambered down off the picnic bench or off the chairs they were sitting in. "No." Clay said, holding his hand up to stop them, eyes never once leaving Tig. "Just him." Everyone sat back down, leaving Tig and Clay standing alone in the forecourt, staring across at one another. Clay stood the picture of menace, his furious glare still on Tig, while The Sergeant At Arms looked rather bewildered, eyebrow cocked, arms folded defensively in front of him. Inside however, he knew that something was very, very wrong. Finally, after staring one another out for the longest moment, Tig nodded once and followed behind Clay into the clubhouse, both in silence. The rest of the club just watched them go in shock, not one of them understanding what was going on.
"What the hell?" Bobby muttered to no one in particular, motioning for Chibs to follow. The Scotsman was the best person to have on hand should anything kick of between Tig and Clay, he was strong and able bodied, fearless with enough of a sense of authority to make Tig and Clay listen. Chibs nodded and swiftly followed.
"Clay? What'd I do man?" Tig called after the President after he threw open the front door of the clubhouse before marching in without a backward glance. The President said nothing, just continued to stomp his way to the church doors. Knowing that something really wasn't right, Tig stopped in the doorway, unsure momentarily if he wanted to follow – at least not without some kind of idea as to what was going on – he's never seen Clay like this before, so enraged, not ever. "Clay?" he called again. Clay stopped this time, spun round to glare at The Sergeant at Arms. He looked angrier still for Tig having dared to question him.
"I said NOW!" he raged, shaking finger thrust in the direction of the church doors.
All the noise and commotion attracted the attention of Boo, who had been in the kitchenette making herself a sandwich. Normally she would have been outside with the others, but she wasn't in the mood to make fun of Juice. She actually rather like the guy, his closeness to her own age making him easy to bond with and she felt cruel joining in with the others taunts. She wandered down the hall and immediately felt sick to her stomach at the sight before her. Clay and Tig facing one another, her father looking as though he was ready to explode with rage – his entire form shaking the rage was so bad – and Tig glaring back near emotionlessly, clearly unsure of what was going on yet obviously prepared to face anything all the same.
"Clay what's going on?" she demanded, looking between the two men her face a mixture of horror and confusion. She knew things were bad when Tig didn't even turn to look at her, his eyes fixated on the President, something akin to fear deep within them, yet on the surface they were cold and fierce, his facial expression not betraying any emotion's he might feel. Clay on the other hand spun round to face her, his eyes were near grey they were so clouded with rage and they burned straight though her, causing her to wince involuntarily. He terrified her.
"You! You are fired! Go home, get out of my sight. You are never to see him again you understand me?" He said venomously, turning round again before the words were even out of his mouth, not wasting any more time on her that he had too, not bothering to wait for an answer. With one final look at Tig and a jerk of his head, Clay disappeared into church, slamming the door behind him so hard the entire wall shook.
"Tig what's going on?" Boo demanded as soon as Clay was gone. Her stomach had dropped at Clay's words, her entire world falling with it. Something was hideously wrong and whatever it was had something to with her and Tig. Why else would Clay have fired her? Why else would he be demanding only Tig's presence in church? Telling her that she could never see Tig again? Boo wondered if Clay had found out about the two nights she had spent in Tig's bed. She'd made sure to sneak out when Clay was in the shower, and was certain she'd left no evidence to suggest she'd even been in there behind, but still, she suspected he knew. And if he knew, he probably suspected it was more than twice, suspected that she and Tig were fucking... If he thought that, he was going to kill Tig. Boo suddenly felt the urge to be sick, her empty stomach heaved painfully, her hand went straight to her mouth, the other curved round her middle in an attempt to curb the pain and tears staining her pale cheeks...
Tig on the other hand knew at once what was going on in Clays head when he fired Boo and told her never to see him again. It wasn't that he suspected Tig off fucking her – if he thought that he would have beaten the crap out of Tig in front of the rest of the club, making an example of him and letting the whole club know what he'd been up to with a minor all in one go. And he would have made Boo watch, to make her learn her lesson, to instil her with some sort of fear that would forever have her knowing that nothing happened in her life without him knowing about it and that if he didn't like it, he'd soon put a stop to it– it was that he knew, had finally realised, that Tig had taken his place in Boo's life, that Tig was acting like her father. Bringing that up in front of the other Sons and the employees' of Teller-Morrow – by default admitting to his failings as a parent, as a father – would wound his over inflated ego far too much. This was a private matter that would never be spoken about openly amongst the club, despite the fact they all would know exactly what had gone on behind the church doors. And why.
"I don't know kid... but I think you should get out of here." He said, marching into church without another look at Boo. He couldn't chance it. He knew her face was streaked with tears, knew that she'd be scared and confused but also knew that if he comforted her – as he'd do so automatically if he saw how distressed she was - he'd only enrage Clay even more so. It killed him to do it, to walk past her distressed as she was, without even looking at her, killed him even more so knowing how much more upset it would make her, but it had to be done. If he wanted to live anyway.
"What?" Boo demanded, reaching out to grab Tig as he walked by, shocked and hurt by the fact that he wouldn't even look at her. Tig shrugged her off and pushed open the club doors, closing them again without so much as a glance in her direction. Boo followed after him, but the church doors slammed in her face, followed swiftly by the sound of them locking. "Tig?" It was a whisper, one the mechanic probably wouldn't have even heard had he been standing next to her. It was all Boo could manage in that moment; her throat was so tight with fear, hurt, clogged near completely with the anguish and confusion she felt. And that was before the yelling started, the sound of a sickening thud that Boo knew to be an almighty punch to the jaw.
Chibs had followed Tig and Clay with every intention of stepping between them should he have too, but he realised at once that getting Boo out of the clubhouse was the most important thing. The poor girl was standing outside the church doors at a loss, shaking with the intensity of her sobs, cheeks damp with tears, and eyes ringed red. It was obvious, from Clay's firing off her, his telling her that she was never to see the mechanic again, Tig's refusal to look at her and the girl's complete and total devastation that the shit going down between Clay and Tig was something to do with her. Whatever it was that was going on between her and Tig –whether they were fucking or whatever - had been found out by Clay and it was obvious that the President wanted some kind of violent, bloody justice served by his own hands. Boo shouldn't be around to see – or rather hear – that. Besides, the church doors had been locked – there was no way Chibs could step in and stop whatever was to happen between Tig and Clay and in truth, the Scotsman believed they needed it. Believed they needed to fight it out so they could get it out of their systems and move on. It was the way of the club, the way they dealt with their shit. All he could do now was get the kid out of the way, wait and hope that his skills as a medic would be enough to patch up the two older men when their brawl ended.
"Come on lassie, yeh better get outta here." He said, putting an arm around the brunettes shoulder. He tried to steer her towards the door, but she was having none of it. The contact seemed to snap Boo back to reality, for she shrugged off his arm at once and grabbed hold of the church door handle, rattled it hard in a vain attempt to open it as the muffled yells and thuds from the other side intensified. Chibs simply grabbed her round the waist and hoisted her off the floor.
"No!" Boo shrieked, kicking her legs and thrashing about in a vain attempt to get Chibs to drop her. It was hopeless however, the Scotsman was far too strong, he just shifted her so that she was over his shoulder, pinned her legs down as he marched her out of the clubhouse. Had he done such a thing at any other time, Boo probably would have been red as anything, mumbling inaudibly, all the while shuddering madly at the contact, at the fact that one of his hands was riding high up her thigh, nearly on her ass... Now however, all she felt was anger! How dare he just pick her up and cart her away! How dare he, when this was about her! She needed to get in there, not away from there so she could put a stop to whatever was happening! "Chibs put me down; I have to go in there!" she screamed, thumbing him on the back with her balled up fists. He didn't even seem to notice.
"I don't think that's a good idea Boo, things are gonna get nasty in there." He said firmly, pushing the clubhouse door open with his shoulder. Outside everyone else had returned to work, or at least had returned to their work stations to make it look as though they had. In reality they were all stood about staring at the clubhouse door, waiting to see or hear what was going on inside. Chibs ignored them and carted Boo towards the club van.
"Chibs! No!" Boo protested as the Scot dumped her in the passenger seat and buckled her in, glad to have her off his shoulder. The girl could pack a powerful punch when she wanted too – he could already feel bruises forming on his back. Boo tried to take the seatbelt off, but Chibs grabbed her hands preventing her from doing so. "This is about me isn't it? About me and Tig and how close we are?" she demanded fiercely.
"I don't know, Clay didn't explain himself." Chibs shrugged. Not totally a lie, after all Clay hadn't said a word to explain why he wanted Tig alone in church, why he was so angry with him, but it was obvious that it all came down to whatever the hell it was that was going on between Boo and Tig.
"It is I could hear them! Now let me go you Scottish haggis eating Bastard! I have to go and stop them before they kill each other..." Boo insisted, trying to jerk her hands free. Chibs scowled, annoyed at her insult (he didn't even like haggis!), he really wished that she'd just shut up and give in because she was making him feel like the bad guy when all he was trying to do was protect her! Spotting the prospect returning to the garage, Chibs whistled.
"Prospect!" he yelled, jerking his head, indicating that the kid come over to him. Looking both eager and worried, Juice jogged over to the van and shot Chibs a questioning look. "Take her home." He said, jerking his head towards Boo. He didn't want to let her hands go, knew that if he did she'd attempt to run off back to the clubhouse. The teen scowled as Juice nodded and darted round to the driver's side door.
"Juice don't you listen to him!" she whined at him as he climbed in the van. "I have to stop them!" she insisted, Juice frowned sympathetically at her – if he had his way, she'd be able to stay. He saw no reason for her to have to leave – and shook his head.
"Sorry Boo, if I want my top rocker, I've gotta listen to him..." he sighed, fumbling on his key ring for the right key. It was only then, with Juice safely in the van, door shut, that Chibs let Boo go. He slammed the door shut and held it in place until Juice started up the van and drove away.
SAMCRO
"Clay what the hell is wrong?" Tig demanded as he locked the church doors behind him – knowing full well that Boo was likely to follow him inside if he didn't – deciding it was best to play things down a little and act as though he had no idea what was going on. Partly to give him time to think, to work out what he could say to Clay to calm him down, and partly because he wanted to hear Clay come out with it. To get him to admit that because he was failing as a father, Tig had had to step in and take over. Clay didn't say anything, he just punched Tig on the jaw, so hard and fast that Tig had no time to prepare for the harsh impact. "Holy shit, what the hell was that for?" he demanded, spitting blood, ears ringing.
"You think that you can take my place huh?" Clay snarled, face right up against Tig's, head tilted to the side, bulging eyes clouded grey with rage. He shoved the Sergeant at Arms into the wall, stepped forward so that his face was right up against his again. "You think you can just push me aside and be my kid's father?" he asked, pushing Tig again, slamming him against the wall so hard his head cracked against the wooden panelling. Tig brought his fingers to the back of his head, which was slick with blood, while holding up his other hand at the same time in an attempt to get Clay to back off. If he didn't try and explain himself now Clay would likely put his head through the wall.
"Whoa, Clay let me ex-" he began, only to have Clay slam his fist into his jaw once again. Tig spat blood again; the warm liquid dripped down his chin and onto his work shirt. It took all of his inner strength not to punch Clay back.
"You have your own goddamn kids! Leave my kid alone and go and fucking father your own!" Clay barked, clenching his fist a few time's as the ache of his arthritis set in. He knew that punching Tig as hard as he was wasn't good for his hands at all, would have them stiff and sore for days, but he didn't care. All he cared about was punching the Sergeant at Arms until all his rage was gone and he felt as though justice had been done.
"I can't do that Clay, you know I can't!" Tig said, eyes narrowing, spitting again as his mouth rapidly filled with blood. Clay had hit a raw nerve bringing up his girls, a very raw nerve. He pushed Clay away from him causing the President to stumble into Chibs chair. "Two supervised days a year, that's all I get!" he said, advancing on Clay and pushing him again as he regained his balance. The President collided with the chair again, his fingers bending back painfully and awkwardly as he threw his hand out to break his fall. The pain was unbearable, stiffened his hand up even more so and sent a fresh bout of rage straight through him. Ignoring the pain, Clay clenched his fist and punched Tig again, this time square in the nose causing blood to spray everywhere, causing Tig to stumble to the floor.
"And whose fault is that huh?" he demanded, standing menacingly above Tig, glaring down at him as though he were the scum of the earth, a piece of filth encrusted on his shoe that he'd like nothing better than to remove.
"It's mine! Don't you think I know that?" Tig growled, chocking on the stream of blood that filled his mouth. He turned to the side and spat once again, before hauling himself to his feet, hand holding his swaying head in an attempt to stop the world from spinning. "Don't you think it eats me up inside?" he asked the finest hint of despair coming through in his voice, looking Clay square in the eye. It killed Tig that he couldn't see his girls, that he couldn't be a father too them, even more so because it was his own damn fault. Because he was a violent criminal in an outlaw motorcycle club. Because his ex had rambled on to the courts about how psychotic and wild he was. "I can't be there for my girls but I can sure as hell be there for Boo!" he cried passionately, gesturing at the church doors where it was likely that Boo was still standing on the other side.
"You're not her father, I am!" Clay snarled, jabbing his own thumb towards his chest. Tig laughed at that, laughed!
"No you're not!" he sneered. Enraged by Tig's laughter, his apparent amusement at the situation at hand, Clay punched him again, sore fists connecting with Tig's stomach this time as Clay didn't think it wise to go for the face again. The damage it was doing to his hands was terrible; at least Tig's stomach was softer. Despite being bent double with the force of the impact, despite being winded, Tig continued to laugh, although it sounded now something akin to choking. "Hit me again, it doesn't change anything!" he taunted as Clay raised his fist once again. The President was caught off guard by that comment, and knowing that it was true, lowered his fist and turned away from Tig, gripped the back of a chair tightly, again sending pain shooting through his hands. Knowing he was finally getting at Clay, Tig continued, voicing all that angered him about the way Clay treated Boo, the volume of his voice increasing with every word. "You see that kid every day, she lives with you, and she's in your life! But she might as well be on the fucking moon for all the attention you give her! Why do you think she came to me huh Clay? Because she doesn't have you! Because you don't give a shit about her!" the last words were a scream, so loud they echoed in the small panelled room.
"I care! And that's my choice, that is my kid!" Clay growled, tightening his fists against the back of the chair.
"Could have fooled me Clay." Tig said, shrugging his shoulders. In his mind, any outsider looking in would have no clue at all that Clay was Boo's father. Not through watching the way he treated her, the way he ignored her. Even Tig had trouble believing it sometimes. "You don't give a damn about her, you never have! You don't want her here; you'd rather she was hidden away in England like she was for the first 15 years of her life!" Knowing Tig was close enough behind him, Clay jammed his elbow into the Sergeant at Arms face for that, revelling in the sickening crack that he heard as a result. He'd broken his nose.
"You better watch what you're saying brother." He said menacingly as he spun round and glared at Tig once again, fists clenching and unclenching in a vain attempt to loosen them up some. They were now so stiff Clay could barely make his fingers move.
"If you care so much why don't you put things right while you still can?" Tig asked with an eerily calmness, eyebrow cocked in question, fingers wiping at the heavy stream of blood that poured from his hot, swollen nose."But this isn't about the kid is it? This about me wounding your goddamn pride!" he went on, still calm, smirking slightly in knowing that he was right. Clay backhanded him, sending Tig to the floor once again. He wouldn't admit, even to himself, that Tig's words rang true, that that was the real source of his anger. His wounded goddamn pride. As Tig fell, as if on instinct, Clay immediately pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at the mechanic's head. When the Sergeant at Arms rolled over and caught sight of the gun he started cackling, howling with laugher. Clay was completely unnerved by that laughter, as was the point behind it. The enemy always found it unsettling, intimidating even when the blue eyed mechanic laughed manically while being beaten up, thrilled by the excitement of the fight, almost getting off on it. "Go on, pull the trigger, kill me... and lose her forever." He said calmly, yet tauntingly his sparkling blue eyes, sinister grin and battered and bloodied face almost inviting it. Tig was Boo's entire world, save for Gemma, he was her father and best friend and if Clay killed him, she'd never forgive him for it.
Clay pulled the trigger.
SAMCRO
Gemma was sat at the dining table with a fresh cup of coffee, her head in her hands, her heart pounding with fear and anticipation when the front door opened revealing Boo, eyes swollen, cheeks damp, the occasional hiccupped sob escaping from her lips being supported by a concerned looking Juice. Gemma rushed to them at once, allowed Boo to fall into her arms.
"Oh my god... Juice what's going on?" she asked as Boo clung tightly to her, silent save for the occasional sob, the occasional snivel. Juice just shrugged awkwardly, not sure what else to do, what to say. Gemma glared and cocked an eyebrow, lips curved into a scowl. Surely he could say more on the matter than that? Juice shuddered under her glare, he found the Queen of Charming intimidating enough at the best of times and now was just about as bad as things could get! For all he knew, Clay and Tig could be killing one another.
"Clay came to the garage pissed as hell, dragged Tig into church... No one knows why." He explained shrugging again. He expected Gemma to snap at him for not knowing more, but was instead shocked when a sort of horrified realisation dawned on her face.
"Jesus, I think I know." She whispered, voice shaking a little, as she steered Boo into a chair. Once Boo was sat down, Gemma started pacing up and down, head ducked, finger and thumb pinching softly at the bridge of her nose. She inhaled deeply and then sighed, before looking up at Juice again. "I told Clay a few home truths about Tig and Boo..." she said, before chewing on her lip a little."I was hoping it might make him step up and be a father, I didn't think..." she trailed off worryingly, one hand on hip, the other on her forehead massaging gently at her temple to try and dull the ache that was forming there. She couldn't believe that she'd been so stupid! She'd known Clay for nearly 30 years and she knew better than to expect him to admit to his wrongdoings, his failings or to make up for them. All she'd managed to do was fire him up and send him on his way in a murderous rage!
"It's not your fault Gemma, Clay is just an asshole!" Boo mumbled from the table, causing Gemma to jump, having not expected her step daughter to speak up. Gemma couldn't help but smirk at that. Yes, he really was.
"I know baby." She sighed, returning to Boo's side and placing a comforting hand on her back. "Maybe when he gets this out of his system he'll start acting like a dad." She suggested doubtfully, the way her eyes narrowed and lips thinned making it obvious that not even she really believed her own words, as much as she liked to hope otherwise. Clay was a stubborn man, too set in his ways. There was no changing him, who he was nor the way he acted.
"I don't want him too! I hate him." Boo spat hatefully with no hesitation. She didn't care that her words had probably upset Gemma, didn't care that maybe they were harsh and unreasonable, because after all they were true. She hated Clay and she'd much rather have been born Tig's daughter than his. Hell she would rather be anyone's daughter than his!
"Don't say that Boo, you don't mean it, you're just angry with him." Gemma insisted as she ducked down to Boo's level, hand still on her step daughters back. Boo's eyes, so like Clay's, glared back at her, vivid blue, flaming fiercely and shaking with the intensity of her glare. For a moment Gemma almost had to remind herself that it wasn't Clay sat in front of her. She'd seen that look in his eyes so many times before.
"I meant every word Gemma." Boo insisted, hissing the words through gritted teeth. Gemma was startled by that, the viciousness of her stepdaughter's words, the crude honesty of them. It was totally out of character for Boo, and the way she glared, it made Gemma shudder. Made Gemma fear that maybe Boo hated her too, hated her for sending Clay off in a rage that might possibly kill Tig.
"Do you hate me?" she asked coyly, cocking an eyebrow. At once Boo's face soften entirely, her eyes widened with distress. Had she really made it seem as though she hated Gemma? She could never hate her stepmother, the woman who had took her in as her own from day one, taken her under her wing and worked tirelessly for months to bring her out of her shell and give her the confidence and sass needed to live the SAMCRO life.
"No! Gemma, I love you." She assured her stepmother, wrapping her arms tight around the Queens shoulders. "You're the best step-mother I could have ever asked for." Gemma embraced Boo back, a soft smile on her lips as she sighed in relief. Boo was to her, as much her child as Jax was and she wouldn't be able to stand it if Boo hated her.
"I love you too baby." she whispered softly.
SAMCRO
Chibs wanted Tig to go to the hospital, he really did. The Sergeant at Arms had a broken nose, bruised ribs and probably a concussion – he was drifting in and out of consciousness as Chibs treated him. Chibs was a good medic yes, he'd be able to reset Tig's nose, treat his cuts and bind his ribs but couldn't tell if Tig's head injuries were life threatening. The Scotsman feared he might have a blood clot, or worse... But the blue eyes mechanic was being stubborn and refusing to go. It was still unclear what had happened behind the locked church doors, but as Clay had walked away from the room without a scratch on him and hands aching and stiff, while Tig lay sprawled out on the floor battered and bleeding, it was safe to assume the latter had just stood there and taken a beating from his President. Chibs could only assume it was because Tig felt as though he deserved it, and to Chibs that meant he was probably fucking Boo. Or had been.
As Chibs carefully cleaned the cuts on Tig's face, the Sergeant at Arms stirred and awoke with a groan. His eyes were glazed and he looked dazed and confused, making Chibs more certain that he had a concussion. Tig tried to move, but thought better of it when he felt pain shoot through his entire body, from his toes to his fingertips, his head aching worst of all. It felt as though Clay had split it in two.
"Where's Boo?" he asked softly, eyes darting around the room frantically in search of the teenager. He was desperately worried about her. He knew that wherever she was, she'd be in a state, ever frantic with worry over what could have happened or knew what had happened and was scared that he was really hurt. He needed to see her, to reassure her that he was ok. Just about anyway.
He hadn't expected Clay to pull the trigger, truly believing that Clay's love for him as a brother, as his Sergeant at Arms, would hold him back. But Clay had pulled the trigger, or at least tried too. His arthritic, aching fingers had seized up on him so much so that he'd been unable to move them at all. He tried once, twice, three times to move his fingers before throwing the gun across the room with all his might and a howl of rage. That was when he'd stormed out, pushing past everyone without a word. He didn't get on his bike, what with being unable to physically do so, and had instead stomped towards Main Street. No one had seen him since.
"I sent her home with the prospect." Chibs informed Tig as he stuck a plastic stitch over a cut on the mechanics cheek. He'd told Tig the same thing half an hour before when he and Jax had lifted him onto the clubhouse table in order to treat him, and was rather amused that the first thing Tig asked for each time he came around was Boo. It obviously wasn't just fucking with them; he really must love the kid...
"She okay?" Tig asked, sounding distant. Chibs knew it wouldn't be long before he was out again. Which was a good thing in the Scotsman's eyes as sooner or later, he'd have to reset Tig's nose and he'd much rather do the job when Tig was out cold. He nodded.
"Aye, she's with Gemma, she will be." He said knowing that despite the state she had left in, Gemma would be able to calm her down and sort her out. At least until there was news from the club, or rather, news about Tig. Tig smiled at Chibs words, knowing Boo would be okay with Gemma, that he didn't have to worry about her for the time being and that he could see her later. This was good thing because he was suddenly feeling rather sleepy.
"That's great..." he mumbled happily, his eyes fluttering closed once again. Chibs tutted and rolled his eyes, continued with his work. When he was finished a little while later, he called the prospect in to watch over Tig before grabbing a beer and sitting with the rest of the club outside.
"So er, what the hell was all that about?" he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the clubhouse, referring of course to what had gone down between Tig and Clay. While he had managed to convince himself somewhat that Tig and Boo were fucking and that's what it all came down to, he still had a niggling sense of doubt and wanted to know what his brothers thought of the situation.
"Tigger's been stepping on Clay's toes for a while now, it was only a matter of time before the shit hit the fan." Piney said, flicking his spent cigarette to the ground before lighting up another almost immediately. He was unsure which side he fell on with the whole Tig/Boo thing. On the one hand he knew the kid needed a dad and was glad Tig seemed to be stepping into that role, but on the other he had no right to do so. That was Clay's place.
Chibs scowled at that comment, obviously Piney didn't think they were fucking, he seemed to think that Tig was taking over Clay's place in Boo's life. Was that the strange atmosphere he'd picked up on between Tig and Boo? One that was not quite friendship but not quite father/daughter either?
"Face it, Clay hasn't exactly been number one dad to her." Jax shrugged. Jax couldn't help but notice the difference in the way Clay had treated him at 16 and the way he treated Boo. When Jax had been 16 Clay spent his spare time teaching him to shoot, helping him fix up an old Harley he'd brought from a junkyard for $100 and taking him out to rallies. The most he did with Boo is give her a little praise at work, otherwise he pretty much ignored her. Of course it was neither here nor there that Jax had no time for his stepsister. "He brought it on himself." He added.
Chibs suddenly felt a little stupid. Was he the only one that believed there was a possibility that Boo and Tig were fucking? And if they weren't then why the hell had Clay beaten Tig so badly? And why had Tig let him?
"Clay didn't see it like that though. All he see's is Tig taking over his place in the kids life." Piney huffed as he adjusted the oxygen tube in his nose. Chibs understood then, why Clay had so badly beaten Tig if it turned out that he wasn't fucking Boo. Clay was clearly a man with a lot of pride and knowing that someone was taking his place, taking over his role as a father, must have pissed him right off. And Tig... well it was obvious he'd probably do anything for that kid he loved her that much. Even take a near fatal beating.
"So, Tig's not hittin' that?" Chibs asked cautiously, not sure how the others would take his crude suggestion but wanting to know what they thought on the matter all the same. Thankfully Tig's reputation was such that none of the club questioned his thoughts. They'd probably all, at one point or another, thought the same. At least that's the impression Chibs got from the look on all their faces.
"Ha! Hardly, Tigger has been playing daddy for near enough 6 months now." Piney said with a roll of his eyes, to which Jax murmured in agreement. Piney had thought that sex was Tig's intention at first, and had been disgusted with his brother. After all Boo was a goddamn minor! But it soon became apparent that the kid meant more to him than that, that he didn't see her as a piece of ass but as a person. A little girl needing a friend, needing a father figure. Jax too had believed the same for a short while and had actually confronted Tig about it. But his worries had been set aside when Tig had talked about Boo and what she meant to him, when he'd talked about being proud of her for coming out of her shell and working hard to remember everything he taught her...
"Pfft! Tigger is doing the girl, I'm sure of it." Bobby sniggered out of the blue. He hadn't for one second fallen for Tig's 'daddy' bullshit! He loved the kid sure, but it wasn't about him being fatherly to her, it was because he was fucking her and had gotten close in the process, what with seeing her every day at the garage and all. Bobby was shocked when he looked up to see Jax and Piney giving him looks of equal disgust. He didn't notice Chibs, who was looking at him thoughtfully. Chibs was glad that in some ways that he had someone to back up his theories, but at the same time annoyed. Bobby's difference of opinion to what Jax and Piney thought kept Chibs as confused as he had been to begin with!"Come on, you guys don't think he's hitting that?" Bobby asked, eyebrow cocked as he looked at each of his brothers in turn.
"No!" Piney spat, glaring at Bobby, sickened by his comments. "Tig might bone anything that he can, dead or alive, but the love he has for that kid, it's different." He insisted firmly, annoyed that Bobby was unable to see that, the sick bastard! Did that man ever think about anything other than sex?
"Tig doesn't get to see his kids much; he's making up for that by looking out for Boo. Well, that's my opinion anyways." Jax informed both Bobby and Chibs, his glare focussed on Bobby. More annoyed than Bobby thought so little of stepsister than anything else. Distant he may be with her, but she was still his sister and he didn't like the fact that Bobby was painted her up to look like some slut.
"Whatever guys! You mark my words, when she hits 18, Tigger will put his crow on her." Bobby said, holding his hands up in defeat. He was certain that on Boo's 18th birthday, Tig would gift her with a tattoo of a crow with bright blue eyes and the title of Ol' Lady. His Ol' Lady.
Chibs found himself agreeing with him, but a continued niggling sense of doubt kept his mouth shut.
So? What did you guys think? I really hoped you like this chapter cause I've been screwing my brains with it the last few days, trying to get it right, trying to get it done...
As usual reviews are incredibly motivational and make my writing worthwhile! Since we are rather near the 50 mark I'd love it if a few more of you left a comment to get us there with this chapter! That would make my week, it really would!