Clay left the Clubhouse under the guise of going to check on Piney,
but in reality, had nowhere to go.
His beloved town was going to hell, and fast.
There was no point in going up to the cabin unless he wanted to check
and make sure the old man hadn't 'regenerated' too.
No one knew yet, but Piney was dead…and he was going to stay dead,
Clay was sure of it.
Truth be known, as far as he was concerned, an apocalypse couldn't have
come at a better time. He'd gone off the rails-he admitted it.
Driving up and shooting a member of the First 9 in the chest-twice-was not
his finest moment as MC President, especially with the evidence he probably left
on hand.
Even if he hadn't, Jax wasn't stupid.
Neither was Gemma for that matter, and God knows she'd find a way to
make it her business, getting into as many poor saps heads as possible to dethrone him.
Well, let her try.
If Opie disobeyed orders and drove up anyway, he'd find his father dead in the
middle of what was potentially the end of the world as they knew it.
Maybe Clay would drive up, take some things, guns, valuables…make it look like
someone found the secluded cabin and tried to over-run Piney,
use the old place as their hide out until things blew over.
There was a scuffle, and an old man with an oxygen tank who had
probably been on his way out anyway suffered a casualty.
Sounded okay to him.
This would all be handled in time, but not today.
Today he had business with Unser.
That was another nosey old bastard who would do well with a little more
led in his body. He'd drive up to that piece of shit trailer, have words with him,
and maybe invite him back.
Have him included in the lockdown.
Because if things were as dire as they seemed, Wayne was going to need
more protection than that tin can he lived in, and if Clay offered it, he would no
doubt feel gratitude towards him.
Owe him a favor.
Clay chuckled to himself as he made the turn into the dusty drive-maybe Unser
could go wreck the cabin for him, in exchange for room and board.
Clay wouldn't have to lift a finger. Disaster notwithstanding, it was turning out to
be a pretty good day for the MC Prez.