Because this chapter ended up being so long, I split it into two chapters. I will be posting 12 later tonight. A special thanks to jennifer11 and Sanity's-Overrated for all the help. Enjoy!
Chapter Eleven
In a tall oak tree in the front yard, a mockingbird mimicked the honking horn of a VW rabbit. The sun flooded through the small openings the tree offered. A German Shepard slept, belly up and warmed by the sun, in the grassy backyard. Silence was the theme inside the house where Brielle and Tig shared a bed. The two slept in the same position as they had fallen asleep in; Brielle laid on her back, one hand knotted in Tig's hair while the other rested on his cheek. Tig rested his head on her left breast, a small drip of drool leaving his mouth. The sun was kept out of their room and faces by the blanket Brielle had hung up by tacks over the window the night before.
The heavy oak front door, clicked open and then shut. Bailey, alerted from the backyard, jumped up from her sunny spot and rushed to the sliding glass door, wagging her tail while she barked. Zane Clark, Brielle's older brother, strode to the back door and slid it open. The German dog bounded in, running circles around her owner. With his knee, Zane nudged the dog away. Holding a child and trying to walk around a hovering dog wasn't easy. Goofily, Bailey jumped onto the couch and watched Zane and Elizabeth.
"Daddy," Elizabeth leaned back to face her father. "Can I wake up aunt Brielle and uncle Alex?"
With a twisted smile, Zane set his daughter down. "Sure thing, baby. Make sure you're really loud, kay?"
"Okay, daddy!" The five year old grinned at her father and flew like a bat out of hell into the back of the house.
Brielle and Tig still slept, even through the massive amount of noise Zane was making in the kitchen, trying to find the coffee filters and ground coffee. The door to their bedroom opened slowly, the head of a five year old peeking from behind it. With the grace of a cat, Elizabeth dashed into the room and jumped onto the bed, her knee landing on Tig's ankle. He jolted, waking to the sharp pain caused by the five year old's knee cap. The shock of Tig moving woke Brielle as well, both of their eyes opening in the slightest to see the girl hovering above them.
"Aunty! Wake up!" Elizabeth shouted.
Both adults groaned, turning to the other.
"Are you going to kill your brother, or should I?" Tig grumbled into Brielle's sternum.
"Thinking about it," Brielle replied, hugging Tig's head.
Elizabeth began to jump on the bed excitedly. "C'mon, sillies! Time to wake up! Daddy's in the kitchen making coffee. He wants to talk to youse."
By the time both Tig and Brielle arrived in the kitchen, dressed and prepared for the day, the coffee had been ready for two or three minutes. Zane sat at their heavy pine dinner table with a piping mug of coffee infront of him. Going to the pantry, Tig retrieved a box of cereal while Brielle got two clean bowls from the dishwasher. With the same eyes that he shared with his late father and sisters, Zane watched the two as they worked in sync, getting the milk from the fridge, pouring each other coffee, getting spoons for their cereal.
"Even in the early hours of almost noon you two work perfectly together," Zane commented before sipping his coffee.
"Die in a hole, Zane," Brielle snapped, sitting next to her brother who had taken Tig's seat at the head of the table.
"Does not play well with others, noted," Zane narrowed his eyes.
"Perhaps if someone could control his spawn to not wake people who've had a rather tough night..." Tig mumbled under his breath.
"Also does not play well..." Zane rolled his eyes. "We all had a rough night, Tig. It's not every day that an old lady gets murdered."
Brielle saw the look of hurt on Tig's face and decided to play interference between her brother and the man she loved. "Alright, change of subject. Why are you here?"
"Clay called me because neither of you were answering your phones. Told me to relay a message; that you two need to be at chapel today, which is in about an hour. Also, Brie, you need to go to the police station and get procession stickers for the funeral tomorrow. Clay thinks there's going to be at least a hundred guys." Zane explained as Elizabeth climbed into his lap.
Brielle breathed in sharply, finshed her cereal and took the empty bowl to the sink. "Guess I better alert Hale about all the bikers coming here, huh?"
Once she gave Tig a soft kiss goodbye, she gave Zane a sharp slap along side his head and her neice a tender hung goodbye, she left the house. From the kitchen the remaining three could hear the roar of Brielle's Corvette come to life for the first of many times that day. Rising from the table, Tig went to the sink, and washed out his dishes as well.
"So," Zane began, adjusting his black leather cut as he spoke. "When're you and my sister finally going to settle down?"
As Tig left the kitchen he scoffed. "Lock the front door and put the dog out when you leave, will you?"
Brielle couldn't be in a mood worse than shewas now. Not only had she been jerked around like a ragdoll at the police station, but she had missed the chapel meeting. As she was moodily striding in, Piney was storming out with Jax on his heels. She barely got out of the way before Piney could run her ass over trying to get out of the door.
"Where's Piney going?" She asked Jax.
"He and Clay blew up. Where were you?" Jax paused to speak with her.
Brielle rolled her eyes before replying. "Went to the police station, got held up by Stahl. She decided to ask me about Donna's murder."
"Well, go on into chapel. They're not really talking much anymore."
They shared an awkward, soft smile and went their own ways. Although Jax had already told her to go into chapel, she knocked apprehensively on the door. From behind them, the gruff voice of Clay allowed her to enter. When she opened the door, it seemed as if the moral of the room brightened as she entered. Juice's head lifted from where it rested on the table, Tig and Chibs turned to face her, and Clay straightened in his chair.
Shutting the door, Brielle ventured to the empty chair next to Juice. The seat where Bobby usually sat. Once she got comfortable, she reached into her purse and put the small amount of stickers Hale had given her for the funeral.
"Um, ten stickers is not going to cover the guys we have coming down." Clay uttered, raising an eyebrow.
"I know, Clay," Brielle crossed her left leg over her right. "Hale only gave me ten because San Joaquin didn't expect the amount of bikers that would show up for Alvarez's kid's funeral. SJ was also not expecting the Mayan body count thanks to the Niner's the other day and swiped Charming's procession stickers. Hale's supposed to be calling me around three or four."
The president nodded, before speaking again. "Why were you late?"
"Stahl's been reassigned to Charming," She stated with a sour smile on her face. "Apparently, Donna's murder is now of federal intrest. She decided to ask me why Donna had been mistaken for Ope or if I knew if Donna had participated in anything sketchy lately."
"And?" Tig asked.
"What do you think I told her?" Brielle rolled her eyes. "That she's been involved with the inside workings of SAMCRO since she married Ope and that I had too? No, I told her that Donna had been an innocent, gone too soon."
"Good," Clay spoke again. "Does she suspect anything about your involvment?"
Brielle briskly shook her head. "If she does, she hasn't said anything about it."
Chibs snorted. "Yet."
Brielle barely listened to the priest as she stood next to Tig in the mass of mourners at the cemetary. Earlier, before the service had started, Opie had offered her a seat next to him and the kids but she chose to stand. Not because she had an adversion to the Winston family, she was just more comfortable standing. Across from where she stood, Juice stood just behind the seat Tara had picked. Occasionally, the brown eyes of the Puerto Rican often caught the gaze of Brielle's hazel eyes. Light smiles would flicker across both of their faces before they remembered where they were.
Jax hadn't been part of the ceremony at all. He had barely even made it. Brielle saw Tig tense up when the vice president sauntered to the casket, took the last blue and white carnation, kissed it, and set it on Donna's new resting place. While he did this, he looked at his mother, stepfather and Tig. Brielle could see the wildfire burning in Jax's eyes before he left.
Once the priest had finished his prayers, the crowd dispersed. Most of the bikers went to their motorcylces and the women went to the cars they had driven to the cemetary in. As the crowd went one way, Brielle went the other, looking for her father's headstone. The memorium to Raymond Clark sat pristine in the ground, cleaned to the point where it looked untouched by rain or sun. For the millionth time in her life, she read the inscription on the headstone: 75th Ranger Infantry Regiment "Death From Above", loving father, RIP.
"I didn't know your old man was in the same infantry as Clay," The soft, curious voice of Juice spoke from behind her. He had given her a bit of a shock, making her jump when he spoke. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"No, it's alright," She smiled at the prospect. "And yeah, it's how he got into the Sons. He and Clay were pretty close."
Juice stuck his hands in his back pockets, absently nodding to what she had said. "Um, Tig sent me to get you, I guess." He pointed to the group of Sons that stood probably 100 feet away at Donna's gravesite. From where she stood, Brielle could pick out the brown curls that belonged to Tig rustle softly in the wind. She ignored that Tig had sent for her and continued gazing at her father's grave. There were so many things wrong with Tig sending Juice to get her. Why couldn't he walk the short distance himself?
"I miss him." She noted, trying to keep herself from crying. This caught Juice's attention. He could hear the lump in her throat and the tears threatening to spill over.
"Sounds like he was a good dad," Juice put an arm around her shoulder, turning her away from the headstone.
"He was the best." She corrected, feeling like Zane had something to do with how Juice was bringing her back to the others. "What about yours?"
"Never really knew mine, but we'll talk about that later," He looked down at her. Before arriving infront of the other bikers, Juice released her, adding a wink.
The sound of several automatic hand guns filled the air. Cartridges from the ammo hit the ground while the lead that had been the tip of the cartridges peppered several stacks of lumber with targets taped to the wood. Brielle stood next to Cameron and Edmond Hayes, a smoldering cigarette inbetween her pointer and middle finger. The three of them watched as five men shot wildly at the targets, Half Sack on the sidelines, waiting for the five to reload. Once the shooting stopped, the prospect rushed to the targets to change them out before the patched in members began shooting again.
"So," Brielle turned to the Irishmen who were dealing to the Sons. The air was eerily silent without the sound of automatic weapons firing and Brielle's ears slightly rang. "Wanna tell me about the guns?"
Cameron looked at her like she had a hole in her head, wondering what she had asked. But Edmond understond the question and spoke up for his father. "Light, easy to conceal in a saddle bag. Each clip can hold 150 rounds, the gun it's self shoots 20 rounds a second. They don't often jam, but when they do, put the saftey on, pull this back, dig that li'le bullet out 'o there and continue with your business."
Edmond finished just as the five began to go crazy on the targets again. Luckily, Half Sack had gotten out of the way quick enough. Watching the Sons again, Brielle nodded and dropped her cigarette butt to the ground. She wasn't sure who she should be allowed to be caught focusing on; Juice or Tig. Her problem had gotten worse since her lunch date with Juice three weeks ago. The feelings she had for Juice were becoming stronger, but the way she felt for Tig wasn't exactly going away either. Despite how annoyed she could get at the latter of the two, he had been there for her for 11 years. It was tough to cut the emotional ties she had to him.
Again, the shooting stopped and Half Sack ran to refresh the targets. Like the douche he could often be, Tig aimed to the right of the prospect, firing off several rounds. The rookie howled at the high velocity projectiles coming towards his body and shielded himself as a few others joined in on firing near him. With a smile on his face, Clay approached the Irishmen and Brielle, who was currently busy with putting her hair in a ponytail.
"Brie?" Clay spoke, non chalantly asking for the information she got.
She nodded. "They seem trustworthy. Edmond says they jam, but as you know, if you keep a gun clean, it'll never jam."
"Alright, shall we get down to business?" Clay, too, nodded, motioning towards the warehouse that had finally been rebuilt. The Irishmen lead the way, but Brielle slowly retreated to her Mitsubishi SVU. "Brielle, you coming?"
"Nah," She shook her head. "Got a bunch of cars that need working on, trying to clear the lot for Bobby's party tonight."
Clay shrugged, as if to say 'you're invited, but you're loss...' Tig simply gave an open palm as a guesture of goodbye, as did Jax and Chibs. With a sneaky, malicious grin, Juice approached her. Brielle narrowed her eyes behind her sunglasses, knowing he couldn't see her curiousity. He glanced for a second over at the others, and once he was pleased that none of them were looking, he put his lips onto Brielle's. Behind the dark shades, her eyes widened. As he pulled awar, the wide, toothy grin that had become a favorite of hers spread on his face. Brielle's mouth was parted slighty, mostly in shock of what had just happened.
"Really? Right in front of Tig and the others?" She hissed, barely able to hear herself.
Juice simply shrugged, still smiling. "See you at the shop."
Chapter 12 later tonight. I SWEARS IT! In the meantime, please review. They really do mean a lot to us authors. Disclaimer: I do not own anything Kurt Sutter, FX, or SoA related. The Clark family is mine.
