Okay, so I just want to throw a few things out here for a few questions I've been getting. First off this story is AU. Though you're going to see things that did happen in the series they might not occur in the same order or even close to when they did in canon. The only reason for that is that I had to rearrange some things to make this more realistic . . . and to move the story where I need it to go. So if you notice things happening out of sequence or being a bit weirder than they were . . . you're not crazy and I promise it will all make sense eventually. And yes, Ripley is bi and she is very serious about her deal with Tig. She's as odd as he is about some things . . . so that's going to be a lot of fun. And the girls will be making a pretty big appearance later. i like the idea of them as twins (mainly to justify their matching names) so we're running with that. And i've got them in at about 14 so . . .
Ripley rolled, trying to get comfortable in her big empty bed. She growled, fluffing another pillow before finally giving up and flopping back into the mounds of down and cotton. She was so not going to sit here and not sleep because Tig wasn't here. So what if he'd pretty much taken to staying here every night he wasn't at the Clubhouse . . . and so what he was at Bobby's homecoming party. Surrounded by Croweaters and Sweet Butts. Big deal. She groaned, rolling again and burying her face in the nearest pillow and screamed. She was so not going to be fucking Tara.
Tara had come to Gemma and complained about Jax's involvement with Cara Cara. While Ripley herself couldn't really see much of a problem with it-so long as he wasn't fucking a porn star then really what did it matter if he was there- she could understand being upset with the way the little cum-diva Ima acted. Tara had come a long way from when she'd first stepped back into everyone's lives . . . and Gemma seemed to be warming to her as she'd sat and listened, dolling out advice and what would happen if it wasn't followed . . . but Ripley herself still didn't really trust her.
They'd been good friends when they were younger and suddenly Tara had freaked and left. Taking huge chunks of Jax with her as she ran as hard as she could. Now she was back . . . but she still seemed to want to keep the chunks she'd taken with her . . . Ripley knew something was up with them, that something big had happened to force them back together so suddenly and extremely . . . but she loved Jax and Gemma enough not to pry. Even if he was acting like a little prick over Tig. At least when she'd left the Club after talking to Clay earlier they were all laughing and drinking.
Maybe she should've taken up Bobby's invitation and stayed . . . She shook her head. She knew what happened at homecomings and while she was no pansy or prude about sex and normal debauchery . . . she so did not want to see the reason her father had always called Bobby and Cunt Hound. She shook her head again, trying to banish that image. The man was like family and she did not want that image at all.
Sighing to herself, she tossed the covers back and got up, heading to her closet to grab clothes. She was going to the morgue and going to finish her back logged paperwork so she could actually enjoy her few days off in two weeks . . . and not be swamped with work to catch up on. It wasn't like she was going to sleep anyway . . .
Ripley had dressed appropriately for the chilly weather . . . and for the ride she was going to take. Her Pops had been adamant about her learning to ride when she'd turned eighteen and nowadays she was lucky to get a few hours in a month. She'd ridden pretty frequently in Long Beach-easier to park the modified Harley Fat Boy than the Chevelle- but since she'd been in Charming she just hadn't had the desire. She rode with Jax, Ope and Tig enough now that she didn't see the need. But tonight she wanted to ride . . .
Her hair was pulled into a low knot at the base of her skull, her bangs pinned back away from her face. The torn dark washed blue jeans and worn gray leather calf riding boots were more for comfort than anything else, though she knew Gemma would be after the boots for the criss crossing leather straps and studded detailing. She'd shrugged into a long sleeved black shirt, the sleeves coming to stop right above her second knuckle while the hem of the shirt stopped right at her thighs. The shirt was fitted but it would keep her warm . . . Especially under the faded gray leather motorcycle jacket. The high collar and the interior of the jacket was lined with charcoal silk covered down while the small bronze zippers and studs matched the boots . . . and the belt she'd thrown on over the shirt to sit low on her hips.
She opened her garage, moving to the back and slowly uncovering the black Harley. Her and her Pops had found it in a scrap yard when she was fifteen . . . and they'd worked to rebuild it up until he'd passed away. The '79 Fat Boy had been modified for a rider her size and weight and though she could ride the Dynas like the others she preferred her baby. The gleaming black body was pristine, the metallic black paint at home against all of the chrome detailing. Small charcoal pin lines swirled over the casing, coming together to form a filigreed frame the customized Harley Davidson logo. The body shop in Long Beach that had finished the detailing had actually custom cut the chrome logo to go with the designs on the bike, and the paint around it seemed to have small pieces of lace falling from the filigree. Her Pops would love what she'd done to the bike's body and the motor- the tune ups, the completely new '79 engine she'd found crated at a dealership, and the ape hangers as well as the slightly extended frame- but her mother would've loved the paint.
She sighed, shaking her head as she tossed her leg over the black leather seat. That had been the first thing she'd done . . . have a new, more comfortable and streamline seat put on. She didn't know how Bobby stood his . . . She turned the key, loving the deep rumble she got when she hit the throttle. A quick kick and her kickstand was up and she was pulling out and into her back yard. She sat there, balancing the bike for a second as she slid her glasses on before she looked up and just enjoyed the night. She'd always loved riding at night . . . something she'd learned from her Pops. But tonight the air seemed different. She shivered, shaking her head as she pulled around slowly and hit her driveway.
It was probably just her imagination . . . As she hit the access road; she smirked, checking quickly before pealing out and into the empty road. She opened her up, hugging to the curving and snaking roadway while she laughed. She felt her hair flipping and turning in the wind, and knew it would be a pain to contend with when she got home, but she didn't care. Right now, she was just happy to be free.
Tara walked in the living room of the Morrow's home, carrying the supplies she'd taken from the hospital tightly against her. When Sheriff Unser had called and told her to meet him at Gemma and Clay's she'd freaked. But Gemma had pleaded with her to come . . . so there was no saying no. But now, as she saw her, she knew she needed to get the woman to the hospital. Her cheek looked broken while her face was covered in blood and dirt . . . and the way she kept pulling the blanket tighter around herself told Tara more than either of the others had. Gemma had been hurt. Badly.
She sat, trying to clean the wounds and talk since into her but Gemma refused, claiming she was not going to let the whole world know what had happened. Tara sighed, standing and going into the other room. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and scrolled through the contacts. Jax had programmed this number into her phone and she'd thought he was crazy . . . but now she was thankful he had. Because this was probably the only person who could help her get Gemma the care she needed . . . if they would answer the phone.
Ripley looked up from the mess of paperwork, cursing as she tossed a whole file across the desk. These idiots were worse than the ones she'd left! Did no one understand the importance of proper book keeping and filing? She sighed, leaning back and propping her feet up on the desk, pinching the bridge of her nose above her glasses. She hated this shit. She was going to have to hire a damned secretary just to keep up with the others bullshit.
Her phone came to life, dancing across the desk as a number she didn't know flashed across the screen. She rolled her eyes, going to ignore it . . . before she remembered that sometimes Tig called from the different prepaids they kept for Club business. She sighed, picking up the phone and opening it.
"What?"
"Uh . . . Ripley?"
Ripley stopped, raising a brow before closing her eyes. Well now she knew not to answer that number again. It was fucking Tara.
"What is it Tara? It's almost three o'clock in the morning . . ."
"I know . . . but Gemma's been hurt and she won't go to the hospital. I hate to bother you but I need help. She needs to be seen."
Ripley felt her heart stop. Something had happened to Gem. Dear God . . . She stood grabbing her keys and her jacket, scribbling out a note as she spoke.
"Where are you?"
The relieved sigh told her just how bad this was . . .
"At Gemma's house. It was the only place she'd let Unser bring her . . . Ripley she's been messed up pretty bad-"
"I'll see when I get there. I'm in town so I'll see you in a few seconds. Tell Unser to put in a call to leave a black bike alone when it runs through every fucking light in Charming."
Ripley parked the bike beside the Sheriff's car, barely hearing the kickstand hit the pavement as she shot off of the bike and towards the house. Tara met her at the door, holding it open for her and closing it after she slipped in. Gemma was wrapped up on the couch, her cheek still bleeding as she looked up to see her. Shock and fury flashed across her face as she turned to Tara.
"Jesus Christ. Why did you call her? She doesn't need to see this . . ."
Tara went to speak but Ripley stepped forward, glaring down at Gemma as the Queen of SAMCRO glared at the doctor behind her.
"I'm glad she called, Gemma. Jesus . . . why aren't you at the hospital? You need to be seen . . . not sitting here."
Gemma glared up at her as she glared back down. Ripley was aware that Tara was moving behind her, trying to stay out of the line while Unser just looked between them. Finally, Gemma sighed, shaking her head and looked down at her hands.
"Tig see you leave?"
Ripley huffed, dropping to the coffee table in front of her godmother, taking her hands in her own as she brushed her bangs out of her face. The bruising to her cheek was pretty severe . . . the cut actually a break in the skin from the swelling. It was more than likely broken.
"He's was still at the Club when I left to go to work. Had paperwork to finish . . . I called him and left a message I was at the morgue so . . . he comes by and I'm gone won't be too bad."
Gemma nodded . . . and before anyone could react had wrapped herself around Ripley. Who just held her and petted her hair. Gemma didn't cry, just clung to her goddaughter as she tried not to shake.
"I'm so sorry, Chaos honey."
Ripley shook her head, hugging her tighter. She knew now that her godmother was in shock . . . pretty standard for what she was beginning to suspect had happened but it could still be dangerous. They needed to get her to the hospital and seen. Now.
"Why, Mama? Why are you sorry?"
Gemma shook her head, burying deeper into Ripley's arms. She hated to be this. To be so weak and so fucking fragile. This did not help SAMCRO. It didn't help Clay or Jax. And it sure as fuck didn't help Ripley . . . but she couldn't stop herself from clinging to the girl. Ripley knew from her own life how deadly this could be. She'd seen Ed go crazier and crazier until he'd finally accepted Millie's death . . . She did not need to see the only family she had left fall apart.
Gemma pulled back, cupping Ripley's face. She needed her to be strong . . . They all did. Those bastards were not going to tear her family apart. Not if she could help it.
"You don't need to be here. I didn't call you because you've already seen this, Baby. I don't want you to see it again . . ."
Ripley, the little brat, rolled her eyes and leaned her forehead against her own, shaking her head.
"Mama . . . I'm a big girl now. Let me help you. I promise I won't break if you let me bare some of this. You need to let me-let us-help you. You can't do it alone. And you're right . . . I have been here. But you survived Gemma. She didn't. Let me help it stay that way . . . Okay?"
Gemma nodded, closing her eyes to keep the tears at bay. The girl was too hard headed and strong. No wonder Tig had taken to her so fucking well. But she couldn't let them know . . . if the Club knew then they won.
"I can't be seen. Everyone will know. No one can know . . ."
Tara stepped forward, kneeling beside them. Gemma would've laughed at the way the two kept shooting glances to each other if she hadn't hurt so damn bad. Or been so cold. Only something like this could get Ripley and Tara in a room together without Ripley ignoring her and Tara trying to highbrow to compensate for being alienated.
"I can take care of that. Do a rape kit under a different name . . . The other injuries we can cover. . ."
"Won't you get in trouble?"
Tara smiled, reaching out and squeezing Gemma's hand.
"Let us worry about that . . . we still need to explain the rest though . . ."
Ripley glanced up at Unser and Gemma knew the girl had figured out a way to sell all of this to the others. Unser stood straighter, listening. The coldness had come back to Ripley's voice as she spoke but her grip never loosened.
"A car accident. At a considerable speed, the facial injuries would happen while the . . . stiffness could be explained away because of the impact and whiplash. Can you take care of that end?"
Unser nodded, getting Gemma's keys from the table.
"Yeah . . . I can do that. I'll meet you girls at St. Thomas . . . take care of her, okay?"
Ripley and Tara nodded and Gemma suddenly felt like maybe, despite all of this shit that they could do this. Ripley would kill for her and Tara had just said she would lie and steal. Together they could keep this secret right where it needed to be. Between them.
Tig watched as Clay paced before finally sitting down in one of the waiting room chairs. Unser had found them at the meet with Leroy . . . told them Gemma had been in a bad wreck. For the life of him, Tig couldn't understand why they hadn't been called earlier but Unser swore he'd gone to find them to tell them personally. Tara Knowles was treating Gemma, a fact that didn't sit well with him for some reason. He knew about all of the drama between the Doc and Jax . . . but while he honestly didn't have a problem with her he knew that there was bad blood between her and Rip. And Ripley seemed pretty capable of getting along with just about everyone. He smirked. Except puking forensic techs.
He turned, looking up to see Chibs, Juice and Sack wheel Bobby down the hall on a gurney. He stifled a laugh. Bobby was still royally fucked from last night . . . but he'd deserved it. He'd gone away for two months because of the shit with Stahl and the ATF . . . but now he was out. He chuckled as Bobby sat up, in a daze.
"How's Gemma?"
Clay smiled, shaking his head.
"Better than you, Bobby."
Tig shook his head, propping up against the waiting room door as Clay turned to him.
"You been able to reach Rip yet?"
Tig's smirk fell as the others looked on expectantly. Great, just remind him that not only did he not know where his girl was but that he was going to have to own up to the deal he'd made her. Which was totally unfair. If she'd just stayed he could've just worked her over all night and not the blonde little sweet butt he'd thrown in the floor. He dug in his pocket, pulling out his regular cell. Still no calls or messages . . . other than the one she left him at one.
"She had to go in last night around one so she's probably asleep and turned the damn phone off again."
Bobby laughed weakly from his spot on the gurney as Clay chuckled.
"Girl always did love to sleep. Ed hated having to get her up for school and shit. Only way he could when she was younger was to promise to take her on the bike."
They all laughed as Tig rolled his eyes. It was still odd to hear some of their memories about the girl he had literally fucked on almost every surface of both their homes, their vehicles and the damn Club. It was like hearing about a completely different person . . . but not. Thankfully, Juice opened his mouth and proved useful for once.
"Speaking of bikes. You guys see that Fat Boy outside?"
Chibs nodded, punching Bobby in the side.
"Yeah Bobby. Looks a lot like yours . . . minus ten years of rust and it looks to actually run. Custom job too. Very nice."
They all laughed, enjoying Bobby's good natured grumbling until a knock on the doorframe brought them out of it. Tig felt his heart stop as he saw Juice and Sack stand up a bit straighter. Tara was standing there, in full scrubs and talking to Clay, telling him Gemma could see him. But behind her, in a pair of painted on torn jeans and long black shirt was Ripley. Her hair was down and wild, save her bangs pinned up in a pomp and her face was clean, showcasing her freckles and her tan. She moved, nodding to Tara and Tig had to swallow a groan. She had on a pair of faded gray leather riding boots that stopped right below her knee, adorned with criss crossed straps and little studs and buckles . . . and a cropped gray leather motorcycle jacket that fit her like a second skin. That, coupled with the belt slung low around her hips . . . God; she was so going to model just the boots, belt and jacket for him one day . . .
Ripley stopped, hugging Clay as he went to go see Gemma. She stretched up and kissed his cheek, squeezing him before letting him go.
"She looks a lot better now . . . just be easy with her, okay? She's real shaken up about this . . ."
Clay nodded, kissing Ripley's forehead before going to follow Tara, Jax trailing behind them. Ripley sighed, shaking her head as she spotted Bobby. She reached down and very gently pushed his hair out of his face. He opened glazed eyes and, after recognizing her, smiled.
"Hey Baby Girl. We were just talking about you. When'd you get here?"
Ripley smiled, trying not to laugh at the slight lisp to his words. He was still plastered.
"Tara called me and asked to come sit with Gem while Unser tried to find you guys . . . You're head hurt yet?"
Bobby laughed, moving to sit up before groaning and falling back down clutching his forehead when she thumped him hard. The others laughed while Tig just kept looking at her.
"Oh God you are evil just like your Pops! He used to do that shit to me all the fucking time!"
She shrugged, moving away to go stand beside Tig.
"Yeah well you should expect it. I have strict orders to keep you in line, Bobby." She turned, looking up at Tig. His own eyes had slight bags under them . . . and his shirt smelled a lot like alcohol and . . . she leaned in, sniffing lightly before rolling her eyes at him and giving him a deadpan look. Tig just looked down at her almost dazed until she flicked his chest. Right over the Sgt at Arms patch. He jumped, covering the spot she'd hit before realizing what she'd figured out. His cheeks flushed ever-so-slightly as he reached out and pulled her into him, leaning to whisper in her ear.
"Missed you last night . . ."
Ripley huffed, turning to lean her back against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist and draped the other over her shoulder and chest. He laid his cheek against her neck, kissing a spot before he looked over to talk to Chibs. She wasn't stupid. She would let him have his pride in front of his friends. But she was serious. He didn't want to share her with anyone else than she sure as hell wasn't sharing him. Not within the Charming city limits. Runs were one thing. What happened on runs stayed on runs . . . But this was different. This was at home.
He leaned in, whispering to her as the others pushed Bobby back down the hall.
"You pissed at me, Little Girl?"
She shrugged, leaning up to kiss his jaw.
"Nope. We have a deal. Just don't be pissed when I fulfill my part of it."
He growled, pulling her tighter, making her laugh. He buried his face back into her neck, kissing up to her ear loudly causing her to giggle and squirm. He didn't know how much she needed that right now . . . just for him to make her laugh. But his words brought a flash of heat through her veins that made her knees go weak. She was suddenly very ready to go . . . and if it were anyone else but Gemma she would.
"Can't fulfill your part if I don't let you out of bed can you?"
She groaned, smacking him just in time for Jax and Tara to walk back into the waiting room. Tig didn't care as his mouth run back down her neck, nipping and sucking as she laughed. Jax rolled his eyes while Tara smiled at the two of them.
"Jesus do you have to do that here?"
Ripley opened her mouth but never got the chance to say anything as Tara smacked him for being pissy. Jax turned eyes wide as Tig stilled behind her. Both Sons knew that this was an oddity for the odd girl Jax was dating.
"What? You think it's cool for him to do that while we're waiting to see if my Mom's okay?"
Tara however just crossed her arms and gave Jax one of the most deadpan looks Ripley had ever seen before rolling her eyes at him.
"She's been here since early this morning, Jax. She knew what was going on way before you did . . . and she's been back there with your Mom since she got here. Because she actually answers her phone even when she is at work. And yes, I think its fine that he's holding her when she's upset. Maybe you could take a lesson from him and Clay about that. You don't always have to be a dick to be a badass."
Jax gaped as Tig buried his face in her hair, biting into the back of her jacket to keep from laughing while Ripley willed herself not to scream. If she only knew . . . Tara turned to Ripley, smiling again.
"Gemma is going to be a while . . . and Clay's going to stay a bit. I'll take her home later if you need to go and get some stuff done. I know we called you out of work."
Ripley smirked, reaching back and pinching Tig hard as he choked back another wave of laughter. Tara looked about ready to join him . . .
"That's the good thing about the dead Tara. They stay where you left them and they don't bitch about a time frame. But I do need to go home and shower, maybe eat. Just call me when she's ready to leave and if she wants, I'll come get her."
Tara nodded, huffing at Jax and walking away, leaving him to stare after her. Finally the temptation became too great and Tig busted out laughing. Just in time for the others to come barreling around the corner with Bobby . . . and run smack into Jax when Juice couldn't stop in time. Ripley shook her head.
It was like a daycare center for wayward homicidal idiots.
Half Sack watched Tig as he walked out with Ripley, his arm slung over her shoulder and keeping her tight against him. He would've never guessed that Tig of all people would enjoy the constraints of a normal relationship . . . but as he watched the two of them it was pretty obvious they both enjoyed it. He smirked. Maybe now with Tig's time pretty much occupied the Croweaters and Sweet Butts would have more time for him and Juice. He got pretty good as a Prospect but Tig, Happy and Chibs seemed to get the best ass . . . well and Jax before he'd gotten back with Tara.
He sighed, shaking his head before he noticed something. He'd looked for Ripley's Chevelle earlier. He and Juice both had. They'd been eager to have someone to talk to and joke with if the air got too heavy. But he hadn't seen it then and he didn't see it now. Had she ridden here with Tara?
Juice seemed to notice as well, looking to Ripley as she rolled her eyes at Bobby as he leaned heavily against Chibs.
"Uh, Rip? Where's your car? Are you gonna need a ride back?"
Ripley turned, raising a brow at him before turning back to Bobby shaking her head with a small smile.
"I rode here, Juice. I'm cool."
Juice however wasn't going to be ignored and, dragging Sack along with him, waltzed right into the conversation. Tig shook his head at them, probably already aware of whatever, but seemed pretty interested in what would happen. Chibs and Bobby were both listening as she explained about meeting Tara at the hospital . . . and finally Sack saw Juice was about to die. He was bouncing from one foot to another as he waited for her finish talking. Ripley rolled her eyes skyward and turned to him, motioning for him to ask whatever was so important as Chibs chuckled.
"But what did you drive? Your Chevelle isn't here. Do you have another car? Why haven't we seen it?"
Ripley turned to Tig who raised his hands chuckling.
"Hey, kids gotta point. Your car isn't here . . . and yes he is always like this after a party."
Juice nodded, bouncing as Chibs laughed and nudged Ripley. Sack however just shook his head. He was the immature one?
"So how are ya getting' home then lass? Your boy here takin' ya for a ride?"
They all laughed as Bobby smacked him while Tig just preened at the attention . . . until Ripley rolled her eyes and walked away from them. Juice and Chibs both called out to her as Bobby glared at Tig.
"Oh c'mon girlie! We were just havin' a bit o' fun. No need to leave! We're all goin' ta eat."
"Yeah, Ripley. C'mon. We'll take you to get your car."
Ripley rolled her eyes as she crossed the lot to her bike, shaking her head. As she got closer, she pulled her hair elastic from her wrist and gathered her curls at the base of her skull, pulling into a messy bun. When she got to her bike, pulled up the seat, digging out her aviators and sticking them in her curls and stowing her helmet before closing the compartment. It was a short ride to the diner so she wouldn't need it. She mounted the bike, resting one foot on the prop as she worked to fix her collar and make sure her hair would stay up before leaning back and enjoying the sunlight. It was too pretty of a day to follow such a shitty night.
She sighed, looking over at the now quiet group of boys she'd come from and flipped her glasses down over her eyes. She quickly cranked the bike and brought the engine roaring to life before she flipped the kickstand up and pulled out of the spot. She stopped right in front of them, looking over her glasses at them.
Bobby was smiling while Juice kept looking over the bike, almost drooling. Sack stepped closer walking around it while Chibs was ribbing Tig. Who just looked at her like she was a completely different person. She rolled her eyes, turning to look at Sack as he asked her a question. Tig knew she rode . . . it wasn't her fault no one thought to ask her if she had a bike.
"She's beautiful, Ripley. What year?"
"79. Pops and I rebuilt her from a total heap back when I was younger. I don't ride her much anymore but last night was clear and perfect. Too good to pass up, you know?"
Sack nodded, stooping down to look at the logo on the side.
"The paint job is awesome. I've never seen one like this . . . or with that logo. Custom cut?"
She nodded again, smiling at Sack as he blushed under the weight of the others stares. This was one of the reasons she liked Sack so well. He was a sweet kid and wanted to learn everything he could . . . but he was respectful. Her Pops would've liked him too.
"Yeah. A shop in Long Beach did it for me to go with the design of the bike. They tried to get me to have rims cut but it was just too much, you know? I wanted a custom bike . . . not a freaking show on wheels. So, you guys ready to go eat? Or was that just to make me feel better about having to ride bitch?"
Chibs laughed, slapping Tig hard on the back as he moved to get to his own bike with Juice. Poor Sack would have to drive Bobby in the van if they could get him to it. When the others were all getting ready, Tig stepped closer, looking over the bike appreciatively. Finally he looked up to her.
"She really is beautiful Doll. Why didn't you tell me you had her?"
Ripley shrugged, dropping the kickstand. Tig stepped closer, laying his hand on her jean clad thigh.
"It really just hasn't come up. I really don't get to ride her much anymore . . . besides, my dad and I put her back to rights. It's . . . odd to bring her out here and he's not here to see her."
Tig nodded, bending to catch her lips with his own. The kiss was something else . . . even if she could taste the night before.
"You taste like Croweater weed and booze, Tigger."
He smirked, his cheeks darkening as he ran a hand further up her thigh, squeezing as he pressed his forehead against hers.
"I guess I'll stop by the house and change then, huh? You going home after we eat?"
She nodded, rubbing her nose across his. He smiled, shaking his head before he did the same thing. They were so freaking odd.
"For a while. I'll probably go with Gemma later to see Abel . . ." She stopped, unsure of what to say or how to do this . . . before deciding to just play it off like a feeling. As much as she wanted to she wasn't going to tell Tig about what had happened to Gemma. It would kill her . . . and she couldn't do that.
"Promise me you'll keep an eye on her at work, okay? She's really shaken up about this and . . . She's like a mom to me, you know? I don't want anything else happening to her."
Tig nodded, pulling her around to sit side saddle on the bike and reaching out to kill the engine. He pulled her close to him, not caring about the fact that Chibs had pulled up beside them or that Sack was waiting behind them. He held her, running his hands over her back and thigh as he looked her in the eye.
"I swear on my patch, Baby. I'll take care of her . . . Okay?"
She nodded, kissing him softly on the lips. He smiled at her, loving the smile he got in return. That was his smile. The sweet little lift of lip that was innocent and unbelievably fucking sexy all at once.
"Okay. Ready to go eat?"
He nodded, pulling back with a wink.
"You know it, Baby. And then we can go home and get desert."
Ripley rolled her eyes, swinging her leg back over her bike and bringing the engine back to it roaring glory. The kickstand went up and she was off, Chibs keeping pace with her as they made their way to the diner. Juice waited with him to get his bike, waiting until they were alone to talk.
"You really like her don't you?"
Tig shrugged, straightening his jacket under his cut before getting on the bike.
"Yeah . . . why?"
Juice shrugged, turning to look to where the others had vanished from. He suddenly seemed so much older and wiser than the little goofy Patch in from a few minutes before.
"Just never thought I'd see it, you know? I mean, she's nothing like us and yet she fits with it . . . It's just weird how much she fits with you too."
Tig smirked, cranking his bike.
"Brother, she is one of us. Her Pops made my place . . . She's just as much SAMCRO as the rest of us. She's just a hell of a lot nicer to look at."
Juice smiled, nodding.
"Amen to that, Brother. Amen to that. And she looks so much nicer on a bike too . . ."
Tig groaned, gunning it and leaving Juice to trail. God he hadn't needed that reminder. After they ate, they were finally going for that ride . . .
