"I built this world for you, Callie. Everything I have is yours, babe. The money. The house. The cars. Everything…I love you." Zero's voice reverberated through my head as I leaned against the front door. His voice multiplied, everything he had ever said to me overlapping until my head was roaring with the echo of a lost soul. "You're my best friend, Callie. My best friend in the whole fucking world." I slid down the length of the door and looked up at the tall ceiling of the foyer—the home we were supposed to spend our lives in. Raise a family of humans and animals. To grow in. It was over now. "Come back, Z," I whispered. Red morning light appeared through the windows around the door behind me, illuminating the dark foyer. It was a new day. My first day on earth without the man I loved. I did not know a world without him until that moment, and all I wanted to do was die. "I love you, Callie…" My world warped around me, and the red sunlight liquified across a pale, peachy canvas. Sharp pain emitted from the source of the flow, and a shiny piece of metal traveled through the stream, breaking more dams in its journey. The pain that seared through my arms grew in such intensity that I was sure my chest was collapsing.
I came home late after a run for the club, delivering a certain piece of machinery to be passed off to our Las Vegas allies. I didn't expect to find what I found when I returned home.
I found him slumped over the bed, his shoes muddy, clothes filthy. I tried waking him. Tried resuscitation. It was no use. Even as I threw his body into the floor and tried to wake him, I knew he was long gone. I screamed at him like a maniac, but I knew it was no use. I called the paramedics, then lifted Z's heavy body onto the bed. I removed his ratty old tank top, dirty shoes and jeans, dressed him in his favorite purple t-shirt, his nicest jeans, and favorite pair of boots. I then cleaned his face, brushed his hair, and he was ready when the paramedics arrived. I never saw him again.
The sun was rising, and the first rays began to illuminate the taupe walls. I did not cry until now. Fat tears rolled freely down my cheeks. I sat in pitiful silence, and for the first time in years, I felt like a child again. Like a child lost in a large amusement park. I had lost my best friend. The very same kid who played with me at recess, protected me in high school, treated me like gold, and had given me everything. The same lanky teenager who I had spent two weeks with when my parents died. After calling everyone, and no one making an attempt to contact me, I realized, as I curled over myself on the black and white tile floor, that I was utterly alone.
My vision cleared for a brief moment as I slipped into the floor, propped between the toilet and the wall, red dripping down the porcelain and the shiny piece of metal falling to the floor. The pain was gone, and for the next few hours, I felt numb.
My eyes snapped open. I was shaking, not only with cold, but with fear and shame. I was clutching the fabric of my pillowcase. My covers had fallen to the floor. I looked around the room, the light pole outside casting a blue glow over the room. I released my hands and quickly sat up. My entire body was cold, and I felt this ripping feeling in my chest. I had not felt it since the night of the crash, and it scared me. It was a sensation that drove me to do things I knew Zero would hate me for. I had never intended for that, and had rid myself of my bad habits. Tonight, in a moment of weakness, my mind kicked on automatic.
I stood up and left the bedroom in search of the bathroom door in the dark of the hallway. My dream, which was more of a waking recurring nightmare, flashed through my mind. A faded image of Zero's frozen face. The cold of his hands and the tile floor. The warmth of the red.
When I reached the bathroom door, something made me stop. I was not sure what it was, but I stopped, finally coming to my senses before I screwed up. I didn't want to pursue an old, nasty habit. I had sworn off of it, and had been clean for years. Three years soon. I had promised myself I wouldn't do it, and made the promise to Zero the last time I visited his grave with a bundle of purple flowers and a travel sized bottle of Jack.
I backed away from the door and moved down the hall to the living room, where I took refuge on the couch, making myself comfortable among the cushions and watching late night adult cartoons at a barely audible volume level.
It had to have been an hour, if not more, but it felt like just minutes as I stared blankly at the TV, letting my mind shut off and get lost in a show about talking food and their superpowers. I was sitting with my back against the armrest, arms crossed over my stomach and knees pulled up, legs cast to the side so I could see the screen. I didn't move, and my stillness must have caused me to doze when I felt the tentative touch of warmth against my cheek. I shuddered and my limbs came unraveled. When I looked at the TV again, a different cartoon was on.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's just me."
I looked up to see Chibs behind me, and let out a shaky sigh of relief. He leaned over and turned a lamp on, flooding the room with warm light.
"What are ya doin' in here? Too cold in your room?" he asked.
He touched my cheeks and then felt my bare shoulders, only covered by the straps of my bra and black tank top. I usually never wore such during late fall and winter nights, but Chibs kept his home pleasantly warm, and with the thick blankets he had provided, I was always comfortable.
"You're ice cold, darlin'. You're not gettin' sick, are ya?" he asked.
I shook my head and looked up at him. He blinked at me. His face was relaxed, but his eyes hard with worry. It was then I wanted to kick my own ass. No one had looked at me like that since I arrived in Charming. No one gave a shit, and if they had, they never made the effort to show it. The look on Chibs face was the look of someone cared. He truly, genuinely cared, and I was the reason for worry on his face at this ungodly hour.
Chibs took my chin between his fingers as he had at chapel and studied me. He knew how to read people—that much was obvious. I'd be a fool not to realize that, and an idiot to lie and tell him different.
His concentration melted away when he got his answer.
"Another nightmare?" he asked, the eyebrow that had not been obstructed by his long hair falling in his face arching like the back of a scared cat.
I nodded. Chibs sighed and patted my shoulder.
"Sit up for me, darlin'."
I did as I was told and scooted to sit on the edge of the middle cushion. He sat beside me, and to my surprise, offered a hug. I felt my chest knot up at the gesture—how familiar it was. How I had wanted anyone to have reached for me that night Z went home. I did not question it, and scooted against him. Chibs was warm, and the sudden change in temperature made me shiver. He held me hard against him and pressed his face into my hair.
"How did you know?" I whispered.
He reached for my hands and took both, wincing when he felt their icy temperature.
"I…sort of heard part of it," he confessed.
I closed my eyes. Damn!
"I'm sorry," I replied quietly.
I felt him shake his head.
"Don't," he said.
I just nodded.
"I'm not a hopeless case, I swear," I said.
Chibs sniffed in amusement and looked down at me.
"I never said ya were, Callie girl."
"Yeah, but I don't want you to think I am."
"You're in pain. That doesn't make ya a hopeless case. If anythin', it just means ya need someone there for ya."
I nodded. Chibs held my jaw and stroked my cheek with the rough pad of his thumb.
"I'll be right here whenever you need me. Ya hear me, Cal?"
I nodded as he kissed my forehead.
"Love ya," he said.
He reached for my hand again and squeezed it. I let out a shaky breath tears immediately welling up in my eyes.
"Love you, too," I whispered.
Chibs shifted and let me curl up against him. We remained like that, neither of us sleeping, watching the end of the adult cartoons as the sun rose and the morning children's cartoons began. Something…something different happened within those few hours. A bond was made. As we talked about the nightmare, and then switched onto the subject of Gemma Teller and her death, we found comfort. There was probably some old curse when friendships are created over tales of the dead, but spilling our guts and tears were therapy, and I would soon find it also made a powerful, powerful glue.
The sun lit up the field across the road, soft light reflecting up the hill and into the living room. Chibs shifted to relieve stiff and probably sleeping muscles, but made no move to get up.
"It's mornin', Callie girl," he announced.
My eyes were closed and my head was upon his soft gray t-shirt. I opened my eyes to see light coming through. This light was not red, but a bright white. Happy Californian sun, like the warm light that welcomed me when I had my first nightmare at Tig's place. I saw it as a sign that here there was light. I was meant to be here.
I looked up at Chibs, still kicking myself. Looking at him…made me want to live.
"Morning," I said, groggy from talking for hours and lack of sleep.
Chibs held me against him, curled around me and closed his eyes. I buried myself against him resting the side of my face in his chest, protected by the body of a man I could call my best friend. It sounded right in my head.
"Night," he said gruffly.
I smiled.
"Night, Filip."
Perhaps it was his body heat, or the changing in temperature outside, but finally, I was warm.
Shane Maddox, founder of The VII and long time President of the club, watched as his brother walked into his kitchen. He sat at the kitchen island, the Old Ladies off to the side serving drinks and chatting as the remaining members circled around him. His Vice President L. Hanes. Long brown hair, combed backwards, his sides shaved. Brown eyes and soft features. A smile that could have any girl on their knees. Tattoos up and down his arms. A guy who knew how to break your neck in one single swipe. Tino, the club's Sergeant at Arms, walked in in time to sit next to L. Shane smirked at Tino's unnaturally disheveled appearance. Tino was always well-dressed and groomed. His oily black hair combed neatly to the side, his pale skin flawless and clean-shaven. His clothes dressy. When he entered with a nearly full beard, his hair falling, wearing a navy blue hoodie and dirty jeans, Shane almost burst out laughing. He knew he would see the day.
"Took you long enough," Jojo Christmas, who sat to Shane's right, spoke.
Tino rolled his eyes.
"Fuck you," he said, obviously tired.
L smiled at Tino and gave him a hug. Their newest Prospect, RJ Richards, sat quiet and nervous next to Jojo. Shane cast a glance over his table. The spiky haired blonde Jojo reaching across the table to shake Tino's hand. Mousy little RJ looking faint. L and Tino taking the piss out of each other. Tino's Old Lady kissing his cheek before leaving with the other girls. It was then Shane called the meeting to order.
"Alright," he said.
The crew looked to their President, now the tallest of the five, large muscular arms, shaved head, handsome face. Tattooed arms like the rest.
"I got a call from Tino last night. Apparently, he's found her. Correct?" Shane asked.
Tino nodded.
"Okay, quick question," Jojo interrupted.
L and Shane shot Jojo a look. Jojo cowered, but still spoke.
"Why the sudden interest in Z's Old Lady? I thought we agreed to keep her out?" he asked.
"Because, dumbass!" L spat, "Think for a fucking second!"
Jojo hunched his shoulders up, feeling like he was being punished. It was not his fault they did not always tell him everything.
"What reasons does Cal have to bail like that? Take off so suddenly?" Shane inquired.
Jojo was still confused.
"If she was going to leave, she would have done it after Z died," Tino explained.
Jojo nodded, starting to understand.
"So, what? You think she knows something?" he asked.
"That's exactly what we think," L said.
"She definitely knows something," Tino agreed.
Shane's focus moved to his Sergeant at Arms.
"Did you find out any information?" he asked.
Tino shook his head.
"Just spotted her having dinner with a couple of guys from SAMCRO," he replied.
L groaned and put his head in his hands.
"That cunning little…"
"Cunt," Shane finished for him.
"You think she's rolling with them?" Jojo asked Shane.
Shane ignored him for a moment.
"Who was she with? The whole crew?" he asked.
Tino shook his head.
"According to the whore bartender I talked to, it was just two of them. One with his Old Lady. Curly hair," he explained.
"The guy or his girl?" Shane asked.
"Him. I mean, her hair was wavy, but this guy was straight up Gene Wilder," he replied.
Shane nodded. L smiled at that.
"What about the other guy?" Shane asked.
Tino gestured to his face.
"Joker face. Some bastard cut him from ear to ear, looked like," he replied.
Shane's face fell, and an awkward silence fell across the table.
"That's the Scot. He's their President," he replied.
Tino gritted his teeth.
"Shit!" he hissed.
"Goddammit!" L barked.
"The Tellers don't run that show anymore?" Jojo asked.
Shane shook his head.
"Fuck! I was going to say, if it was Jax Teller, we could foil them without a problem," he said.
"Yeah, Teller was an idiot," Tino agreed.
"Yeah, but this new one isn't. It's going to be a lot harder to flip that shit," Shane said.
"What the fuck is Callie running to SAMCRO for?" L asked, "You think she knows something?"
Shane nodded.
"That's exactly what I think. I think that little bitch got some intel from someone and she's seeking the strongest MC she can find. If she knows anything at all, we're dead. You wanna talk about smart? Goddamn, man! Best assassin we ever had."
"She'll take all of us out with the snap of her fingers, bro," Tino said worriedly.
"Unless she gets sloppy," L said.
The table grew silent and they watched the VP curiously. Shane furrowed his eyebrows.
"How so?" he asked.
L tapped his fingers against the table.
"If she's crying to SAMCRO over what we think she knows, she'll fuck up. It's personal shit. She can't handle it."
Shane and Tino nodded in agreement.
"Why the fuck would an MC like SAMCRO care? She'd have to have some kind of leverage," Jojo said.
Tino's eyes widened.
"Oh fuck!" he breathed out.
He met the eyes of the his worried brothers.
"Business," he said, "She still owns Zero's shit! What if she's agreed to pipeline that shit north? In exchange for vengeance?"
L's eyes widened and he shot Shane a frightened look.
"I thought we had a cork on that?" he asked, his voice shooting an octave higher.
Shane slowly shook his head. L flopped backwards in his chair.
"Goddammit, Shane!" he shouted to the ceiling.
"Bro, SAMCRO gets that shit and we're broke," Jojo said to Shane.
"Why didn't we go get it all when Z died?" L snapped.
"Because I never thought Callie would turn rat, you dumb fuck!" Shane growled.
Tino placed his hands on the table, trying to calm the tension.
"We don't know any of that to be true. We just know that Callie is on a mission, and she's flirting with a deadly crowd," he said.
"Well, you know…" L trailed off.
"Enough!" Shane said, then looked to Tino, "Say she's found out intel. Someone within our circle ratted to her. That is her only motive. If all of this is true, we have to move quickly."
The guys nodded.
"Tino, I want you to ask around. Smoke out the rat," he continued, then cast a sly smile at RJ, "RJ can go retrieve Callie from SAMCRO."
RJ paled.
"Me?" he asked.
"You know where Charming is?" Tino asked.
RJ quickly nodded.
"'Kay. Hunt for her bike. Black Suzuki. Sports bike. Probably has a zero painted on it somewhere. She always wore his mark on everything. Look for it. SAMCRO owns part of an escort service called Diosa. I checked it out. Start there. They also have a porn studio. Find it. You find those, you'll find the MC, and then Callie. Short girl. Short black hair. Sharp shooter, so don't get within her sights. You got me?" Tino asked.
RJ nodded.
"Take a few of the Prospects with you. You do this, and you're in, brother," Shane said.
RJ agreed. Tino waved him off.
"Get on it," he ordered.
RJ nodded and quickly shot out of the Maddox house as fast as he could. Shane gritted his teeth.
"We already sent Santiago after her. Tino, did you ever get a trace of him?" Shane asked.
Tino shook his head.
"Thought he may have stopped to get some pussy. That's why I was checking out this Diosa place. Come to find out it was owned by a bunch of fucking Mayans and SAMCRO. Left that shit alone. Didn't think Callie would be a part of it. Tracked him. His footprints ended before Charming. Someone picked him off. Could have been anyone."
"And he showed such promise," L said, "Finally one Prospect I thought would live."
"Except for those pussies Z always pushed to save," Jojo said, lighting a cigarette.
"Meh, that didn't last," Shane said.
L cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the hallway RJ had exited through.
"Let's hope this one makes it through," he said.
Shane snorted.
"He's gonna die."
L just laughed.
"It's been a week, baby girl. Let's go," Tig said.
He pushed my bike out of the storage area behind Red Woody and moved the kickstand down. He then patted the leather seat and smiled.
"Come on, sweetheart. It's not gonna bite," he coaxed.
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Oh, it doesn't?" I challenged.
Tig looked down at the bike apprehensively.
"It may bite me. I don't know. I'm not experienced with anything that moves over 90," he said.
I smiled at that.
"What's this thing top out at?"
"Around 160," I replied.
Tig blew his cheeks out and put his hands on his hips.
"Holy shit, Cal. It would bite me," he said.
I smiled. Tig clapped his hands together.
"Come, ya little speed demon. Let's do this. You got this."
I sighed and approached the bike, slipping my helmet on as I walked. Tig moved to the front of the bike to hold the handlebars as I sat down. It was unnecessary, but he had been chomping at the bit all week to get me back on.
"Saddle up, Cowgirl," he said.
I smiled and rolled my eyes.
"Call me that again and see what happens," I challenged.
Tig smirked.
"Like what?" he asked.
I placed my hands on the bars and returned his smirk.
"Why don't you climb on and I'll show ya? Tigger," I teased.
Tig let go of the bike and shook his head.
"Hell no! Hell no! This is all you, baby girl. I ain't touchin' that thing!"
I laughed and looked down at the bike. That's when my heart rate began to pick up. It wasn't nearly as intense as the last time, but it was enough to make me wonder if I was really ready. Tig noticed my apprehension, and reached over to put his hands on mine.
"I know you got this. Start it up," he said, his tone now softer.
I nodded, and started the engine. The engine turned without a problem, and for the first time in weeks, the bike purred to life. Tig looked down at me in surprise.
"Wow. I thought it'd be a lot louder than that. Sounds great, though," he said.
"That's why they call it a stealth bike. Black out everything, keep it quiet," I replied.
Tig smiled.
"It's perfect, little Scout. I'm scared to ask how much it was. If it's as fast and quiet as you say it is, we need to grab one for Juice," he said.
I laughed.
"It's high. I got a discount, though," I said.
Tig eyed me, his clear blue eyes accusing, but playful.
"Five finger?" he asked.
I kicked up the stand and balanced the machine between my legs.
"Perks of having a loving and financially stable fiancé," I replied.
Tig smiled.
"Splurged, did ya?" he asked.
I shook my head. What I had left from Zero was kept, the only heavy cash being handed out was the balance from trading in my Harley.
"Treated," I corrected.
Tig smiled warmly and patted my shoulder.
"Why don't you circle around? Get yourself reacquainted with your steed," he said.
I nodded and put the bike in gear. Tig walked backwards, out of the way as I cautiously pulled forward. My panic—all those residual feelings from that night began to melt away, as if it had never happened. The bike purred, and I had a sudden craving to get out on the highway and gun it. Tig followed, observing, his arms crossed over his chest.
"You got it, baby. You never lost it," he said.
I smiled shyly and pulled up to him.
"Why don't we hit the road? I know a place we can go where you can let loose. Shake off the rust," he suggested.
I nodded.
"I'll follow you," I agreed.
Tig grinned and gently nudged my shoulder.
"Wait 'til Chibby sees you!" he teased.
I rolled my eyes and bit my lip. I remembered what he had said to me in the truck. Had he really been teasing? At this moment, I really hoped so.
Tig's Harley roared to life, drowning out the soft hum of my Suzuki. His clipped on his helmet, then gestured for me with a tilt of his head. I pulled my face shield down and followed him out to the road.
Tig led me through Charming, taking me down the slow streets that led through downtown. Neither of us were wearing colors, but parents still pulled their kids to the side and cars steered clear.
Tig turned down an older street and I followed him up a hill and into an abandoned parking lot. A sign, broken neon and a font reminiscent of the 1970s spelled out "Charming Motorsports Park," a few letters either broken or missing. The parking lot was cracked, weeds growing up everywhere and trash collected against the curb. Tig stopped in front of the decrepit structure that held the ticket booth and seating. I pulled up beside him and idled. He smiled at me, then gestured to the structure.
"You good?" he asked.
I nodded. Tig smiled.
"The parking lot is a mess, but the track is in a lot better shape. We can let loose on it," he said over the noise of the bikes.
I nodded.
"We're not going to get in trouble for trespassing?" I asked.
Tig let out a laugh.
"Sweetheart, this town is on the Sons of Anarchy's payroll. Besides, we ain't harming nothin'," he said.
I smiled. Tig revved his engine and waved for me to follow. I put my bike in gear and followed him through a breezeway that led to a walkway, which led to the track. The place was in bad shape. Broken seats, trash and scattered glass. The green was a stock car graveyard, and lights and signs were dirty and broken. However, from what I could see as I pulled out onto the track, there were hardly any cracks or holes to speak of.
Tig parked his bike at the side of the track and dismounted. I watched him curiously as he approached me.
"Take it easy on the first lap. I haven't been out here in a long time, so I don't know how the track is. Be careful," he warned.
I nodded and revved my engine before pulling out and scouting out the track. I pushed the bike to about 35 miles per hour as I explored. The track was not long like some sort of professional racing track, but it was enough to stretch my legs and put the bike through its paces.
When I completed the track, I counted no holes and only a handful of cracks. All harmless. So, when I crossed the finish line, I pushed the speed. At 60, I felt my adrenaline begin to pump, pushing my farther. At 90, I forgot the world around me. When I pushed past that, I remembered why I loved riding, why I loved being around motorcycles and bikers, why I ever wanted to be a part of a club, and why I was still here. This was my world. The wind hitting my face, the shrill sound of a speeding bike. Nothing could bring me out of it. The only thing that had ever penetrated the peaceful noise was Zero's laugh. As I rounded the turn, I imagined something a little different. I imagined a bunch of men in blacked-out reapers, Juice and I protecting them as we drove through the Californian countryside, a dream finally coming true. In that moment of daydreaming, all fear and pain was gone. All that existed was bliss.
Tig stared in awe at the little black rocket whizzing around the oval. He could not believe how she handled the monster beneath her at the speed she was racing at. She had found her place in the world again, and Tig did not have to see her face to know she was happy. He had seen her in severe physical and emotional pain. He had seen all of his club in pain. Fighting sadness. Dealing with loss. He knew only one solution for his brothers, and that was a ride. No matter what kind of shit they were going through, none of that passed through their minds as they sped down the highway. It was where they were meant to be, and he could see it clear as day that their little sister was no different. Tig had seen only a few truly beautiful things in his lifetime. His daughters' smiles. His girlfriend's love. Jax's boys. Seeing his rescued Pit Bull, Bonnie, healthy again. He could even consider his relationship with his brothers a beautiful thing, but seeing Callie, who he would adopt in a heartbeat if he could, find her happy place again, knowing what she has been through, silenced the noise in his mind. He was proud of her, and quickly called Chibs.
"Yeah?" Chibs asked when he answered.
"You gotta come see this, man. This is incredible," he said.
"What is it? Where are ya, brother?" Chibs asked.
"The old race track. Just get out here. Bring Juice with you," he replied.
Chibs did not question it, and agreed before hanging up. For the next 45 minutes, Tig watched Callie's confidence levels boost until she was performing small tricks at high speeds. Drifting, using no hands, pushing herself. Tig could not help but smile.
Chibs and Juice arrived at the Motorsports Park and parked their bikes outside. The two worriedly strode through the breezeway in search of Tig, Chibs more worried than Juice. The younger man had been confused by Chibs' sudden rush to get to the park, and as he followed the speeding President through downtown Charming, he imagined of all the possible and impossible scenarios they would meet when they arrived. He had no idea what was going on, but by the fear on the older man's face, he knew it could not be good. He did not know that Chibs was overreacting.
Chibs had no idea what came over him when Tig asked him to come to the track. He thought only the worst. He blamed it on being a natural pessimist, but he knew what Tig had planned for Callie, and every time he brought it up, Callie went from talkative to dead silent, and took an hour or so to come back around. It scared her, and Chibs knew she was scared. He really wanted to be the one to help her get back on the bike, but Tig was currently the only one available, and he was a little bit better at the encouragement thing than he was. He had no doubt that Tig would be able to help, but when the call came through, he panicked. It did not occur to him that Tig would never had asked for Juice if something bad had happened.
"Ya hear that?" Juice asked as they walked towards the direction of the track.
There were a million things running through the President's mind. So many horrible endings playing out at once, inhibiting his ability to hear the world around him. He and Juice stopped to listen, hearing the wind carry the familiar sound of a motorcycle. Chibs tapped Juice's arm and they jogged out to the walkway. On the track, Chibs saw the black blur, and relief washed over him. Juice grabbed his arm and pointed to the VP keeping a watchful eye on the Scout.
Chibs shot down the walkway, Juice hot on his heels. Tig looked up to see his brothers approaching him, noticing how flushed Chibs' cheeks were.
"Holy shit," he and Juice said in unison.
"Told you," Tig said smugly.
"How did ya do it?" Juice asked.
Tig shrugged.
"Meh. A little coaxing and self-esteem was all she needed. She knows what she's doing," he replied.
"I can see that," Chibs said, his voice deadpan as he watched her speed around the track.
Tig smirked at his brother.
"She's a wicked little speed demon, Chibby," he said, low enough so Juice could not catch wind.
He grinned when he saw Chibs' cheeks flush. A half-drunken confession to his VP had caused nonstop teasing. Tig found endless ways to get a rise out of Chibs' fantasy, and he loved every second of it. Chibs wished he had never said a word. He had already said too much to Callie in the truck. Tig knowing what he thought was the last thing he needed. However, it made no difference to Tig. He saw it all. Chibs' face lighting up. The tinge of pink on Callie's cheeks. Venus had thought it was cute. It made Tig happy and nauseous all at once.
"She's in full swing, man. Ready to ride with us. And Juice, we're getting ya one of those damn bikes. They ride quiet the slower they go. Black as night. Perfect Scout bike," he said.
Juice's eyes lit up, and the 34 year old became a 14 year old at Christmas all over again.
"Really?" he asked.
"Aye," Chibs said, not being able to look away from Callie, "Tiggy's right. We'll find ya good deal."
Juice gave the older men a boyish smile. Chibs looked down at him and smiled.
"Go flag her in, Juicey," he said, rubbing the back of the boy's head affectionately.
Juice happily obeyed, jogging down the walkway and up the fence against the track, waving Callie down with one of his leather gloves. Chibs watched as she saw him and geared the bike down.
"I'm really proud of her," Tig said to Chibs.
Chibs nodded.
"Me too," he said softly.
When Callie pulled over, and greeted Juice, Chibs went down to talk to her. Tig stayed, smiling to himself.
"That was amazing! How fast were you going?" Juice asked excitedly as he hugged me.
I shrugged.
"Wasn't really paying attention," I replied.
Juice smiled.
"Well, I'm glad you're back on," he said.
I smiled and nodded.
"Yeah," I said quietly, "Me, too."
Chibs appeared behind Juice, and Juice moved to the side. Chibs didn't say anything, and really didn't have to. As soon as I was within arms reach, I was pulled hard into a hug. I put my arms tightly around him and felt his hand cradle the back of my head.
"Proud of ya, love," he said quietly.
My mouth was pressed into the leather covering his shoulder, and I smiled into it.
"Thank-you," I murmured.
Chibs let go of me and tossed an arm around my shoulder.
"You'll be able to ride with us now," Juice said, eyes and face lit up like he had been awarded a million dollars.
"Yeah, and not a moment too soon," Tig said, jogging down to us with his cell phone in his hand, "That was Álvarez. Said he has footage of some punks stealing shit from Diosa."
And there went the happiness of the celebration.
"Shit!" Chibs growled.
"Gang-related?" Juice asked.
Tig shrugged.
"Wasn't totally sure. Whoever they were, they were brown," he replied.
Chibs nodded.
"No doubt it's Mayan business," he said.
"Gotta protect our girls, though," Tig said softly.
Chibs nodded.
"I know. 'Kay. Juice, you and Callie head up there. Scout it out. Lay low. When we arrive, keep to the shadows. Stay safe," he said.
Juice and I nodded.
"I'll round up the guys," Tig said.
Juice tapped my shoulder.
"I'll meet ya in the parking lot," he said.
I nodded, and he and Tig moved to leave. Chibs turned to me.
"You got this, Callie girl?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Absolutely," I replied.
Chibs nodded and kissed my cheek. We then parted, and I climbed back on my bike, following Tig back up the walkway. To my surprise, and maybe it was my adrenaline, but I was not in the least bit nervous about this. I had been on runs like this before, but I did not feel scared.
I felt ready.