This is a pretty action packed chapter so I really hope you all like it. Also, if you haven't already take a look at the set of one shots I'm posting in connection with this story. I'm taking requests for missing moments so let me know if you've got an idea.

Thanks to all my reviewers and enjoy.

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"Wake up." The gruff, heavily accented voice cuts through the last vestiges of Leila's hard earned sleep. Juice had finally passed out on the bar and with Tig drunk in his dorm she had been without a bed. She'd tried Chibs' door but found it very firmly locked, not surprising. She had no idea what Tig had walked in on the night before but considering his reaction she had no doubt it was revealing. She stares up at the very angry looking Scot standing over her, yes, it must have been very revealing.

"What do you want?" There is no softness to her voice; she is tired of letting him be in charge.

"Yer on my jumper. I need it." So she is. She doesn't remember where she found the ratty black hoodie but it had smelled like him so she'd used it as a pillow. She feels like a love-sick teenager. The toe of his scuffed riding boot taps in impatience and she has apparently taken too long to move because he just rips the cloth out from under her head.

"Jesus, you don't have to be an ass about it. Where are you going?" She watches in unabashed appreciation as his t-shirt rides up during his stretch to pull the sweater on revealing a sliver of toned stomach.

"I'm off to do some very dull recon."

"Why will it be dull?"

"Newest brothers get the worst jobs."

"What about the prospect, his job should be worse still."

He laughs at that. "Aye, he's stuck tailing Gemma. When did yeh get so optimistic?"

"I don't know. Can I come?"

"What?" He's bent sideways checking the fit of his shoulder holster.

"Can I come with you?" She doesn't know why she wants to go but there's nothing better to do and any time spent pressed up against him on the back of a bike will not be time wasted.

He studies her for a long moment with hard eyes and he must find what he's looking for because he nods once. "Why not. Yer to keep quiet and do what I say." She scoffs.

"No problem there, seems to be the story of my life these days." He just gives her a gruff shake of the head.

"Dress warm it's gotten colder." Yes, she thinks, it has.

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Chibs hadn't been exaggerating when he said it had gotten colder, Leila didn't even know California got this cold. She is pressed tight against him and has buried her face in his back; she can't feel her nose. He takes pity on her as they brake for a light and his hands fall down to rub up and down her thighs.

"Yeh okay Leila-Luv?" She just nods into his leather. She doesn't know when she became so desperate for his touch but she's not going to risk complaining now.

It takes another thirty minutes to roll to a stop near the abandoned warehouse they're supposed to be investigating. It's a massive compound on the edge of Lodi and as Leila stares down at the dilapidated structure she wonders why the club thinks anyone would hide out here. She figures Chibs must have had a similar thought since he agreed to bring her along. Even so, they approach the chain link fence that surrounds the property slow and quiet.

Chibs is off the bike as soon as the kickstand hits the ground and Leila shifts awkwardly on the bitch seat watching as he pulls a giant set of bolt cutters out of one saddlebag. The rusted metal of the fence gives way like butter and it only takes seconds for a hole large enough for the Scot to have appeared. He looks tense, she can see the muscles in his shoulders bunching under his shirt and his eyes never leave the building in front of them. "Take these," he's holding out the bolt cutters, "don't leave the bike. I'll be right back." She slides off the dyna and takes the heavy hardware from him. He doesn't spare her another glance as he slides through the fence, moving in a crouch towards the back of the building. It's broad daylight and he stands out against the pavement like a sore thumb. At least he remembered to take off his club colors.

If Leila had known her job would be to guard the bike she wouldn't have come. She'd watched him slide into the back of the closest building, revolver drawn, but that had been twenty minutes ago and she was now bored. The warehouses before her were still and she was pretty sure she could see significant fire damage on the largest one. No one was going to hide here.

She lets her mind wander to the conversation with Juice the night before. She'd felt bad for the prospect as she'd watched him drink himself to sleep, scared of what was coming next. The incident at the hospital had really shaken him up and she'd listened quietly, her stomach churning, while he quietly admitted that he'd never killed a man and he was terrified that she'd had to. Apparently that meant his time was coming soon. Leila wonders how long it will take for killing to become just another part of his life. How long until Juice is just a little Tig? The thought is bitter in her mouth.

She is so deep in her thoughts on the matter that she doesn't see the black SUV until it is pulling to a stop in front of the farthest building. She watches with a pounding heart as five heavily armed men climb out and then, and then suddenly he's there. Even from great distance Leila recognizes the set of his shoulders, and she imagines she can see his hard green eyes, eyes so rare in a brown face. Jorge. Shit, shit, shit. Her mind rushes into overdrive and she is torn between rushing after Chibs and starting up the bike to make her own escape. Chibs wins, hands down.

She is completely unarmed, not having had time to get a new gun from Tig after the hospital but it doesn't matter. She rushes through the fence and across the pavement, careful to keep out of sight. The men from the SUV are starting towards the door of the closest warehouse; the one Chibs had disappeared into just minutes ago. By the time she eases herself silently through the backdoor she can already hear heavily accented voices coming from the front of the building. Fuck. Where are you Chibs? The structure is huge, several stories tall with hanging metal walkways and it's filled with cargo containers, stacked and stored. She'll never manage to find the Scot in time. It occurs to her that she might die here, but she forges on slipping quietly into the darkened room, using the containers for cover.

She moves as far into the grand space as she dares but stills when the voices from the front become clear.

"We'll take it all."

"Where to boss?"

"We're moving to the Modesto site."

Modesto? Jorge must really be on the run either that or the Mayans are looking to invest in some new territory. Both options are dangerous. Leila is just turning to head back towards the exit when the arm slides around her waist, she starts to scream but a hand clamps over her mouth and she is forced against the side of a shipping container. She struggles wildly until Chibs' angry eyes come into focus and she sags against him in relief. He nods up and when her eyes follow his and she spots the armed man pacing the walkway above them, it's like someone dumped cold water down her back. She knows her eyes must go wide above the Scot's hand because of the smug look on his face.

He puts a finger to his lips and she nods in agreement. His hand slides away from her face and nods towards the backdoor. One of his warm hands finds hers and they start their slow and silent move towards safety. Leila's entire body feels stiff with fear and she's following Chibs' lead careful to muffle her footsteps. They turn the last corner and Leila feels her whole body relax at the sight of the door, safety.

The sound of Chibs' boot hitting the edge of the metal container is deafening, it fills the entire space and Leila feels her entire body tighten as the sound drifts into a significant silence. For one blissful moment the entire world stops and Leila feels optimism blossoming in her chest but the shout that goes up behind them leaves no doubt as to their current predicament. There's another beat and then, "Fuck!," Chibs' voice startles her into motion even as the first of the gunshots ping off the shipping container near her head. And then they are running.

She is certain the boxer is going to dislocate her shoulder the way he's pulling on her as he rushes them towards the door. The shouts get louder behind them and as they burst into the brightness of the afternoon and Leila is painfully aware of the bullets hitting the door behind them. Chibs puts on a burst of speed and she feels like a ragdoll as she tries to force her smaller legs to keep up with his bounding strides. There's a loud bang from their backs and Leila hears the tell tale pitter-patter of bullets showering the pavement behind them.

She can see the bike waiting patiently on the other side of the cut fence and Leila forces herself to find the energy to make the last few feet. Her jeans catch on the chain link and Chibs pulls her forward with such force she's certain he's going to rip her in half. As it is the denim gives way and Leila feels the sharp sting of metal slicing through skin but she has no time to worry about this newest injury because the Scot is forcing her onto the back of the bike, and before she's even wrapped her arms around him the dyna roars to life and they shoot away. She doesn't look back as they take the turn onto the highway without slowing; she has no desire to know if they're being chased.

They fly down the stretch of highway towards Charming and Leila keeps her eyes closed against the blur of the world. They have to be going at least a hundred and despite the near death experience Leila is terrified the Scot is going to lay the bike down as he zooms between cars. Even with her fear she knows they are slowing much too soon and she feels her heart jump when she realizes they're leaving the interstate. She is helpless to do anything but hang on as the Scot pulls them down a slow side street. They are still in the industrial district and Chibs is taking soft turns between the standing warehouses. He finally turns them into a secluded alley between two abandoned looking buildings and when he cuts the engine the silence is heavy.

A terrifying thought occurs to her, "Oh my god Chibs, are you, were you hit?"

He doesn't answer and for a moment she thinks maybe he can't. There are images of the foreign biker dying in her arms flashing through her mind and as a result she is caught completely off guard when he suddenly moves. Grabbing her violently, he lifts her off the bike and she is slammed against the far wall, her head hits the cinderblocks with a painful crack.

"What the-" An arm shoved against her throat cuts off her ability to speak and Leila is already seeing stars as she stares up at his face struggling for breath. His eyes scream murder.

"What the bloody hell were yeh thinking." His voice is low but deadly, "what did I tell yeh to do? What?" He punctuates the question with a violent shake and with every convulsion her head hits against the wall. She lets out a choking sound against his arm and he releases her throat. "Well?" He is waiting for an answer.

"Don't leave the bike," it hurts to talk and she is desperate to reach a hand up and massage her throat but he's got her by the arms now and she can feel his hands digging in with bruising force.

"That's fucking right," he growls the words into her face and she shakes against him.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "I saw them pull up and I came to get you."

"Yer a bloody fucking stupid woman. Dangerous too. Got a death with do yeh Leila." He shakes her again and she is terrified.

"I, I," She has no idea what to do in the wake of this anger

"Shut up." His voice is steel and he's staring down at her with cold eyes. She knows what she must look like, dirty tear stained face, pale with fear and anger. His eyes soften just a bit, "Oh fuck me," the words leave him like a plea, his breath hot against her face.

His lips capture hers with bruising force and there's nothing sweet or reassuring about this kiss, it's all brute strength and anger. He doesn't ask for permission, just bites at her bottom lip and then his tongue is there, forcing it's way into her mouth. She all but climbs him in response, body surging forward and she hooks one leg over his hip forcing him closer. She moves her mouth against his and is rewarded with the freedom of her hands; she tangles one into his choppy hair instantly, pulling hard.

He growls into her and one hand grips her hip while the other slides under her shirt. There is no finesse to his movements as he pushes her bra out of the way and tweaks a nipple hard. She's moving against him desperately and she can feel him hard against her stomach, she breaks the kiss with a moan her hands struggling with his belt even as he bites into the skin of her neck.

Leila cries out at the feel of his teeth on her skin and she pushes up onto her toes to give him better access, her fingers abandoning the snap of his jeans. He's having none of that, and he releases her for a moment, undoing his own belt and then hers. She whines at his absence and suddenly he's there again, his hands griping her hips lifting her against the rough wall, pushing her jeans and boyshorts down as he moves. He presses against her with all his weight and the handles of his holstered knives bite into her torso. His lips find hers again and she drinks him in, desperate for more, she'll take anything he's willing to give.

She gasps when one of his hands moves between them and his fingers slide through wet folds, oh she's so ready for this. He's supporting her against the wall with one arm now and she moans long and low in her throat when he pushes one, two, fingers up into her waiting body. He must be satisfied with what he finds between her legs because his fingers slide out leaving her hollow and he trails the wet digits down her neck, his mouth following.

She shifts just a bit and he moves to meet her, his length is poised at her entrance and he is about to surge forward.

"Wait." His head snaps up at her gasped word and his eyes are feral, she can't help the shiver that slides down her spine. "What's your real name?" His smile is predatory.

"Filip Telford."

"Okay then," she nods, "go ahead." His laugh at her ridiculousness turns into a moan as he surges forward burying himself to the hilt in her welcoming body. He drops his head to her shoulder and she can just hear him muttering in what she assumes is a Gaelic because she certainly can't make out a word. He fills her completely and she can feel her inner walls stretching to accommodate his girth. She shifts her hips against his experimentally and is rewarded with a twinge of pleasure up her spine.

"Jeysus Christ," his voice is thunder as he starts to move his back snapping forward with the effort of keeping her off the ground. Leila's eyes slam shut at the force of it and she digs her nails into his shoulders leaving indents in the leather of his jacket. He's moving against her violently and despite the anxiety of the moment Leila can feel her orgasm building quickly. His face is still pressed into her shoulder and he's whispering against her skin, his hot breath spreading goosebumps in it's wake.

One of his hands finds its way back under her shirt and his fingers pull viciously at a piercing. Pain flashes through her system followed by pleasure as she comes apart against him, her body arching forward off the wall and the moan he lets out when her body squeezes tight around him reverberates through her entire form. It doesn't take long for him to follow her over, his thrusts becoming erratic and she's still pulsing from her own release when she feels him come undone inside her clenching body.

His mouth leaves a trail of sloppy kisses up her neck and when his lips find hers all of the bruising force from before is gone. He drags his mouth against hers soft and hot even as he eases her back to her feet. She finds solid ground, his now soft member slips from between her legs and she can feel their combined fluids running down her thighs. She is a sloppy, boneless mess of a woman and she loves it. Her body aches in all the right places and she knows she'll be sore tomorrow but for now she just watches Chibs unsure of what comes next.

His sudden gentleness is a sharp contrast to the violent man who just took her against a wall and Leila stays still while he pulls her pants up before fixing his own clothes.

"What now?" She asks softly because the enormity of the situation is finally starting to sink in and she's shaking violently from cold, fear, or the sex she doesn't know.

"Honestly, darlin'" he's searching her face with his now familiar intensity, "I have no idea."

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Reviews are always welcome.