Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming, they motivate me :) Hopefully I can get the next chapter up before I go to work tomorrow morning. A little teaser to the upcoming chapters: you will find out about Meg's secret. Thanks for reading!

CLAY

Clay had done everything he could, calling and visiting every contact he had, but none of them would agree to buy more guns off SAMCRO. This was a problem, as he was still bound by the deal he had made with the Irish. Retreating to his office at the house, he thought long and hard about fixing the problem. The simply truth was, the guns needed to be sold, willing or unwillingly.

He had called Tig over to the house, wanting to inform him on the plan he had made. Clay knew the plan was a little extreme, but he could not think of any other solutions and he knew Tig was loyal to him, he would do anything Clay would ask him to do.

"What's up," Tig said when he entered the office where Clay was still seated. He leaned against the desk, placing his hands besides him to support himself.

Clay took a drag from the cigar he was smoking. "We have to take care of the drug business," Clay started, filling the room with the smoke he breathed out. "No one wants to take them off our hands, but have we ever accepted no for an answer?" Tig shook his head.

"What am I gonna ask from you is a lot, I know that. But it's something that has to happen." He rested the cigar on the ashtray and leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. "You're gonna go to the 9-ers, and you're gonna tell them they are going to buy more guns from us."

"What if they can't buy them?" Tig answered, he ruffled his brows.

"They can buy them, and they will buy them," Clay continued. "If they don't, you are gonna tell them we're murdering one of the Mayans and we will frame the murder on them. With this heat they are getting from the ATF, they definitely do not want to be associated with a murder."

Tig waited a moment to reply. "You want me to bribe them?"

"That's exactly what I want you to do." Clay leaned back in his chair.

Clay knew this method was a little extreme, but the 9-ers did not form a big threat to them. He didn't fear no one, but he'd rather have the 9-ers after him, than the Mayans and the Irish. This was the only way it could work.

"Okay," Tig confirmed. As always his loyalty to Clay was profounding.

"I knew I could count on you, Tiggy," Clay smiled, stood up and walked over to Tig to give him a hand.

"When you want me to do it?" he asked.

"Today. The Irish are getting impatient."

He drove to the hospital as soon as possible after he heard Wendy had OD'd again. Instead of taking his motorcycle, he took the car. The arthritis in his hands were getting worse, and he had ridden so much today already, he couldn't take another mile. Besides, he had already sent Tig to Leroy, and he didn't want to ride alone, especially not as the president of the club.

Clay got there before after everyone else, which was exactly the way he planned it. A nurse pointed him towards the room where she was recovering from her suicide attempt. He was eager to find out what drove her over the edge again, since he knew she had promised to Jax she would go to rehab.

"Good afternoon, Wendy," he spoke, walking in the room. He could see she was still very weak, he didn't require much of her, he only needed answers.

She didn't speak, but looked him dead in the eye.

"I'm not coming to hurt you, I just need some answers," Clay explained, resting his hands on the end of Wendy's bed. "Who was behind this?"

"Behind what?" Wendy managed to stumble, her voice hoarse.

Clay wasn't stupid. She hadn't OD'd on her own. How the hell would she be able to get crank inside of a hospital without any help?

"Who gave you the crank?" he continued. "You did not buy or bring it yourself, so someone has given it to you."

Wendy sighed, but didn't reply. Clay took a few steps forward, hoping to put a little more pressure on her. "You can tell me, Wendy. Nothing will happen," he smiled as he made his promise. "I mean, you ruined it already, telling me who supplied you wouldn't do you any more harm."

Besides from the fact that she definitely wasn't working alone, he was also interested in the supplier of the crank. SAMCRO worked hard to keep drugs out of Charming, and if a dealer managed to slip past them, he needed to be taken care of.

"You promise you'll leave me alone?" Wendy asked.

Clay raised his hands. "Of course."

"It was Gemma," she spoke. "She gave me the crank, told me how I was never gonna be a mother to Abel. She wanted me to kill myself."

Clay didn't see that one coming. His wife supplied this bitch with crank?

"Are you telling the truth?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

"Yes! I would not lie, Clay," Wendy replied. Her voice sounded sincere and Clay knew she was telling the truth.

What the fuck was Gemma thinking?

Clay found his wife sitting at the dining table, going through a box of old baby photos of Jax and Thomas. He walked up behind her, and then sat down on the chair next to hers, looking at the pictures spread out on the table. He noticed none of the pictures had John Teller on them.

"Are you insane?" Clay asked, cutting right to the chase.

Gemma looked up, frowning. "What?" she snapped.

"I know about Wendy, Gem."

Gemma dropped the picture she was holding and sighed. "It had to be done," she stated.

Clay loved his wife very dearly, but sometimes he could not grasp at the things she was thinking. Getting Wendy to commit suicide would not make things better, it would rather complicate things further. If Wendy could prove it was Gemma who gave her the crank, it wouldn't be impossible for her to get custody over Abel.

"You made a mistake, Gemma," Clay told her. "It wasn't your place to do that. Jax wanted to deal with her himself. And do you have any idea what will happen if it blows back on you?!"

"Relax, she's not going to tell anyone." Gemma picked up the photo again, studying it, acting like the whole situation was not a big deal.

"She told me," Clay stated.

Gemma shrugged.

"Next time you pull something like that, tell me first, okay?" Clay took both of her hands and held them. Even though he still didn't agree with her, he didn't want to fight.

"Will do," Gemma smiled.

"Well, you better go and shoot her up again, but make sure you really kill her this time so she can't tell anyone what you did," Clay joked.