Be warned, the beginning is slightly gruesome . . . poor, poor girl . . .

Ripley stepped carefully around the body of the fourth victim, trying her hardest to not focus on the terror evident in the girl's fixed sightless eyes. They'd found her early this morning . . . and she had no fucking clue what they were going to do. This girl was just barely outside of the Charming city limits . . . and this guy-whoever he was- was getting bolder. A lot bolder.

The girl had been almost cleaved completely in-two while the rest of her limbs were barely still attached . . . . Actually, the only thing keeping them from being totally separated were the actual tendons and ligaments that had escaped being cut. And judging by the way the left arm was dangling they weren't going to last much longer. The oddest thing about this was the girl had been practically crucified . . . hanging from the back of the junked tow truck, barely suspended by the chains and large hooks that had been speared through her back. She was suddenly glad that none of the guys had come with her . . . because she knew they wouldn't let her stay active if they saw this.

She swallowed the bile trying to rise in her throat, forcing herself to stay calm as she stepped up and onto the flatbed portion of the truck. The intestines were hanging, arranged to drape around the genital area like a fucking skirt with pieces hanging onto the bed of the vehicle. This case had officially moved up into her top ten worst ever. And she had a feeling it would keep climbing.

She stepped closer, careful to keep her feet off of the entrails as she moved to examine the remains. Trammel was already puking in the bushes while Unser and Hale were keeping a pretty good distance from the whole thing. Actually, the only person brave enough to come any closer that twenty feet, was the green Assistant Medical Examiner from Lodi. Jordan Nickels . . . a very sweet kid that was very, very pale at the moment. But he kept taking pictures and making notes into the tape recorder . . . stopping every few minutes to gag before manning up and continuing. She would remember to keep a close eye on him. Anybody willing to push through this level of horror in their first month was worth noticing.

She felt her stomach churn as she saw the cervix, clearly visible considering the amount of damage to abdominal cavity and the removal of the intestines . . . Bright blue. She closed her eyes. Turning away from the corpse long enough to gather herself. But it was long enough that Unser noticed.

He and Hale both started a slow trek towards her, Hale watching her cautiously as Unser kept shaking his head. When they were close enough to shout they stopped. Ripley glared at Hale. The man had treated her like crap when he found out that she'd returned to her SAMCRO roots . . . and she had been overly cold with him. The only piece of evidence she'd tampered with hadn't led to anything but a dead Mayan fucking a whore in a report. She shook her head, still amazed that she'd been so taken with Tig even then . . . and now he shared her bed almost every night. She'd even told him to not renew his lease and just move in with her if he wanted . . . something he'd been slowly doing anyway.

Unser's question brought her out of her reverie . . . and right back into glaring at Hale when she noticed the look he was giving her. Today was one of her off days . . . and she'd been out and about with Lyla when they'd called. She knew the dark skinny jeans and form fitting black turtleneck sweater weren't what she normally wore . . . or the gray leather riding boots with the ruffles going up the side to stop at her knees. But she was allowed to dress differently when she wasn't at the damn morgue. Her glasses went to slip and she pushed them back up with a gloved finger, grimacing as she noticed the red smear on the side of her nose.

Today was just getting better and better . . .

"What's up Doc?"

She sighed, turning back to the corpse.

"Same MO as the others . . . but the mutilation is more aggressive. Same small caliber bullet wounds to the head and neck . . . but this was one is different, Chief."

Hale huffed, stepping a bit closer before stepping back as the wind shifted directions. She couldn't help the mean spirited smirk that spread across her lips at his greening complexion. Poor little boy wanted to play super cop but he couldn't stomach the things that went with it. This case would probably draw FBI attention now . . . if not for sure when another poor girl popped up. She looked to the girl's face, knowing she seemed veryfamiliar . . . but then again after the first three the small differences that made them separate people had melted into nothing until all that remained in the forefront where the similarities . . . but still . . . She knew this girl.

"She's a little older . . . though not by much. And she was pregnant."

Hale stopped, going white as a ghost as Unser cursed, running a hand over his balding head. His hair hadn't started growing back yet . . . and she was beginning to wonder how strong his chemo treatments were . . . or if he was still taking them. He looked back up, more than a little upset at that piece of information.

"You sure Doc?"

Hale jumped in, ready to ask a million questions.

"How can you tell?"

She turned, raising a brow before rolling her eyes and pointing to the indicators.

"The widening of the pelvic bone usually only happens months before or right after childbirth. The degree tells me she wasn't very far along, maybe two months but I'll need to run tests to get a definite answer . . . But the cervix doesn't lie. They're blue. That only happens with one thing boys . . ."

Unser nodded as Hale closed his eyes, lips moving in a silent prayer. Ripley sighed, shaking her head. This just got a whole lot more complicated than it had before she'd answered the phone.

Gemma and the others watched Tig pace the hospital waiting room, not the least bit concerned that he looked like a lunatic. Jax and Opie had gone out to try and find Ripley but she wasn't answering the phone. No matter what number called. Something that had Tigger up in arms seeing as in Chibs was in surgery as they sat here . . . fighting for his life after the nice little car bomb ordeal.

She sighed, watching Bobby try and talk to him only to get snapped at before Clay clamped a hand on his shoulder. She knew Tig was worried, hell they all were, but he needed to get a grip on this or he was going to get hit. The sound of the door opening caused all of them to turn, Tig's neck almost breaking with the speed his eyes landed on Jax as he pushed into the room, followed by Tara.

Tig's eyes narrowed on Tara and Gemma had to wonder what it was about . . . before Jax spoke up and brought them back to the present.

"Opie called Unser and found Ripley. Seems she's at a crime scene. Another girl and worse than the others . . . right outside of Charming. Ope's gonna wait with her while she does what she's got to . . . and then he's bringing her here . . ."

Gemma watched every bit of tension drain from Tig's shoulders as he digested the news. He nodded, sagging into the seat beside Bobby and clapping his shoulder apologetically. She shook her head. Tig wasn't one to fly off the handle, despite his random and crazy acts. So for him to act like this . . . she looked to Clay, her eyes catching his as he smirked and shrugged.

At least he thought it was a good thing . . .

Tara's voice, however, brought the malice right back to his eyes as she told them about Chibs.

"He's in surgery . . . and as stable as we can get him. But there's a bleed in his brain. Hopefully, it'll take care of itself but if it doesn't we'll have to go in and relieve the pressure."

Clay and the others stilled, the knowledge that their brother was hurt and badly settling on all of them hard. She sighed, looking to Jax. Her boys were going to do something very; very stupid . . . she could just feel it . . .

Ripley glanced at the time as she paced her bedroom, more than a little worried. Opie had followed her to the hospital before going to the Club with the others . . . and Tig had barely let her out of his sight before he'd had to leave . . . but not in the way she'd wanted him to. Chibs had come out of surgery and was stable but critical for the next twenty four hours . . . something she had been banking on after Opie had filled her in. So she'd been expecting the concerned faces and overall undertone of pure sorrow and anger when she'd walked in . . . but not the tongue lashing she got from her boyfriend.

She'd barely been in the damn door before he'd dug into her, glaring at her coldly as he practically gave her the SAMCRO version of the Spanish Inquisition. Which, with what she'd just picked up and had to write down had been a very bad idea on his part. The others had watched them fight like they were terrified to move until Clay and Gemma had stepped forward to the try and separate them.

Tig's parting words though had been like salt in a wound . . .

"Goddamn it, Little Girl! Do you have any idea how stupid it is to not answer that fucking phone? With everything going on I don't need to worry about you on top of it! Jesus Christ how can someone so fucking brilliant be so fucking stupid?"

She closed her eyes now, trying to fight off the tears threatening to spill in the safety of her own home. She knew now that he was just worried and reacting badly to the stress . . . but she hadn't been in a very forgiving state of mind then. So she'd risen to his challenge. And very quietly, while Gemma held Tig back and Clay kept himself between them, she'd talked to him the same way she had Tara. No emotion and no regard for the damage she was doing.

"I didn't do anything but go to work, Tig. You know that thing I do for a fucking living? I did it long before you and I will do it after you, too. And as far as you having to worry about me . . . don't . . . there's no need for you to concern yourself with me or anything to do with me. I'm going home . . ."

Which is exactly where she'd been for the past five hours. And she hadn't heard shit from him or any of the others . . . something that terrified her to death. Finally, she gave up trying to stay at the house and went into her closet. She pulled on a pair of loose cropped jeans and one of Tig's dark blue wife beaters-refusing to let the sight of his things hanging in her closet stab her heart like it wanted to- before shrugging into her burgundy zip up hoodie. She slid her feet into her flip flops before grabbing her keys and going towards the Chevelle. She would call Gemma and they could at least sit together as they waited . . . and if Clay was with her-and she found him at the Club surrounded by Croweaters- then she and Tig Trager were done. No matter how much she loved him she was not putting up with this . . .

Tara watched Ripley and Gemma sit in the office of Teller Morrow Automotive and listen to Rosen, neither of their faces showing the shock she knew they were all feeling. Clay, Jax, Tig, Juice and Bobby had been arrested . . . and Opie was out and doing things on this side of the fence trying to help them. Jesus . . . how in the world were they both so damn calm?

Ripley seemed more at ease than Gemma, her fingering the ring on her left hand ever-so-often the only indication that this man wasn't telling them about the price of rice in China . . . She shook her head. She knew Ripley had always been a hard ass, even when they were younger . . . Hell, she'd saved her ass a few times when she'd gone to fight over Jax. But to see it here, now that they were adults was just eerie . . . the same way that she felt when Tig had glared at her yesterday.

"The bail is probably astronomical . . . but I think my house should do it . . ."

Tara looked up, nodding as she agreed with Gemma.

"Mine too . . ."

Rosen shook his head, scratching his brow with his thumb before looking at them.

"That would be enough for Clay, Gemma. Maybe Jax . . . the bail is . . . the bail is almost undoable."

"What about my property? The house and the acreage that goes with it? That's over seventy acres . . . it should be enough, with the others right?"

Rosen sighed before shaking his head.

"Sorry, Ms. Shaw but no. With both Tig and Bobby's priors . . . and the attack being on a church group . . . no judge is going to let them just walk away free. Not with separate bails like that. It's all together or nothing. Jacob Hale's friend is hearing the case . . ."

Gemma swore while Ripley closed her eyes and Tara just wanted to cry.

They were so screwed . . .