Tig was nonplussed by Juice's haggard appearance,
the dust on his clothes, the already-purpling bruises on his neck.
"You clotheslined yourself?"
He laughed as Chibs tried to keep him still long enough to inspect
the wounds, yanking at his hoodie.
"You jackass!"
Juice shrugged this off, both Chib's hands and Tig's name calling.
"Wha' were you doin' out here?"
"I told you-I had to take a piss-"
"No, out here, Juicey-boy."
Chibs made sure to add emphasis this time and Ortiz couldn't pretend to misunderstand.
"Took a drive-had to clear my head."
Chibs didn't respond.
There had been a lot of this from Juice lately…something was up.
Now, though, they didn't have time to stand around grabassing,
they had to get back before their VP lost his shit on them.
"We needed you at the clubhouse. We're on lockdown, or had you forgotten?"
Chibs scolded, his accent coming out heavier than ever, marking him clearly upset.
"Drive the truck, idiot." Tig told him, still laughing.
"We're heading back."
Juice didn't argue, just climbed up into the cab and started the engine.
Juice also didn't remove his hood, not even once he was on the open road,
Chibs couldn't help but notice as he glanced into his rearview at the young man.
He'd have to keep a closer eye on that boy.