Disclaimer: Sigh. Disclaim.
Chibs yawned and stretched taking a break from the vintage rust bucket of a Harley he had been working on. Since Shannon's call he'd only successfully had a few hours of sleep here and there. Gemma had no sympathy for his exhaustion when they were so far behind at the shop. Back in his dorm room Lynn was where he'd left her hours before, fast asleep with Dotty. He wanted nothing more than to finish up his work and join them.
He'd only managed a few hours of sleep after he returned with Jax from their visit with Chief Charlie Horse. The VP and he had to make new plans and assure that the original venue was still set. The original site was a failed Hale investment. A beautiful large log cabin in a meadow surrounded by the picturesque Redwoods. The secluded locale made it ideal for Johnnie Chains' tournament. The venue failed because it stank to high hell. When the wind blew right, the stench from a local paper mill overwhelmed the area. In the cabin, it wasn't typically an issue, but the meadow where most nuptials would take place was not immune to the odor. Lynn did her part earlier, having placed a call to an eager wedding planner, playing the part of blushing bride, validating available upcoming dates.
Chibs pumped his fist in victory when he finally got the engine to turn over. He deposited the clipboard in the office in the 'finished' pile and headed off for a much needed shower.
Freshly clean he crawled into bed with his Old Lady, molding his body to hers. A contended sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and drew in the scent of her hair. Lynn turned slightly. "I missed you, Baby." She whispered. He pulled her closer in response and simply kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder, too exhausted to do or say any more.
Chibs was unaware of how much time had passed when he was startled awake by a pounding on the door. Even more startling was a beagle trampling his testicles in a hurry to jump down from the bed and bark at the sound. He grumbled in pain and annoyance, looking at the clock, having only snagged 3 more hours of sleep.
Clay's voice boomed through the silence. "Up and at 'em. We got a call from Chains."
Lynn spoke though a yawn. "Damn, that was fast. Hasn't even been 48 hours."
After indulging a brief delusion that he could stay in bed, Chibs got back to his feet. He searched the ground and drawers for clean clothes, trying not to trip over the excited beagle snaking around his legs. He scooped up the dog and placed her back in bed with her 'mom'. "Go back to sleep, Lovely. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Be safe, I love you." She accepted the tender kiss he offered.
"Not as much as I love you." He responded. Stepping out into the clubhouse he was greeted by Tig with a steaming mug of coffee. "Bless you."
"It's you and me, Chibby. Ready to go see Chains do some nasty shit?" Tig was damn near giddy. Chibs wondered when and why he'd become the official emissary to Johnnie Chains. The entire club had dealings with the bookie in the past, but for some reason all things Chains always fell on Chibs.
The coffee burned his tongue as he drank it too fast, eager for the jolt of energy from the caffeine. Chibs shook his head as if trying to shake away the cobwebs in his brain. "You're driving." Chibs stated as he slammed the empty mug down on the nearest flat surface.
**SOA**SOA**SOA**
They heard the crack of a driven golf ball followed by a scream as they were escorted by a particularly ugly one of Johnnie Chains' minions. The man's craggy face and crooked nose were almost difficult to look at. The troll-like man gestured towards where Johnnie chewed on a cigar and was now lining up his next drive. "Just you and Ralphy boy, huh?" The man chained to the Redwood whimpered, nodding his head. Chibs recognized him, his name was something childish like Skippy, a lower level collector attempting to work his way up to enforcer.
Johnnie balked a swing, causing the bound man to cry out in fear. "I swear to you. I thought he was still square with you. I didn't know he was out of the loop. I had no idea I was speaking out of turn."
Chibs shook head, knowing that the man tied to the tree had said the wrong thing.
Johnnie squared his shoulders and faced his rat. "You NEVER talk about my business. No conversations amongst friends." The Bookie sneered the last word. "Not to your mama, not to your daddy, not to Brock" he angled his head towards the troll at the mention of the final name "and not even to me. I talk about my business and you listen. If someone is not in earshot of ME talking about MY business, they have no reason to know." Spit flung from Johnnie's lips as he shouted the final sentence. With surprising accuracy and speed Johnnie struck the golf ball. The white orb hit the target in his right eye. There was a sickening amount of viscous liquid that sluiced from the socket. 'Skippy' wailed and sobbed.
Tig clapped his hands together, cheering with glee. "Woah! Nice freaking shot Johnnie! That is PGA accuracy there."
The rage slid away briefly from Johnnie Chains' face as he took a half bow towards the new arrivals. Chibs felt a strange twinge of shame as he noticed that he had a smirk of his own face. He did love seeing a rat get what was coming to him. He'd be a liar if he told himself that he didn't enjoy the violence, dishing it out and watching those suffer that deserved it. There was a rush he couldn't deny, he felt a chill down his spine when he imagined how horrified Lynn would be with him. The only solace he found was that he had not quite reached Tig's level of 'erection by depravity'.
"So what do we know?" Chibs asked, pulling a cigarette free from his pack.
"No one else was involved, so says Skip," Johnnie spit on the ground at the name "apparently he didn't know Ralph was out of my favor. Which I find to be BULLSHIT!" Johnnie emphasized the last word.
Between sobs Skip repeated. "I didn't know… I didn't know."
"As I was saying, that's probably bullshit. Ralph's been rogue for months. Since we know from our little birdie Shannon that Ralph has been feeding information to California Gaming and the Sheriff I need to know what other 'chats' Skip has had with Ralph regarding my current business." Johnnie flicked the growing ash off of his cigar.
A despaired wail came from the tree. "Nothing else, I swear! I barely talked to Ralph. He only wanted to know about the tournament!"
Johnnie ignored the cries, handing the large headed club to Tig. "How's your aim?"
The begging intensified from the tree. "No, no, no please no. Johnnie please." Tears streamed from the eye that was not ruined.
Tig took a moment to rub his hands together, warming them up and shook out his arms. "Fore!" He yelled out as he swung the driver. He connected solidly with the ball but the aim was off. The ball sailed three feet wide of the target. After several missed attempts Tig screamed in frustration. Oblivious to the quiet murmurs between Chibs and Johnnie behind him. "That's it! I'm going to shove this goddamn thing up his ass." Tig turned over the club in his hands and pointed the narrow end at the man chained to the tree.
"Slow down, Tiggy." Chibs held up a hand.
Tig looked like a disappointed child. While he was swinging away Chibs and Johnnie determined that they just need to get their hands on Ralph. Eliminate the direct source of information that could be damaging to both SAMCRO and Johnnie Chains' organization. Regardless of what Skip had to say the damage was done.
Tig busied himself throwing a ball in the air and attempting to hit it baseball style. When he successfully made contact not only with the ball but also striking Skip he let out a joyful woot, looking around to see if anyone saw his small victory.
Johnnie sent a nod to Brock. The hideous man responded immediately by sending a bullet through Skip's brain. The two bikers and the bookie wandered away leaving Brock to clean up the mess. Chibs relayed to Johnnie the plan to maintain the original venue to divert Ralph and the law.
"SAMCRO better not fuck this up." Johnnie exclaimed. "You're asking me to sit quietly by for five damn days until the poker tournament, when I could have the police around any corner." Johnnie ground his cigar out against a tree. "I have some legitimate and imminent concerns here, Chibs."
Tig interjected. "Chains man, may I remind you that we are the clean up crew here. Your guy squealed and is bringing all this shit down on both of our heads."
Johnnie reclaimed his driver from Tig and seemed to calm a bit. "I know." He shook his head clearing some anger and released a long sigh. "I know. The Sons have the lead on this. You clean this up, and keep my event intact, I'll throw another 10% your way." They sealed the agreement with a handshake. Johnnie Chains pulled Chibs closer. "If this goes pear shaped in any way and it's you that will be chained up to a Redwood next, understood?"
Author's Note:I'm trying to wrap this story up.I really am.Don't know why it's taking so long to post.I'll try harder, I promise.