I sat on my bike and watched the exchange between Weston and the woman from child protective services. I couldn't believe a man as disgusting as him was still allowed to walk freely on the streets. Anger surged through every muscle in my body towards the modern day Nazi standing across the parking lot. I tried to keep my anger in check as the van left and we all moved towards Weston.
"I see your kids are taking that little trip I arranged for them." Jax spit at Weston.
"You did this?" Weston shot back.
"At least I didn't gang rape 'em."
My anger threatened to burst through me as I stood this close to the man I hated most in the world. I was seconds from losing control and lunging at him. Maybe Clay was right. I probably shouldn't have been here. Behind Jax's back I reached for the closest comforting thing available. Instead of reaching for my gun as I wanted to, my hand closed around Juice's warm wrist, squeezing it tight.
"…ten of my best against ten of yours. No weapons. Either me or you goes home in a bag." I tuned back into what Jax was saying.
"I'll be there." Weston stalked off towards his truck.
I let go of Juice's wrist. Now that Weston had agreed to fight tonight, I had something to look forward to. Hopefully he wouldn't split town tonight instead of showing up. If he did, I would track him down. I would have my revenge. Suddenly, my words from last night resounded in my head. When you hate someone so much for something they did to you, then you're the one that suffers. Not them. But this was different right? No, actually, it wasn't. So what did that mean? Were we just supposed to let Weston go? Not likely. But should I really forgive him for what he did to my mother? Could I? Yeah, maybe after I or someone else beat him to death. Maybe I could forgive his cold, lifeless body.
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"How'd it go?" Clay asked as we stood out in the parking lot, getting ready to go get the guns from the safe house. "How'd she do?"
"She did great. Picture of control." Juice answered and winked at me when Clay turned his back.
"That's good. But you're still gonna stay here with your mom while we do this." Clay shot at me.
My suspicions from earlier had been confirmed. He was trying to keep me out of the action.
Jax looked up at Clay with an irritated expression. "Why can't she?"
"We don't need her, she can stay here." Clay answered.
"You do need me. Chucky's gonna be calling me to let us know it's all clear." I used this lame ass attempt first, trying not to get into it with Clay today.
"And that can easily be changed. You've done enough, we can take it from here." Clay's voice had a ring of authority in it.
"Okay. Not to be rude or disrespectful or anything, but why?" I pleaded with Clay. If he wouldn't let me go to the safe house, he sure as hell wouldn't let me go meet Weston's crew tonight. That's where I really wanted to be.
Clay's shoulders fell in defeat. "You really want to know?"
"Yeah, I do." I stood my ground, waiting for his explanation.
"Because your mother has been through enough lately, and I can't imagine her grief if something happened to her little girl. I'm sure she'd feel better if you sat this one out."
"No, I wouldn't." My mother stepped out from behind Happy and Juice and walked up to Clay and I. She patted Clay's arm then turned to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. "I don't mind you going, sweetie. It's where you belong. It's your service, and I'm not going to keep you from performing your service. Just be careful, okay? And smart. Use those brains you got from your father."
I smiled at her. "Thank you."
"I love you baby girl." She hugged me tight before turning me loose.
"I love you too, mom."
I watched as she turned and shared a look with Clay.
He nodded and let the subject go. "Let's go get our guns."
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I sat on my bike with my phone in my hand, waiting on Chucky's call. Jimmy had just arrived at the safe house to pick up his guns. We all sat perched on our bikes, three blocks away, anxiously waiting on my phone to ring. Then eight motorcycle's and one van would swoop in on the safe house and take our guns back.
My phone buzzed in my hand, and I answered it before it started to ring. "Yeah?"
Chucky's voice came loud and clear from the other end. "It's all clear."
"Thanks Chucky. Good Job." I hung up and nodded at the others. The simultaneous roar of our bikes rent the air of the quiet neighborhood, then we took off for the safe house.
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I could feel the tension coming off of Chibs as he stood next to Jimmy. I now knew how hard it was for him to be around Jimmy, and I could empathize with his hatred. He still hadn't gotten vengeance for what Jimmy had done, and I couldn't imagine not getting vengeance against Zobelle and Weston.
We loaded the guns into the van and sent Happy on his way, then headed out for the camping supply store that Stahl thought Jimmy was headed to.
When we backed in in front of the store, there wasn't a soul in sight. I smiled at Chibs as we walked side by side into the store. The plan had gone seamlessly, Chibs had gotten away scot free from Stahl setting him up against Jimmy, and soon, the bitch would know she'd been had. I took his hand and squeezed it tight until several ATF agents threw themselves in the room, guns raised.
"Down on the floor, now!"
We all eased ourselves on the floor trying to hide our smirks because our plan was going so well. Other ATF agents came in from the back of the store, guiding a young Mexican man into the room.
"Where's Jimmy?" Stahl asked.
"There was no one else in the truck." The agent answered.
"Up!" Stahl yelled at us.
We slowly stood up.
"Where's Jimmy?" She was asking us this time, not her agents.
Chibs, who was standing closest to Stahl, said, "Jimmy who?"
Stahl brought her hand up and slapped Chibs across the face as hard as she could. Anger surged through me, but I didn't move. No scrawny little bitch touched my man like that.
Stahl noticed my sudden tension and looked like she wanted to smart off to me. I just smiled, which made her pissed off meter jump up a whole new level.
"Get Edmond in here!" Stahl gave up on us, and yelled for her agents to bring the rat in the store. I stared at Stahl as Edmond stumbled in the front door. Stahl motioned for her colleagues to open the crates that were brought from the SUV that supposedly held the guns, but really held nothing but two dead rats. As the crates lids were lifted off, Edmond grew pale. Chibs leaned over at him and sniffed him. The phrase, I smell a rat, ran through my mind as he did.
"Well, I guess we'll be going." Clay said from a few paces in front of me.
We all started leaving the store, but as Chibs reached Stahl, he stopped, and slowly spit a bit of bloody saliva at her feet. "You hit like a girl."
As I took my turn past Stahl, I wanted to stop and say, but I don't , and knock the shit out of her, but as that would have gotten me arrested, and kept me from the fight with Weston tonight, I kept my fist, and my mouth, in check. Hopefully I'd get my chance one day.
We left the store and headed back to the clubhouse, high on our success of gaining our guns, and excited about the meeting tonight with Weston.
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Adrenaline surged through the air as we all prepared to leave for the big event. Not only would members of a few other charters be going with us, but Lin and Laroy would be there with their respective crews for extra muscle and just plain menacing threat. We knew Weston wouldn't fight fair, we needed to be prepared. It could turn into a gun fight tonight, and we might lose a few members. Maybe even some Samcro. The thought of that devastated me. Hopefully we would overwhelm Weston in sheer numbers, intimidating him into fighting by the original rules. Ten on ten, no weapons.
"You ready for this?" Half-Sack fought through the crowd of families saying their goodbyes to reach me. I hadn't seen him all day, as his poor soul had been designated to babysitting my mom and Tara.
I smiled at him. "You have no idea. Come on, let's escape this crowd." I led the way through and out to the parking lot. Even though everyone in that crowd was a brother or their family, and I was perfectly safe, I had a hard time fighting the instinct to feel nervous in the middle of a large crowd squeezed into a small space. I felt much better out in the open air, and even better when a pair of strong familiar arms wrapped themselves around my waist from behind me.
"Are you sure you wanna go tonight?" Chibs whispered in my ear. Aww, he was worried about me.
"What kind of question is that? I wouldn't miss it for the world." I leaned my head against his and felt him sigh.
"What about something better than the world? I mean, who wants the world, right? What about that car you were talking about earlier? I could fix up an old muscle car for you, I know if you could love a car, it would be a muscle car. What about an El Camino, painted cherry red? " He pleaded. God, did this man know me or what.
I had to admit, the offer was tempting, but..."No. I'm going."
I felt his shoulders sag in defeat.
"An El Camino? Girls usually want Mustangs…But yeah, an El Camino fits you, I guess." Half-Sack smiled as he leaned against the railing behind our bikes.
I patted Chibs hand. "I'm going. But we can talk about that El Camino later."
"Oh, it's time to go." Sack said, glancing towards the clubhouse where the guys were making their way towards us.
I unwrapped myself from Chibs arms and walked back up to the clubhouse overhang to where my mother stood. I hugged her fiercely before turning to leave with the rest of my club.
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We stood in front of an old shed, watching as Laroy and Lin showed up and Clay made the arrangements for how the plan would go down. As the Chinese and the Niners meandered over to their respective sides of the shed Clay called us all close together for one final talk before Weston showed up.
"Okay, our ten is gonna be me, Jax, Tig, Opie, Juice, Bobby, Chibs, Happy, Half-Sack and Kozic."
My nostrils flared as Clay said Kozic's name instead of my own. There was no reason why I couldn't stand my own against one of Weston's crew, and Clay new that. I had been raised knowing how to fight, and when Chibs came around, I got some of the best training of my life. I hadn't lost a fight yet. What I lacked in pure muscle and strength, I made up for in speed and strategy. Besides, it wasn't the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the bitch, right?
"So, why can't I fight?"
Clay shot a look at Chibs before answering. "If Weston shows up with more than ten men, then you can – actually, you'll be first in line, but if this goes like we planned, then no, you sit out."
I looked at Chibs, who looked guiltily at the ground. "You did this?" I spit at him, venom in my voice. I ran my hands over my face and thought about the situation before saying anything else. I turned and sashayed back to my bike, shouting over my shoulder as I went, "I'm getting that cherry red El Camino just for that move right there."
The guys laughed and Chibs looked relieved. "Anyone know where I can find one those for cheap?"
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The sun went down as the time for Weston to show up grew closer. I had been stretching my arms over my head every few minutes, just to have something to do. The guys spent their time cracking knuckles and popping their necks. Half-Sack jumped up and down, warming his body, making sure adrenaline reached his every extremity. I stood up and paced, feeling too jumpy to sit. I swung my arms through the air, stretching them. No matter what Clay or Chibs said, I was getting some hits in tonight.
Soon enough, Weston and his crew rolled in and jumped out of their trucks armed to the hilt with guns. I smiled wildly. He had way more than ten men.
"That wasn't the deal. No weapons." Clay said.
"Fair is for losers." Weston replied. He was obviously thrilled that he had us outnumbered and outsmarted.
Tig stuck his fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle, signaling Laroy and Lin to make their way around the shed with their weapons. As they did, our ranks swelled to more than twice the size of Weston's crew. His smile faltered as his eyes took in the amount of people in front of him, most armed. He motioned for his men to drop their weapons and he did the same.
"Let's do this." Jax grinned from a few paces in front of me.
I watched as the men charged for each other, reminding me every bit of mountain goats ramming their heads in a show superiority. When more than ten of Weston's men ran forward, our second line of defense, headed by me and consisting of members of other charters, threw ourselves into the fray. I barreled at the first Nazi I saw unoccupied, watching his angry face turn to laughter as he saw a five foot four girl covered in leather running at him. I locked eyes with him and grinned wickedly, never pausing in my stride. I took advantage of his relaxed position and as soon as I was close enough to reach him I popped him one good one against the left side of his head. Before he knew it, I had ducked under his outstretched arm with the fist that was too slow for me and was behind him, throwing another right, this time against the opposite ear. His right hand reached for his ear and he went to spin around to his left, just as I knew he would. After all, I had directed him that way. As he lumbered around, bringing his right fist from his ear to find any part of me he could connect with, I popped back a step and threw my right leg out and into his left side, breaking a rib or two by the feel of it, and doing serious damage to one of his kidneys with my steel toed boots. He screamed at the pain and staggered forward at me. Perfect. I threw my left leg up this time into the inside of his left thigh. Ouch. That couldn't not hurt. He dropped to his knees and I kicked him in the head with my right leg, knocking him all the way onto the ground, where I proceeded to kick him in the head a few more times. I heard sirens in the distance as I kicked him in the other kidney for good measure. This could have been one of the men that hurt my mother, so I aimed another kick at his head with no remorse, then brought the heel of my boot down on his nose. I stood catching my breath and trying to assess the situation. Where were the sirens coming from? I looked up at the retreating backs of Laroy and Lin as the sirens got closer to us.
"Let's go!" I heard Weston shout to his crew.
Jax shoved Weston as his crew gathered their injured and piled into their trucks, cursing us all the way. "This isn't over."
"I'm not going anywhere!" Weston shouted and started for Jax again. God, did I want a shot at breaking that guys face. I moved forward as flashing squad cars spun onto the gravel. I stopped and watched as David Hale, a guy who had had a crush on me during school, jumped out of his jeep and assessed the situation.
"What the hell is this?" He yelled, anger etched clearly on his strained face.
"This doesn't concern you, Hale." Jax said.
The blood vessel in Hale's forehead threatened to burst. "You're in Charming!" He shot a look at Jax and I, standing on either side of Weston. He started walking our way, shooting annoyed but questioning glances at me and my cut as he walked over. "AJ Weston, you're under arrest for suspicion of arson in the burning of CaraCara."
"What!" Several of us shouted in unison. This was because of the report Chucky had filled out earlier today.
I watched as Hale put handcuffs around Weston's wrist. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. It was supposed to end tonight. Now we'd have to find another way to get to Weston while he sat under the protection of the Charming jail. Hale shoved Weston into the back of a squad car and left, his deputies following him.
"What now?" Juice asked.
Clay shrugged his shoulders. "Call Unser, tell him to move on the cigar shop." Clay motioned for Tig to make the call.
Minutes later, we were on our way to Impeccable Smokes. One of these assholes was dying tonight, David Hale be damned. He couldn't be at two places at once.
