A/N - I had all but given up on this story, but a recent bit of feedback really got to me. I always love criticism and feedback, I'm a big of advocate for it as it develops you as a writer, but I think personal attacks are pretty below the belt. By all means, tell me you don't like my story, but don't call it 'bullshit', especially under the guise of a guest. If you're going to be so brutal, at least have the guts to sign your name. Because I put my heart on a plate every time I post on any of my fanfics, and at least I'm brave enough to sign off on it too.
Phew, now that's over. I re-read everything in this story and I've decided to pick it up again - just to balance with the three other Sons fanfics I write (^_^). Please enjoy, and please give me feedback - but constructive criticism works best rather than an insult and an attack.
Sara x
"You are a sneaky little minx, aren't you?"
Swift looked up as Tig re-entered the room with the things she needed. He had left her belted to the table but, eager to get ahead, she had got her ink pen from her bag and already started to draw a complex set of tattoos onto her skin with her free hand. Her ink wasn't all that far from what had caught Tig's eye that first night he had met her, and he pursed his lips a little as he examined the vines twisting around her muscles.
"I hope you can draw," she teased, shrugging her shoulder. Tig chuckled as he tipped out the contents of his shopping on the bed.
"Smiley faces and stick men, sure." She raised an eyebrow. "Hey, if it's good enough for Hap, you can suck that shit up."
She watched as he tore the plastic tag from the scissors with his teeth, snarling a little as he did, and he spat the broken seal towards her. Swift wrinkled her nose at looked at him in disgust. "Charming," she muttered. He grinned, rubbing his hand down her thigh leisurely.
"You've had a lot worse than my spit on your face, baby." His fingers were straying up toward her torso as he waved the scissors in his hand. "So are these for one of your kink games?"
"Kind of."
She looked at him patiently, waiting to be released, and Tig undid his belt with a torturous slowness. His fingers rubbed over her raw skin – of course she had tried her best to untie his knots but Tig had been a Marine, he knew how to make sure she couldn't undo that thing in his absence – and Tig lifted her wrist to his mouth, pressing a little kiss against the spot.
"May I?" She extended her hand toward him but Tig reluctantly held on, unsure that he could trust her.
"Just tell me what to do," he muttered. She rolled her eyes but he gave her a condescending look. "I'm not fucking stupid, Effie. You think I've not cut someone with a pair of these before?" She sighed, wishing he would shut up. She didn't want to hear it, she didn't want to know any little thing any of these stupid people had done.
Seeing that he wasn't joking, she wound her hair around her hand, stretching it out taut for him. "Just, cut here." Tig looked at her in surprise and she groaned. "Oh for fuck's sake, I don't have time. Do it."
"But I like your hair." He whinnied a little bit and she couldn't help but smile.
"Pussy. Just cut it. I need a new look if this is going to work." She smirked a little as he winced, the blades hovering around her hair. "You wait until I go blonde, I seem to remember you like that."
"Good job you shave down there, wouldn't want mismatched rugs and drapes."
She gave him an elbow to the ribs for his quip and Tig broke into a smile. Taking a breath, made a jagged cut through Swift's hair and whimpered as it came away in her hand. She pouted, looking at it in, missing it already, and tossed it down on the bed beside the bottle of bleach.
"You, uh, done this before?"
Tig watched as she paced through to the bathroom and tipped some of the stuff over her head, twisting it through her remaining shaggy cut with her bare hands before rinsing them off quickly. She laughed at that.
"A few times, Tiggy. A girl on the run has to change it up now and then."
Tig leaned against the wall, watching her with fascination as she picked up her pen and started drawing along the other arm. She was so keen to change, to hide. That usually meant nothing but trouble. "What did you do?" he asked curiously, his blue eyes sparkling as he said it. "To make you need to run?"
She caught his eye in the mirror. "I didn't need to run."
He crossed his arms over his chest with a laugh. "Nobody wants to run. Why would you? Give up, leave home, get away? Nah, you've got to have done something. Something bad."
He was getting too close to the truth for comfort. Swift pressed her lips together, trying to keep her focus. Maybe she should just take all her clothes off again, that seemed to work for him, he'd get distracted by her breasts and just shut the hell up. She started to reach for the edge of her vest when Tig suddenly kicked the bathroom door shut and blocked her exit.
"That's what Hale wants, isn't it?"
She opened her mouth and shut it again. Fuck, why had she thought that Tig wouldn't be able to start piecing things together? For all his faults, he was a guy with street smarts, making him exactly the kind of person she needed to avoid.
"You don't know what you're talking about." She glanced in the mirror, she'd wanted to go platinum but dirty blonde was going to have to do, she needed to get ready to run. She dunked her hair in the basin and splashed the water over it, rinsing the bleach out and shaking through her new do with her hand. She could see Tig was put out by her new look, internally conflicted by the replacement of his old memories and his desire to fuck for some new ones. "You like?"
Her wet hair dripped onto her shirt and he let out a low growl, seeing the droplets of water soaking through, exposing her nipples. Tig pushed her up against the sink, tugging her new blonde hair to one side and looking at the bird tattooed on her neck in the mirror.
"Maybe you'll have to show me what this little alias can do, huh?" He bit her ear and hard, and she yelped as he pushed his hips against hers harder. "Tell me what you did."
She stammered. Fuck, she should have thought of a good excuse by now but it just hadn't been a damn priority. Tig could see her eyes flicking from side to side as she tried to think, and his hand cupped her face, squeezing her cheeks tightly.
"The truth, con. You can't kid a kidder."
God, he loved having a hold over her like this, there was something delicious about it. He started to lean into her, pulling his gun from his pants, when he suddenly stopped, hearing a knock on the door. He sneered, it was probably that ATF bitch again, she'd be coming back with another question or something she'd want to try and tie him to. He glanced at the door, debating, and he rubbed his tongue over his teeth as he pulled Swift behind him.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, trying to pull away from him, but Tig snorted.
"Fuck you, I want my money. I don't trust you for a goddamn second. Stahl can have you."
He had just managed to put his gun away again as he pulled the door open. Swift shrank in his arms but she sighed with relief as she saw Chibs standing there, a cigarette hanging between his teeth and his hand on his hip as he waited. Tig's eyes widened, not expecting him, and he groaned as Chibs swaggered into the room. The Scotsman stopped, taking a deep breath. It smelled of sex – he almost wasn't surprised – and chlorine.
"Been busy?" he asked with amusement, gesturing towards Swift. Tig let go of her, irritated by the disruption, and Chibs moved across to her, stroking his fingers through her hair. "Suits you. Should have had it like that before."
"Oh she has." Tig snorted in annoyance. "She's had it every fucking way."
Chibs smiled a little at that and winked at her. "Aye, she likes it like that." He turned his attention to Tig now. "And what way were you intending on having it, brother?"
Tig hesitated. He rubbed his hand over his jaw as he glanced back out towards the front lot. "How'd you find us?"
"Your bike. Been riding for a couple of hours. Hurts," he added, gesturing to his injured knee and looking at Swift. "Thanks for that."
She shrugged like it was no big deal, trying to think. With both Tig and Chibs here, she could either play them off against each other or use one to get out. She just needed Tig to keep quiet for just a few minutes longer, but to no success.
"Yeah, thanks Effie." Tig looked at Chibs, amused. "That's her real name, you know? Hale let it slip." Chibs tilted his head, surprised, but nodded. "Juice is already running it."
"You won't find anything," she responded sharply. "Hale's got me confused with someone, the guy is crazy. Some college debt or something, he's talking bullshit. Filip." Her eyes connected with him, trying to find a rhythm with him. "Please, I just want to get out of here."
Chibs laughed a little. "Aye, should have got you out of here a long time ago." He pinched her cheek playfully. "Before you made such a goddamn pig's ear of it all with Clay."
Even saying his name was like a red rag to a bull, a mist descended over her eyes. "He deserved that," she snapped furiously. "He tried to fucking-" She cut herself off, looking at the way they were both staring at her, and she shook her head. They wouldn't understand, and they probably wouldn't care, they'd done worse themselves.
And it was in that moment that she realised who she was dealing with. For all of her moments of romanticising with these two, they were out for themselves, just like she was. She glanced around as they started to talk about Clay, wondering what she could use to defend herself, and immediately spotted the pair of scissors still laying on the bed beside her trimmed locks. She had to make the move, but she needed it to be subtle…
"I think I should just go."
She took a step towards the door but Tig charged at her, grabbing her shoulder and pressing her to sit on the bed.
"I think you should stay." He turned back to Chibs, continuing with their conversation, and Swift took that moment to grab the scissors, swinging them wide open as she threw her arm around Tig's neck and pressed the blade against his throat.
"No, I really think I should go." She looked at Chibs, her eyes steely with determination. "Let me pass, Filip."
Chibs could barely believe it. She was standing there, bold as brass, armed and with Tig firmly in her grip. He put his hands up but shook his head. "Don't hurt him. I came here to help you."
"Fuck that," Tig spat, wrestling with her arm but finding her pushing the metal even tighter to his throat.
"I don't need your help," Swift snapped. "I don't need anyone's help, and I never fucking have." She could see Chibs was in two minds as to whether to let her go and she knew she would have to make a move. "I'll kill him, Chubs. I've wanted to keep things sweet but I'll do what I did to your Prez and more if you don't let me go."
Chibs swallowed as he looked at Tig. Tig was adamant, he shook his head despite feeling the cold metal to him. "Don't you fucking dare, Chibby." Chibs' lip quivered for a moment and Swift knew she was nearly in the clear.
"Please," she whispered. She dug one nail into her palm, it made her tear up in an instant and she pushed her lower lip out into the perfect pout. "Give me a five minute headstart, at least."
Against his better judgment, Chibs stepped aside and pulled the door open. Her face relaxed in an instant and, as she let go of Tig, her fingers wound around the bike chain on his belt. She yanked the keys after her as she bolted, tossing the scissors at him as she went and, like a whippet, she shot down the balcony, legging it half way down the stairs before jumping the rest of the way and pelting towards Tig's bike.
It wasn't until he heard the roar of his Harley that he knew she'd taken his keys. Tig, mortified, started out onto the balcony but she was already gone. He turned on Chibs, a look of total fury in his eyes.
"She would never have done it!" he demanded angrily. Chibs shook his head and motioned to his knee.
"I don't know," he muttered. "Just let her go. She'll get out of town, we'll tell Clay she's dead. Everybody wins here." He wrinkled his nose as he heard the last ghost of Tig's bike in the distance. "I'll cover your bike, I swear."
Tig was about to object again when his phone buzzed. He snatched it up in an instant, expecting Clay or, worse, Hale, but the words the filled his ears filled him with a different sort of dread. His skin went pale as he flipped the phone on to speaker, hoping to God he had misheard.
"Say it again," he demanded.
"She's a fucking fed," Juice muttered quickly. "Kill her, right now."
