Chibs had just returned from his shower, his hair damp, and his eyes sunken into his head. I was finishing his breakfast as he entered, fiddling with a small packet in his hand. I scraped a slice of ham out of the skillet and set it on a plate before checking on the egg I was frying.
"Hey," I said.
He smiled softly and kissed the top of my head.
"Hey, darlin'," he said quietly, then grabbed a glass from the cabinet and took it to the sink to fill it.
"You feel better?" I asked.
Chibs sniffed and opened the packet, plopping a tablet of Alka-Seltzer into the water.
"Aye. My sinuses are still throbbin', though," he replied.
I flipped the egg to confirm it was finished cooking, then slid it onto the plate and began constructing my masterpiece of the day. I was not entirely talented with cooking, especially the way Chibs liked. He was all about homemade when he was in the mood. I did not have as many cooking skills, so I decided to do what I could and see what I could make out of it. The breakfast sandwich I created did not look half bad.
"Well, you'll feel better after you eat," I said.
I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a slice of cheese, topped off the sandwich, then put the top slice of bread on and held up the plate.
"Hungry?" I asked.
Chibs finished off his Alka-Seltzer before his eyes widened.
"Jesus! What do ya got there?"
I smiled.
"Ham, bacon, egg and cheese," I replied.
His glassy eyes lit up. All fried and fatty and terrible for you (though I was never one to pay attention to that). The perfect treat when you felt like shit.
"Hell, Callie girl. I should get sick more often," he said.
"Please, don't," I replied.
Chibs smiled, took the plate and kissed my cheek.
"Thank-you, love," he said, then walked to the table.
"Welcome. Sunny D is on the table," I said.
Chibs spotted the glass of bright orange liquid and shot me a look.
"Orange juice?" he asked.
I smiled.
"Thought you could use the Vitamin C," I replied.
He grinned and shook his head.
"This shit's only good with alcohol," he said.
I laughed and went to pour myself some coffee.
"Like that will help," I said sarcastically.
Chibs sat down at the table.
"Hey. It'll kill whatever's in my system," he said.
I walked up to the table and sat across from him.
"Yeah, if you have a stomach bug," I replied.
Chibs smiled and bit into his sandwich. I waited for his reaction.
"You don't have to lie. I was never the best cook," I said.
Chibs swallowed and shook his head before reaching his drink. He took a sip and swallowed.
"Nah. It's really good. What I can taste, anyway. My nose is so goddamn stuffed up. It's just hot," he replied.
I smiled and sipped my coffee. He looked up and noticed that I had not made anything for myself.
"Aren't ya hungry, sweetheart?" he asked.
I smiled and shook my head.
"Nah," I replied, standing and downing the last of the only thing that was going to wake me up, "I'm fine. I'm going to go have a shower and get ready."
Chibs took another bite and looked up at me with puppy eyes.
"Can I have another? This is marvelous!" he said, a cheek full of food.
I smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek.
"You can make another if you want to, but we need to get around. We have church," I said.
Chibs stared deadpan across the table and his shoulders dropped. He had forgotten all about it. He set his sandwich down and rubbed his face with a groan.
"Fuck!" he growled.
I smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze before going to wash my mug out.
"Today is not my day," he grumbled.
I set the clean mug in the drainer and dried my hands.
"You want me to go get you some Benadryl or something?" I asked.
Chibs finished his sandwich before standing.
"Nah. I'll need something stronger. Keep me stoned for a week," he said.
I laughed and patted his arm before leaving to take a shower. I felt sorry for him. I did not often have allergy problems, but I was all too familiar with sinus infections, and I felt his pain. Id do anything to at least make him more comfortable. I hated seeing him miserable.
"Payday, kiddies!" Tig announced excitedly, slamming bundles of cash in front of us—our percentages from Diosa and Red Woody.
"Aah," Happy sighed, "It pays to have pussy."
Tig agreed and set my share in front of me before moving to T.O.
"Get your TM checks from Chucky at closing time," Chibs said, his voice nasally from his congestion.
"Your allergies acting up too, brother?" Montez asked him.
Chibs nodded.
"Aye," he replied.
I looked across the table at the empty chair, which had become Rat's since Juice's passing.
"Ratty boy on his honeymoon?" I asked.
"If you can call it that. They went to San Fran," Tig replied.
"What the hell is in San Fran?" Rane asked.
Chibs shrugged.
"They're young kids. Probably a ton of shit," he said.
"Yeah. Hotel rooms," T.O. added, making us laugh.
"'Kay, I'm putting Rat's share in the safe," Tig announced.
Chibs nodded.
"'Kay. Anythin' we need to discuss? I don't think we've ever had a uneventful meetin' in this room," he said.
The guys chuckled at that.
"Any movement on The VII?" Happy asked.
Chibs shook his head.
"It's all up to the cops right now," he replied.
"What are we going to do about them? We know L shot RJ. Tino's dead," I listed.
"And apparently the little bitch fled back to Huntington," Tig said, sitting back down.
"And Jojo will soon be out of prison," Chibs said distantly.
Silence fell upon the table.
"We can't just go down there and do what we did to the XMC. We'll be running right into the red zone," I said.
Chibs looked up at me and sighed.
"We can't just dangle ya out there like bait, either, love. If we don't take precautions now, we're sittin' ducks," he said.
I nodded in agreement.
"They know where Callie is. They know she's with us. They most likely know now that Tino's dead, and probably know he was at Diosa—a business that we co-own. According to RJ, they knew that already," Tig said, "I'm not sure what we're supposed to do next."
Chibs picked at his fingernails.
"Ya wanna know what I'm thinkin'?" he asked.
No one said a word, but everyone's eyes were on the Prez.
"We buy out the Freak Riders for intel," he said.
I narrowed my eyes. Buy them out?
"What do you mean?" I asked.
His eyes flashed up to mine.
"We pay them for intel. Covers us, and pays for their trouble. We're not gonna to get the entire club to trust us without the cash. Besides, if they rat or lie, their cashflow is cut—"
"And their throats," Tig finished.
"Tig!" I scolded, "I have faith in them. Especially Milo."
"Maybe we should just talk to Milo, then," Chibs said, "If he doesn't believe the Riders will be on board, then he can work solo."
Happy sighed.
"That's super sketchy, brother," he said.
Chibs shrugged.
"What choice do we have? This is about Callie. This is about Juicey and RJ. There's no business here. Only revenge, and the only way we could fuck this up is with lies, and so far, everyone's stories have synced up."
"So, the only chances for lying would be from this Milo guy. That's why we have to buy them out. Get them completely on our side," Tig said.
"Aye," Chibs agreed.
A knock on the chapel doors interrupted us. We looked up to see Chucky pop his head in.
"Sorry, but Jarry just pulled up," he said.
I cringed. She better have some info on L…
"Tell her we'll be with her shortly," Chibs said, "She's alone, right?"
Chucky nodded.
"'Kay. Just tell her to wait."
Chucky nodded once and left, shutting the door behind him.
"Do we need more thought on the buy out?" Chibs asked us, "Or should we vote it?
"Let's sit on it. See what Sheriff Hard Ass has to say," I replied.
The guys nodded. Chibs nodded and picked up the gavel.
"Right, then. Let's go," he said.
The gavel went down, and we stood up and filtered out into the clubhouse. Some of us went straight to the bar, and a few of us headed out to the garage. Chibs and I walked out to the garage office, as he had some paperwork to fill out and get everyone's checks. Since Jax had briefly taken over, most office work was taken care of by Chucky, but Chibs had gladly taken over some of the work. He did not care for it, but Chucky could not do it all alone. Chibs wondered if he could hire Brooke, but since she had taken her barista job, he probably could not get her back to TM until Felix was born.
Outside, I walked close to Chibs, automatically protective when I saw Althea leaning against the cruiser. It was not about the overly friendly trust building scheme she had between him anymore. I was long over that. It was about my duty to protect him, as a club member and Old Lady, and since I knew he was not up to snuff today, it made me extra defensive. If she copped an attitude, she would have to put up with me. If she did not like it, she could take it up with Tig, as he seemed to be in prime form today. I was not going to let her irritating, give no fucks attitude resurrect Chibs' headache.
"Easy, my love. Don't prepare to pounce just yet," Chibs murmured as we walked passed her.
I relaxed, but did not let my guard down.
"I have some news for you," Althea called to us.
I waved her over, leading her into the office. Chibs went straight for the coffee machine, and I sat down on the couch. Althea stepped inside and shut the door.
"Ya got some info for us, Sheriff?" Chibs asked, and walked to the desk chair, sitting down heavily.
He acted like he was in pain, moving stiffly and grunting as he sat down.
"I do," she said, her voice just as stiff.
"What?" Chibs asked, tiredly rubbing the side of his face.
He was not up for this.
"Well, we discovered that Mr. Venza was part of The VII Deadliest, which is a Huntington Beach outlaw motorcycle club. Known members are Shane Maddox, Zero Owens, Lancaster Hanes, Valentino Venza and Joseph Christmas. Owens and now, Venza are deceased, which currently leaves Maddox, Hanes and Christmas. However, Christmas was incarcerated at the time of the attack, which leaves Hanes and Maddox left as the suspect who could have killed Richards."
"Okay," Chibs said, pulling the computer's keyboard into his lap so he could log in and get the the paychecks set up, "Then get to Huntington and investigate."
"I have some investigators down there now, but none of this explains why they put a hit on Ortiz and Richards. Huntington Beach is six hours from here," she said.
"I don't know!" Chibs groaned, annoyed.
She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer, pissed.
"Careful," I warned her.
She looked down at me and smirked.
"Right," she said, "Listen, I need a little bit more help than this. You act like you don't want to find the killers, which leads me to believe you guys had something to do with Venza's death."
"The motherfucker's heart stopped and he crashed!" Chibs exclaimed, "Could have been for a number of reasons! Probably over-dosed."
Althea huffed.
"Well, that could be, but I know how you guys are. And I know how you guys carefully select which information to share."
Chibs glared at her, and I crossed my arms over my chest.
"I don't think you need to be pointing fingers at us, Althea," I said lowly, "We're the victims here."
She laughed humorlessly.
"And these guys have been known to take matters into their own hands," she snapped.
"I'm fixing to take a matter into my hands if you don't stick to the subject," I threatened.
I watched her nostrils flare angrily.
"I'm just letting you both know right now. Don't you dare start a war. Not in Huntington Beach, and don't bring it to Charming. I'm not on your payroll anymore and I-"
"Could disappear if you say one more word, Althea," Chibs growled.
Her jaw snapped closed. I smiled.
"There will be no wars, so long as ya do your job. Ya hear me?" he said lowly.
She took a deep breath and nodded.
"Yes. But, let me make this clear. If I suspect, or witness activity that points to a fight, I will have your club in handcuffs. Charming cannot take another war," she said.
Chibs nodded.
"Just have the bastard who killed our brother in handcuffs, and there won't be a problem," he said.
Althea nodded, and with that, walked out the door. Once out of sight and hearing range, Chibs set the keyboard down and let his head fall back.
"Fuck!" he barked out.
I stood up, moved behind him, then took his shoulders and kissed his forehead.
"She'll most likely have eyes on us now," I said.
Chibs sighed, tired brown eyes watching me.
"Doesn't matter what I do," he said quietly.
I took his cheeks and kissed him upside-down.
"We'll slip out from under her nose, my sweet boy. Just takes time and a plan."
He blinked slowly and nodded.
"We gotta reach out to Milo," he said.
I nodded.
"Call church in tomorrow and we'll vote it. Right now, I'll go get Chucky in here to help you finish and then we're going straight home. You need to get some rest," I said.
He nodded in agreement.
"And a burrito from Molten Cantina," he said.
I laughed.
"I'll call it in before we leave," I said.
He smiled sweetly and turned around to face me, then stood and hugged me.
"I love you," he said.
I laughed.
"Because you're getting your favorite thing for lunch?" I asked teasingly.
Suddenly, his arms tightened around me and he buried his face in my hair.
"No. Just because I do," he replied.
I sighed and held him tighter.
"I love you, too, baby," I said.
He raised his head and looked down at me, studying my face for a moment before that precious smile of his appeared. Heat spread through my chest, as this time, the smile had not been provoked by a comment. He stroked my cheek, then softly kissed me.
"I'll get Chucky," he said, then left me in the office to stare at him, wondering where the hell his change in mood came from.
Tig entered the room through the garage to see me staring after Chibs. He looked to the door, then back to me.
"What's wrong, baby girl?" he asked, "Jarry?"
I snapped my head over to him and shook my head.
"No. He's just doped up on allergy meds," I said, knowing that was a lame excuse, but unable to think of a way to explain it.
Tig smiled.
"Why don't you come out here and check these swatches for your bike?" he asked.
I nodded and followed him out the door.
It took Chibs a few days to bounce back from his allergy flare-up. He acted like it was killing him. It could have been something deadly, the way he carried on. Typical man, I guess. I knew that the next time I got sick, he was in for it.
We needed those few days of recuperation, though. By the time he could go through the day without taking something for congestion or an allergy pill that made him worthless to the world, we were able to reach out to the Freak Riders of Long Beach. They had news regarding The VII, anyway, and Milo and the remaining members of the MC had agreed to meet us half way. The only problem with that, was the mysterious black Suburban parked on the street outside of the compound. Sometimes it was parked closer to the gate, and other times, a little further away. Tig had noticed it on the security cameras, and after several days of investigation, concluded that it was two cops keeping tabs on their local outlaw motorcycle club. Jarry was keeping her thumb on us. They never followed us, though. We always left in pairs, as they knew we did not ride alone. However, when the van was taken, they followed. Even if it was just to get gas. We knew that if we congregated, we wouldd most definitely have a tail. We could not afford that. We needed the help of the Riders, and a tail would do nothing to build trust. We needed a plan.
Chibs had settled for a place the club called "The Quiet Spot." It was off the beaten path in a small rural area the club owned so we would not get in trouble for trespassing. I had never been to the Quiet Spot, but I had heard it was a great place to fish if you got the chance. It was roughly halfway between Stockton and Long Beach. Three hours, give or take. The only problem was getting there without a tail. We needed a diversion. The ever brilliant Rane Quinn came up with a plan. There was a disgusting little whore dive they liked to visit on runs back when the club was in more illegal enterprises. He thought about leading the cops there, spending the night, keep the pigs entertained while a few of us split off to go to the meet. Tig had an even better plan. The cops would be looking for our bikes. He decided to take our club, The Grim Bastards, and meet up with one of our charters in Modesto for a great, drunken whore party. Meanwhile, Chibs and I go to the meet in one of the cars. The cops would never suspect a thing until they realized that Chibs and I were not there. They would be looking for bikes that were safely parked at home.
Chibs decided to take the Challenger for this trip, as the other cars were a beacon for cops, anyway. Everyone and their grandmother owned a Challenger. Granted, not many were as souped up as mine. Matte charcoal paint, racing stripes up the hood, hood scoop, spoiler, and blacked-out rims. Chibs was itching to get his hands on the wheel, and when we left that morning, I let him drive. He was not a fan of cages, but one could not argue with the way his eyes lit up when the engine turned over. Once Tig called, confirming they had a tail, we were off.
Lieutenant Sheriff Althea Jarry sat behind a computer, her curiosity getting the best of her as she rifled through public records, on the hunt for one particular person. It quickly occurred to her, however, that she had no idea what the person's name was when she clicked on the search field. She looked down in deep thought, trying to wrack her brain and remember if she had at least heard a first name. She came up with nothing except the memory of the pain after Chibs Telford's Old Lady smashed her face in. It was nothing a dentist and an ice pack could not fix, but she was still pissed. She wished she had just left them alone, and felt foolish for even entertaining the thought that the SAMCRO President would cut her some slack. It was obvious she would not be able to get to him without his protective girlfriend. She understood that that was her job, but Althea had underestimated their smallest club member.
Then, she remembered their Vice President mentioning something about this girl being his "daughter." They were at Ortiz's house together, and both of them had blue eyes and dark hair. She did not know if it was possible that this girl could be Trager blood, but she quickly typed in "Alexander Trager" and hunted. She found two daughters. Dawn Trager, who to Althea's surprise, was deceased. She sifted through Dawn's records, coming up with her driver's license photo. Definitely not a match for Telford's Old Lady, but resembled Trager more than the girl who had busted her face in. Next, she tried Fawn. Fawn most definitely looked nothing like her, or her sister Dawn, for that matter. Fawn Trager's records came up with little to nothing, and Althea found out of the two, she had been more well-behaved. Nothing outstanding. Nothing sinister. A DUI when she was 18, and that was it. She currently resided in San Francisco. Althea then remembered that the MC called each member "brother." Trager was one of the oldest, if not the oldest in the club now. The patriarch of SAMCRO. Althea's shoulders sagged when she realized that the use of the word "daughter" had most likely not been literal. Either way, he had had her fooled.
Althea sighed and closed the tab on Trager and his family. Researching Chibs, as she had several times before, would also come up with nothing. His criminal record, home address, license, citizenship records, passport, and his family. Parents, sister, ex-wife, and his daughter. No leads to his Old Lady, and they most likely intended on keeping it that way for safety reasons. Althea gave up on that search and decided to get back on the task of hunting down Shane Maddox and Lancaster Hanes. It was then she an idea struck her. The club had not had any problems until the girl with the short hair and vicious attitude showed up, and if she had learned anything from Charming, it was that outsiders were always the source of the problem. She wondered if The VII were after SAMCRO because of their newest member.
Althea ran through Maddox's files first, coming up with criminal records, family records, including information of his marriage to a Serena Calogera. She found a newspaper article from the wedding, which listed several familiar names that were in attendance. Lancaster and Anna Hanes, Craig and Rita Maddox, Valentino Venza, Melissa Crawford, Zero Owens, Callie Shepherd, Joseph Christmas, Evelyn Cullen, Everett and Fae Calogera, and several more. Althea searched through Hanes and Christmas' files, coming up short, save for Christmas' extensive criminal record. She had sifted through Venza's files, coming up with similar results. She decided to try and see what she could dig up on Owens.
Running Owens' name, she found very similar records to the others. DUI's in high school, arrested for stealing alcohol underage, arrested for possession of drugs, and several other things. He was born the same year as the rest of the club. Not all were from Huntington Beach originally, but all five club members had attended the same school between the 8th grade to their senior year. She found that his date of death was almost seven years ago now. With that, she dug into his death records, finding that he passed away of heart failure, and according to the autopsy report she was able to pull up, his heart had been failing. They noted that his sudden death was a result from smoking. On his obituary, she found a picture of the man, birth and death dates, his date of death being just a year after the wedding article was published. She found on the funeral home's website and section of condolences from family and friends of Owens. One comment in particular caught her eye.
"Z will not be forgotten. He was one of my best friends and such a sweet guy. Great listener. Amazing mind. I wish his parents, brothers, and Callie all the best in this hard time. -M"
Althea's eyes narrowed, her focused singling out the name. Callie. She backtracked to the article of Maddox's wedding to find the name "Callie Shepherd" next to Owens' name. Thinking this must be the same Callie, she switched over to the records database and typed the name in. To her surprise and excitement, the Callie Shepherd in the records was the same girl who was now a SAMCRO member, and on Chibs' arm.
"I knew it!" Althea whispered.
She rifled through Callie's records like a child tearing through Christmas presents, finding only basic information, but it was a start. Birthday. Same year as the rest of the members of The VII. Born in Seattle, WA and attended school in Huntington Beach, CA. Both parents were deceased, and after a little research, found a news article: "MASS SHOOTING IN HUNTINGTON BEACH LIBRARY." Out of the several dead, two were identified as Callie's parents. Althea could find no more information on family, nor could she find much at all. Not even a criminal record, which she could hardly believe. As explosive as she was, Althea was hoping to find at least one assault charge. There was nothing. Whether it had been wiped clean or simply never existed was unclear. There was no record of her being affiliated with The VII, either. Only the comment and the wedding article. Her current records showed that she resided in Charming, her address matching that of a Filip Telford. She was living with him, but Althea was not surprised. However, that is where her research fell short. Althea decided to go back to hunt for Owens, and found a news article, which seemed riddled with unclear facts and paranoia. The article was dated almost seven years ago.
"KNOWN OUTLAW MC MEMBER FOUND DEAD IN HOME
Known outlaw motorcycle club member was found dead last night in his home. Zero Owens, member of Huntington Beach, CA motorcycle club, The VII Deadliest, was found by fiancé, Callie Shepherd. Cause of death is currently unclear, but Shepherd has claimed that Owens was suffering from heart disease, and investigators believe Owens death was caused by heart failure. More information will be released as the investigation continues. "
Althea leaned back in her chair. So, that was who she was connected to!
Althea finished up her research, taking notes and piecing together a conclusion. It had seemed that after Owens' death, Callie remained in Huntington Beach before her move to Charming. There was no information as to why she moved, or why she picked Charming. According to her research, neither Shepherd, nor The VII had any affiliations with SAMCRO. Althea could only assume that Callie met Chibs by coincidence, and perhaps the club had offered her protection. Knowing the Scot, she would not put it past him to offer Callie help. She had no parents, lost her fiancé. She was a biker, though. An Old Lady. Original VII royalty. It was only natural for Shepherd to go nomad. Althea thought that was most likely what had happened. She had stopped in Charming, found SAMCRO, and the rest was history. As someone fascinated with biker culture herself, she could not blame Shepherd. Had she lived another life, she would be doing the same thing.
Althea closed off of the databases and leaned back in her chair. Callie Shepherd, who lost everything according to the records, migrates north, just so happens to meet SAMCRO, and finds a new life in Charming. That did not explain why Venza and either Hanes or Maddox had hunted down Richards and Ortiz. They could not be using Shepherd as bait, as they had no beef with SAMCRO. Perhaps Shepherd found that she was in trouble and ran. Either way, she knew that she was in a committed and loving relationship with SAMCRO's President, and if someone was threatening her, he would stop at nothing to make sure the threat was squashed. Althea knew that meant war, and that was exactly what she was trying to keep at bay. The last thing she needed was the D.A. up her ass with ongoing Sons of Anarchy bullshit.
Althea's phone rang, and she quickly answered it. It was her partner, Officer Candy Eglee.
"Eglee," Althea answered.
"We've trailed SAMCRO to Modesto. Apparently, they're having a big get-together out here at a dive bar," Eglee replied, "Nothing sinister, but we cannot spot Telford or the girl."
"Callie Shepherd. That's her name. I found some information her. Not much, but enough," Althea replied.
"Well, Trager is leading the pack. We're missing the Prez and his Old Lady," Eglee replied.
Althea gritted her teeth. She was afraid of that.
"Okay, just keep eyes on SAMCRO. I'll check the porn studio and TM. Keep me posted," she replied.
"Roger that," Eglee replied.
Althea hung up and let out a frustrated groan. She hoped the King showed up to join his men, as she had no motive to put an APB on him, and she knew any wrong step she took, and he found out, he would kill her.
The sun beamed down on the water in front of us, glittering and blinding. The occasional bird would fly over into the trees, chirping its happy little ass off. It was warm out today, and in sitting in the sun, made it a little hot. I knew the water would be way too cold to swim in, but that did not mean it was not tempting as it splashed up on the concrete dock. Nevertheless, it was incredibly peaceful here, and it was relaxing to be able to sit on the hood of the Challenger in the sun and just enjoy nature for a minute.
Chibs paced the end of the loading dock, kicking pebbles into the water with his phone stuck to his ear. I watched him move back and forth, shuffling his boots lazily against the concrete and stopping every three to four steps. When the call was finally over, he snapped his phone shut and walked back up the dock.
"Milo?" I asked.
"Nah. Tig. The tail's sittin' on them in Modesto," he replied.
I shrugged.
"Let 'em sit," I said.
Chibs leaned against the side rail and lit a cigarette.
"Aye," he mumbled around the smoke.
"What time are the Freak Riders supposed to be here?" I asked.
Chibs lowered his cigarette and blew a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth.
"Noon," he replied.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. It was 11:20. Chibs smiled.
"Might've gotten here a little early," he said.
I smiled at him, replacing my phone.
"Yeah, we did, lead foot," I replied.
Chibs grinned and looked down at his boots. He had sped the whole way here, gunning it every chance he could just to hear the engine roar.
I watched him as he finished his cigarette. It may have been that he felt better, and therefore, looked better, but then again, it could have been the bright, warm sun and that he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt under his cut, his wrist, Anarchy tattoo, and the bottom of his Reaper tattoo on display. Either way, regardless of the beautiful scenery, my focus was on him. His hair, freshly washed, was combed back, long pieces falling and framing his face. His eyes were shielded by his purple KD's, and I could see the top of his million dollar bill tattoo peeking through the v-neck. I was not sure what it was about him on this particular morning. My eyes traced the muscles on his biceps—the way the fitted sleeves curved over his muscles and shoulders. How the cut made his shoulders broader than they already were. The fitted sides dipping down to his waist, fitting snugly above his hips. His beads tucked under the cut. Every time he lifted the cigarette to his lips, I could see the side of the tattoo on his wrist, the letter C and half of an A underneath a wing. When I thought about it too deeply, it became surreal. This wonderful man was mine, and even though it felt awkward to just sit and gawk at him, but I could not help it. I thought my Old Man was smolderingly attractive.
Chibs finished his cigarette, dropped the butt, and ground the remains into the concrete.
"It's fuckin' hot out here," he growled.
I smiled at him. It was very warm today. Had to be in the 80's.
"You ever think about taking that cut off?" I asked.
I had left mine in the car. Heavy leather as warm as it was? I was not going to put it on until the Riders arrived.
Chibs sighed and approached me, taking his time as he admired the front of the car.
"Not on the job, love," he said.
He stepped in front of me and put his hands on my sides.
"I take it off for one thing, and one thing only," he said.
I felt my spine turned to mush and my eyes widen. He winked at me and turned away. It was then I finally allowed myself to breathe.
"Take it off," I said.
Chibs spun around and looked at me in surprise.
"What?" he asked.
I smiled.
"Take off the cut," I said lowly.
I watched his eyes as they darkened, and a predatory grin crossed his lips.
"My, my, love. Feelin' adventurous?" he asked, stepping in front of me.
"We have time," I said.
Chibs grinned. He began to unbutton his cut, and in my impatience, I helped shove it from his shoulders—the sound of leather slapping never sounding so good. He leaned over, draped the cut over the railing and took my face in his hands. He kissed me deeply. I gripped a shoulder and cupped his cheek, tasting the cigarette and faint hint of this morning's coffee on his lips. I kissed him passionately, lost in his warmth. Chibs raised his head and smirked at me.
"You are quite the little minx today, my sweet girl," he said.
I smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Well, you've been sick. We haven't been able to spend time together," I replied.
He smiled.
"Aye. And ya know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off ya. Especially when you're sitting on top of this sexy car," he said, leaning his head down to kiss my neck.
I let out a soft moan. Chibs detached himself from my neck.
"I love you, Callie girl," he said.
I smiled and butted my forehead to his.
"I love you, too, Chibs," I said.
Chibs nuzzled face against mine, I locked my lips with his and ran my hands down his chest. The kiss heated up with my body temperature, and I was not able to take this slowly much longer. I fumbled for his belt buckle, taking note of his arousal as I blindly pulled it open. There would be no foreplay today.
Chibs pulled away and unbuttoned my jeans. I lifted my butt and helped the process. Chibs pulled his pants down around his thighs and pulled me to him. He stared at me for a moment, suddenly serious as the tension began to rise. In the blink of an eye, his mouth was on mine, assaulting my lips. Our tongues tangled together as we held each other for deal life. He leaned me back on the hood. The metal wasn't too hot, but I could feel it through my t-shirt. Chibs pinned me between his arms and teased me as he bit down on my neck. I moaned softly. He raised his head and sunk into me. Upon contact, I tensed in anticipation, already too impatient for what was to come. He grabbed my arms, lifting me up to sit and began to move. It was fast, almost aggressive as the two of us fought for dominance. Chibs held me flush to him as I locked my legs around him, impaling me further and making me cry out into his mouth. His soft moans had me reeling, and all too soon, we were both close. We were overwhelmed, our skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat. I gripped the back of his neck and kissed the side, eliciting a gentle moan from him. His pace quickened, a sudden jolt of pleasure causing me to buck my hips.
"Jesus Christ, Callie," he breathed out.
I held him tightly and whimpered.
"God, Filip," I said.
He bucked again and I nearly lost it, crying out loud enough to hear my voice echo.
In the distance, I could have sworn I heard motorcycles.
"Chibs," I whimpered.
"Tell me what ya want, baby," he said huskily, making my eyes roll.
"I think I hear bikes," I said.
But my words were ignored with Chibs suddenly tumbled over the edge.
"Shit!" he hissed, then shuddered and moaned as he climaxed.
His reaction was enough for me to topple over the edge. I let out a high-pitched cry, climaxing, the intensity making me lose all sense of reality for a moment. When I came down, though, Chibs froze. The sound of motorcycles became louder.
"Shit!" he exclaimed.
We broke away from each other just in time to redress, grab our cuts, and try to make ourselves look a little less disheveled. I fixed Chibs cut as he fixed my hair.
"Just enough time," he said breathlessly.
I laughed.
"I know," I agreed.
He smiled and kissed me once more as a line of familiar bikes came down the gravel drive.
"When we get back home, I'll love ya right," he said.
A growl caught in my throat. He was going to leave me hot and bothered all day. Chibs was not a love you and leave you man. He took the time to make sure you knew how much he loved you, and I was ready to return the favor. But first, it was time to be reunited with a MC I had not seen in years.