By the time he and V. were back to the Clubhouse, Chibs couldn't wipe the smile off his face. It may have gotten a little sketchy at the end, but watching V. in action had been amazing. The girl wasn't posing—she was tough as hell. If he'd have been the Nazi on the sofa, he'd have been scared shitless. Jumping off his bike, he pulled V. off the Prospect's, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground. "You are so fuckin' hot," he muttered in her ear. "I want to lay you down right here." He put her down and kissed her as he pushed her backwards, towards the garage wall. Breaking away slightly, he bit her bottom lip. "Violent bitch, you are," he said, boosting her up again when her back hit the wall so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. "Sexiest woman I ever fuckin' seen." He smashed her up against the wall, cupping her ass in his hands.
Jax had stormed out of the Clubhouse and was halfway to his bike when he saw them. He couldn't have believed this day could piss him off any more, but that certainly did it. Not only had Clay sent V. out on something she had no business doing, he'd named Chibs her handler. And they were obviously both taking to that arrangement. He tried to make himself continue his path to his bike and ignore them, but he couldn't do it. "Jesus Fucking Christ!" he yelled.
Chibs let V. down, but kept his arms around her. "Problem, Jackie?" he asked, unable to completely keep the smirk from his face.
"Clay's waitin' on you," Jax said, his eyes blazing.
"Better not keep him waitin'," Chibs said cheerfully. Releasing V., he headed towards the Clubhouse door.
As she walked towards the Clubhouse, Jax noticed the blood on V.'s shirt and spattered on her hands and arms. Though he felt sick, and knew he really didn't want to know, he followed her inside.
As they entered the Clubhouse, the conversation halted. "Jesus," Clay said, looking at the blood on V.'s shirt. He turned towards Chibs. "Tell me we don't have to talk about how to get rid of a body."
Chibs laughed. "Nah." He grinned at V. "She let him live. Bastard probably wishes he was dead, though. She sure convinced him to talk."
"Why the fuck was V. the one doin' the convincing?" Jax asked. He looked at V., his face twisted in disgust, then grabbed one of her hands. Her knuckles were split and bloody. He nodded towards Chibs, showing him V.'s hands. "You let her do this? Way to keep her on a short leash."
"Hey," V. jerked her hand away from Jax. "What the fuck? I'm not on anybody's leash. The Club needed to know what this guy knew. Now you do."
"V. can handle herself," Chibs said, conveniently forgetting having to pull her away from the unconscious man.
"Then what the fuck did you learn?" Clay asked, impatient.
"Nords got leaned on to make way for the ATF," Chibs said. "By Russians with a beef with Sam Crow."
"Fucking Russians?" Clay looked momentarily puzzled. "What the hell do we have to do with…" he trailed off, focusing again on V. "Fuck."
"Yeah," V. nodded. "Sounds like this is blow-back from Leo." She sighed. "I'm sorry about that."
Clay shrugged her off. "We knew that was a possibility," he said. He looked at Chibs again. "What kinda condition is the Nazi motherfucker in?
Chibs couldn't help but smile. "Probably gonna feel pretty fuckin' stupid when he wakes up. Nose is broken. Ribs, probably. Needs some stitches." He shrugged. "He'll live." Then Chibs started to laugh. "He's fuckin' lucky he's still got balls, though."
Bobby was the first to laugh, but soon, every man in the room was chuckling, imagining the shithead's face when he realized he was getting his ass kicked by a girl. Only Jax didn't find it funny.
"This is fuckin' sick," Jax said, his voice rising to almost a panicked sound. He looked at V. "You shouldn't be doin' this shit." He looked first at Chibs, then at Clay. "And you shouldn't be askin' her to."
"Don't you dare tell me what who I should be askin' to do what for this Club," Clay say, warning in his voice. He looked at V. and smiled. "Sounds like you got the job done."
"Anytime," she responded.
Jax turned to stomp out of the room again, even more disgusted now than he had been earlier. Before he could get to the door, though, he met Happy coming in.
Coming into the room, Happy looked at V. "Off the bench?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"For the moment," she answered. She felt color rising in her cheeks. She hadn't been expecting to see Happy again so soon. Chill the fuck out, she told herself sternly. It was no big deal.
As Happy walked towards the Chapel with Clay, he leaned towards V. and spoke more softly. "How that's new ink?" he grinned in a way that made it clear exactly what he was talking about. Before she could answer, he was gone.
Watching Happy and Clay leave the room, V. got an uneasy feeling she couldn't quite place. She looked around and it slowly dawned on her. "Where's Aisha?"
Bobby, who had only just stopped laughing, began again. "She and Tig," he said, between laughs, "went away for the weekend."
"Went away for the…weekend?" V. looked at Bobby as if he was speaking another language.
"I know." Bobby was still cracking up. "Can you imagine them checkin' in?" Soon, the whole room was laughing again.
V. didn't laugh. She didn't like what she was hearing. Slowly, she turned to Jax. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, her voice low. "Alone?" He looked surprised, and suspicious, but he nodded, turning and heading towards the back of the Clubhouse.
Jax led V. into the room she'd lived in, closing the door behind them. "What?" He was clearly pissed off at her, but curious, too. What could she possibly have to tell him?
"That sit right with you?" she asked, concern clear on her face. "Tig taking Aisha out of town?"
Jax shrugged. "Nothing about that sits right with me," he said. "Whole thing is creepy as fuck. But I tried to talk to her about it and ended up with a fuckin' gun on my head."
V. furrowed her brow. "What the fuck?"
Briefly, Jax told her about Aisha's stealing his gun and holding it on him and the resulting scene.
"Good Lord." V. sighed. "She's fuckin' serious."
Jax snorted. "Serious? She's fuckin' crazy."
"Maybe," V. said. She didn't look convinced. "I don't give a fuck if she thinks she's his toy or not, though. She might be OK with the sonofabitch killing her, but I'm not."
"Do you know where she came from?" Jax asked, his heart sinking. After being afraid for Aisha's life only a few hours earlier, he felt stupid for not putting the pieces together when he heard Tig had taken her to Tahoe.
V. shook her head. "Why?"
Jax told her about his phone call from Hale.
"Jesus Christ, Jax! You already knew that and it didn't occur to you that maybe this little vacation was fucking weird? Or that maybe it's odd Happy is back so soon?" Her voice was higher than usual. "Are you fucking stupid?"
Jax glared at her. "Guess I got distracted," he said, his voice cold. "Seein' you with blood all over you does that to me."
V. shook her head. "We don't have time for this shit, Jax. This isn't about me. I can take care of myself. She can't."
Jax nodded. Much as he didn't want to admit it, V. was right. "Let me go talk to Clay," he said.
When V. and Jax returned to the main room of the Clubhouse, neither of them noticed the looks they were getting. Chibs grabbed V.'s arm and hissed in her ear. "What the fuck was that about? You breakin' my balls?"
V. shook her head. Just as she was going to tell him she'd explain it later, Clay came out of the Chapel. She was moving towards him, her mouth already open, when Jax caught her arm. "Don't," he warned. "I'll talk to him."
"Talk to me about what?" Clay said, eyeing V. and Jax suspiciously.
"Aisha," V. said, ignoring Jax.
Clay frowned. "Don't really need your opinion on that," he said.
"Didn't ask if you needed it," V. said, angry and concerned enough not to watch her tone.
V. was surprised when Clay reached out and grabbed her arm. "Don't forget who you're talkin' to," he hissed, shaking her slightly. He looked up at Chibs. "Take her home," he said. It was clearly an order. Then he turned to Jax and motioned towards the chapel. "Come on, let's hear what you think is so damn important."
V. was furious as Chibs led her out of the Clubhouse by her elbow, but she had the sense not to fight him. Jax would have a better chance than she would of getting the truth out of Clay anyway. He led her not towards her car, but his bike, waiting for her to settle on the back before he got on, then pulling her arms around his waist. She didn't say anything, but her whole tensed body felt pissed off. He wondered, as he steered the bike towards her apartment, how that would play out once they got there.
Once they were inside, V. turned on him just as he'd expected she might. "What the fuck is this about?" she demanded. "Am I your project now? You my think you're my fuckin' handler?" The door had just clicked behind him when she shoved him against it.
Chibs grinned. She was pissed. It was cute, actually. He grabbed one of her hands hand from his chest and lowered it onto his crotch. "You can be my handler, if you'd rather," he said.
"I'm not fucking kidding!" She pulled her hand back as if it were on fire.
"I know." He was still smiling. "And if you wanna take a swing at me, princess, do it. But it's not gonna change anything. Clay doesn't trust you yet. Thinks you need…supervision. Just be glad I'm it." He linked his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer to him.
Her eyes were still blazing, and he thought for a moment that she would take that swing at him, but she didn't. He wanted to ask her about what she'd said to Jax, but knew it would only take things further off track. He wondered if he could tease her into relaxing against him, starting up where they'd left off against the garage. Maybe give her a minute, he thought. He looked over her shoulder around the little apartment. She was a shitty housekeeper. The furniture they'd broken the night before he'd left for Nevada was still where they'd left it, the room strewn with clothing, butts, and bottles. He lowered his head slowly, moving his lips to her ear. "Get on your knees." It was a risk, but a calculated one.
"I've told you," she hissed, her eyes flashing, "I don't take orders."
He grinned. "Sure you do." He moved his hands from her waist to her shoulders, shoving her down hard, so that she was forced to her knees in front of him. He kept one hand in her hair, holding her down, while he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants with the other. Once she was faced with his cock, he lowered the hand from her hair, reasonably sure she would stay on her knees now, and ran his thumb down her jaw line. "If you bite me," he said, his voice remaining low, "I will break your jaw."
He tried to keep control of his responses once she was taking him down her throat, but it was more difficult than he'd anticipated. She kept looking up at him, her eyes still furious, as her lips worked around him, and it was more than he could take. "Christ," he moaned, his head thrown back against the door, coming into her mouth.
V. let Chibs slide to the floor and gave him a minute, maybe less, to recover. Then she fixed him with a still infuriated expression. "I hope you don't think you're done," she said.