Chapter Forty-Eight: Playing Catch Up
"We might have to take a break from making up for lost time," I sighed as Tig climbed off me. It was morning and I'd been awoken by Tig's erection pressing into my back. He fell back onto the sheets, still breathing hard, and laughed an exhilarated laugh.
"You don't wanna do this, you can go back to Charming, doll," He joked. I hit him playfully. Evidently, a Tig without sex was an unhappy Tig- I didn't think I'd seen him smile so much in all the years I'd known him as he had since I had arrived the evening before. I grinned to myself at the thought as I got out of bed. Even without the added bonus of Tig being here, it was nice to be away from Charming and all the drama and misery it had brought me lately. I slipped Tig's shirt back on and went over to my bag, which was lying exactly where I'd unceremoniously abandoned it on the floor the previous night. Tig pushed himself up against the pillows so that his head was raised as he watched me. I first removed the Glock, placing it on the side, and then my phone, which I finally switched back on. At last, I got to the scan picture. I grinned wider as I walked back over to the bed.
"What's that?" Tig wanted to know. I sat beside him and hesitated a second before handing the picture to him. He looked at it and I watched his face as he looked at our baby. For a while he said nothing, he just stared at it, but then I saw a smile tilt the corners of his mouth up. He moved his gaze to me. "I guess this is really happening, huh, Kitten?" He said. His voice was strangely thick with emotion. I nodded.
"That's what I thought, too," I admitted. He squeezed my hand before sitting up, kissing me on the cheek.
"Come on, let's go find breakfast." He led me down to the kitchen. Gemma wasn't down there and neither was her father, so I hunted through the cupboards for food. Tig's phone rang and he looked at the name. "Shit, it's Clay," He cursed.
"I'm sorry," I said, but I smiled. He ducked out of the room, leaving me to continue the search for sustenance. I located bread and some cheese, and settled on sandwiches for now. Tig, surprisingly, was only gone for a few minutes- it seemed like Clay had let him off lightly, though I suspected he was saving the lecture for me. I carried the sandwiches over to the table, feeling as odd as I ever did whenever Tig and I find ourselves acting remotely domestic and normal, only to find him gazing at the cabinet in the corner. He walked over to it, an ugly expression on his face. Putting the plates down, I wandered over to stand beside him. He opened the doors as if in a trance. Inside, I noticed there were doll figurines. He reached in and began turning them away, mumbling under his breath.
"Uh, Tig?" I questioned quietly, "Um, honey, are you okay?"
"I hate dolls," He muttered. I raised my eyebrows; I'd never heard that before.
"Why?" He just shook his head and carried on with what he was doing. At that moment, Gemma entered the room. I threw her a questioning look as she approached.
"Look away, look away..." Tig was saying as he faced the last of the dolls away.
"Let me guess," Gemma spoke, looking amused.
"They were freaking me out," Tig explained distastefully. I shrugged at Gemma and she shrugged back as Tig sat down at the table, looking thoroughly put-out. I followed suit, while Gemma took one of the figurines out and placed it on the table in front of him.
"This one's my favourite," She announced.
"Jesus Christ," Tig slung a napkin over it immediately. I giggled and he looked around at me as if just remembering I was there after his doll ordeal. Of all the things for the tough guy to be afraid of, it was dolls. I guessed that ruled out the parenting classes Tara had mentioned that took place up at the hospital- Tig would likely have a fit if he was expected to practice putting diapers on a doll- not that I'd seriously considered going to them, anyway.
"You talk to Clay?" Gemma asked him tentatively as she too took a seat, facing me.
"Yeah, yeah he knows we're here," Tig replied, as I took a bite of my sandwich.
"Was he pissed?" Of course, Gemma wasn't supposed to have gone anywhere. I wondered how she'd convinced Tig to spirit her away from the Oregon charter.
"Gem, he had other things on his mind," Tig sighed, nodding at me, "Like this one running away. And the drive-by." I was relieved Clay hadn't mentioned the stalking thing, at any rate. I nudged him playfully.
"I only ran away because you asked me to," I reminded him, earning a smile, "And… well, yeah. The drive by."
"So what exactly happened?" Tig asked. Gemma looked at me with interest- I'd only given her an overview the previous night, and I guessed they were both feeling out of the loop having been away from Charming for so long, so I filled in the blanks.
"...Some kid got shot and… Hale died." I glanced at Tig. He showed no emotion for the Deputy Chief, of course. I hadn't expected him to, really. Still, Gemma looked quite shocked.
"Shit. Wasn't he about to take over as Chief?"
"Yeah. Seems like Unser's staying on 'til they find a replacement. I don't know what the hold up is though- probably the Sheriff's office intervening." Gemma hissed.
"Man, I hate being away." I saw Tig nod furtively in agreement. None of us could say anymore though, because at that moment Amelia the caretaker walked in.
"Morning," She said. Acting on Gemma's tip, I watched her.
"Morning," Tig chorused back politely. She cast her eyes back at him with interest while he looked away. Feeling ruffled, I nudged my bare foot against his under the table. He moved his back against mine, his blue eyes moving to my face. He raised an eyebrow and I just dropped my gaze to the plate. Really, I was resorting to footsie? Meanwhile, Gemma was asking Amelia about her Dad.
"...Nate's care facility will be ready for him day after tomorrow, and there's a buyer for the house, trust has been set up," Amelia was reciting. Was it my imagination or did her gaze keep flickering back to Tig? He seemed oblivious as he paid attention to the conversation. I rolled my eyes at myself and finished up eating. An old man wandered into the room at that moment. I looked at him; he didn't look anything like his daughter, but that wasn't unusual. I didn't look anything like Clay, after all. He had that same air that I'd seen on so many elderly people- the lights are on but nobody's home. Privately, I thought I'd rather be shot than end up like that, not even able to recognise my own family. Nate seemed confused as he sat down at the table. He was talking about Gemma's mother, who I knew was dead, disliking things being out of place. I exchanged a look with her but she just shrugged helplessly. Tig ducked out, trying to get through to Clay for Gemma, while I watched father and daughter converse. It seemed weird to think of Gemma as anyone's child, really, but I could see how much she loved her Dad.
"Been a long time, Daddy," She was saying. He nodded over his coffee.
"Yeah. How old are you now?" He asked her.
"Fifty-three," Gemma answered. He looked over at me.
"Who are you?" He questioned. I didn't take offence; after all, I hadn't actually met him yet.
"I'm Eliza," I introduced myself, "Thank you for having me."
"This is my step-daughter, Dad," Gemma explained further. Nate frowned.
"I didn't know John had a girl," He muttered distractedly. I fought to keep my shock off my face; he was talking about John Teller, Jackson's father. Gemma looked as taken aback as I was, but recovered quickly.
"Oh no, Daddy, this is Clay's daughter. I'm married to Clay now, remember?" He didn't look as if he did, but he also looked like he didn't want to admit that. So he just nodded and looked at me for a minute before looking away. I had the feeling he'd forget me again before too long. Tig walked back in at that moment.
"I got Clay, Gemma," He told my step-mother.
"Who the hell are you?" Nate demanded, standing up and looking frightened. I saw Gemma glanced towards Amelia. Feeling out of my depth as Gemma tried to explain to Nate that he'd met Tig the previous night, I ducked out of the room and onto the porch, following Tig. He was on the phone, explaining that Gemma would call Clay later on. He nodded to me and indicated the phone in his hand, but I shook my head; I really didn't feel like fielding twenty questions right then. Once he hung up, Tig turned to me and wrapped his arms around me again.
"You're getting soft on me, Tigger," I accused, "Anyone'd think you're a nice guy."
"I am a nice guy," He shrugged, "To you." I laughed at that. "So Hale's dead, huh?"
"Yeah," I sighed, "The van hit him, I think. I went to his funeral." Tig looked down at me, eyebrow raised. "I owed him that much. Plus, by the way, he did drop the charges against you."
"As long as he didn't try to kiss you again," Tig said darkly. I rolled my eyes and put my arms around him again.
"Kissing a dead guy? That's more your thing than mine," I joked. He chuckled and rubbed his hands up and down my back. It really was so quiet here- so much quieter than Charming, which always had some sort of noise going on in the background whether it was traffic, voices or Harley engines.
"How's everything with you, though, Kitten?" He asked seriously. I looked up, meeting his grey-blue eyes. I was dreading this conversation. Honestly, I felt bad about keeping the stalking stuff from him for so long and I didn't think he'd take it well- neither the secret nor, worse, the fact itself. Still, I knew it had to be done- if I didn't tell him, the club would. I could tell he knew there was something, though- his expression was expectant. I opened my mouth but before I could begin, we were interrupted by Amelia.
"Hey, sorry," She added to me, not sounding or looking sorry at all, "Could you, uh, maybe open this for me? Can't get the lid off." She was proffering a jar.
"Sure," Tig said, a little distractedly, taking it from her. He popped it open and handed it back.
"Wow, you made it look easy," Amelia gushed, smiling. I glared at her. She could not be serious with the old flatter him about his manly muscles line? "Thanks."
"Any time," He returned. She grinned brightly before going back inside. I frowned; Gemma was right about that bitch, I needed to keep an eye on her. Tig was looking back down at me, waiting for me to answer his question. Pushing slutty Guatemalan caretakers out of my mind, I began to explain.
Needless to say, Tig was not pleased when I finished telling him everything. In fact, he was angry. He'd turned and marched through the house, up the stairs and into the room we'd claimed. I followed him, slightly alarmed, to find him checking his gun had a full round.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Getting ready to kill the bastard who's been hassling you," He replied, in a deadly calm voice which sent a chill down my spine.
"Tig," I said pleadingly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded, "I could've done something..."
"Done what? Tig, they never show up when you or one of the others is around. And they haven't actually done anything to hurt me..." I was surprised at how rational I sounded, especially considering the fact that I was actually quite frightened about the situation, on the whole.
"I would never have left if I knew this was happening to you, Eliza!" The use of my first name in such an angry tone brought me up short, "All this shit about needing to protect Gemma, about that being the most important thing- bullshit! The creep could've just been waiting for me to leave before they-" He couldn't finish the sentence but he was staring down at me.
"Tig, it wasn't like I was back there alone. Chibs was there, and even Kozik-"
"Kozik! So now that fucker's involved too?"
"He's not involved," I began, but he cut me off.
"Yeah! See, everyone is doing a great job of looking after my old lady," He strode across the room, closing the gap between us furiously, "Except me! Maybe you should just go be Chibs' old lady, since he's done such a good job of being there for you while I've been away!" I was frozen to the spot. I could see the crazy in Tig then, for the first time in a while. It scared me.
"Tig," I breathed.
"What?" He snapped, and I flinched. His knuckles were turning white as he gripped his gun, which he was holding at his side.
"Tig, put the gun down," I said, trying to sound calm. He glared down at me for a second but then I saw something flicker in his eyes and they changed from bright and furious to more rational, yet still cold. He strode back to the dresser, where he put the gun down besides my phone. Then he stepped away from it, turning around. I exhaled.
"Sorry, Kitten," He said in a low voice. I could tell he was still angry beneath the surface but that he was genuinely sorry for having scared me, "I'd never hurt you."
"I know," I assured him, coming a few steps closer to him again just to show him that I was over it. He looked as relieved as I felt at this move. The fight seemed to go out of him.
"I'm sorry for saying that about Chibs," He told me, "I mean… I just don't get why you didn't tell me, baby."
"Look at how you just reacted. Even before we were together, when I told you about the first car, you were really edgy. And I didn't wanna involve the club and I knew you'd tell Clay about it. I mean, that went out the window when the weirdo showed up at TM, but..." I shrugged, looking up at him imploringly. "Please don't be mad at me, Tig. I didn't keep it from you to… you know… keep secrets."
"I know," He told me, reaching up to rub his eyes. He looked distressed. "Look, Kitten, it's driven me fucking crazy being stuck without you. I don't care if that makes me a pussy- I love ya too much to be apart from you. I only got through it without going batshit insane 'cause I thought you were safe with Zobelle and Weston out the picture. Fuck." He kicked the dresser angrily, "What kind of man am I to just let this kind of shit go unnoticed?"
"Tig, it's not your fault," I told him, approaching him with some caution. "I'm sorry I kept it from you."
"Well look at the fucking state of me- I can't fucking blame you." I shook my head as I took his hands. They were shaking ever so slightly.
"I'm sorry, Tiggy," I said softly. He stared me down for a minute and then he sighed and dropped his head down onto my shoulder. I put my arms around him and held him.
"I just wanna be there to take care of you," He murmured.
"I can take care of myself," I pointed out, smiling to myself. He stood up straight and I was pleased to see the gleam return to his eye.
"I know one way I can take care of you right now..." He breathed, brushing his hand across his crotch. I looked in disbelief at the bulge straining at his zipper. He definitely had the libido of a much younger man, that was for sure. I looked up at him; he had a shit-eating grin in place now.
A/N: So Tig finally knows about the stalker! And he reacted just as well as you might expect. Don't think this is the last you're gonna hear of it from him either. Also, that caretaker! Eliza does not like her flirting with Tig, does she? ;)
