Here it is…the chapter that changes Juice's future. This chapter is one of the reasons I decided to write this entire story in the first place. I'm so nervous to hear about what you all think, and I truly hope you like it. Please review and let me know!

Only one more chapter after this one before it's all over! I've already started writing my next fic and I'll tell you all more about it in the author's note of Chapter 54.

Trigger Warning: I don't want to spoil the chapter for anyone, so all I will say is that some scenes in this chapter are very similar to what went down on the show (anxiety, depression, suicidal ideations).

OK, let's do this…

Chapter 53

A rush of happiness that Gracie never even knew was possible flooded every cell in her body as she thought about the life growing inside of her. I can't believe this. I can't believe this is real. There's a little part of Juan Carlos alive in me right now. We're going to have a baby. We're going to have a family. A huge, awestruck smile spread across her face as she wondered how in the world this had happened. She had been on the pill since before she ever met Juice, but when he went to prison, she was admittedly bad about remembering to take it. I mean, it wasn't like I was having sex with anyone, and I was so stressed out and miserable. It was a miracle I remembered to eat every day, let alone take my birth control. Looking back on it now, she was almost certain she'd accidentally skipped a few pills the week before he was released, just because she had been too excited and nervous to focus on much of anything.

Rubbing her still flat stomach, she realized that her period was only two or three days late, and that her pregnancy must be in the earliest of stages. Then she smiled thinking back to the day Juice got out of Stockton and the crazy, intense reunion sex they'd had for hours without end. Yep, that must have been the day.

Gracie buried her face in her hands and, still sitting in the little bathroom, cried out all of her happy tears. Then she jumped up, ran to the kitchen, and grabbed her phone, dialing Juice's number. She couldn't wait another minute until the love of her life and the center of her whole world knew that he was going to be a father.


"Hey, man. Are you ok?"

Juice looked up when he heard Miles voice and nodded. "Yeah. I'm good."

"Are you sure? I mean, you look kinda pale and…"

"I said I was fucking good! What part of that don't you understand?"

Miles immediately backed away, putting his hands defensively in the air. "Sorry. I get it. You're good. I'm, uh, gonna walk around the perimeter again."

"Shit!" Juice cursed quietly to himself at the way he'd just blown up at his brother and how he just couldn't get a fucking hold on his feelings. I'm losing it…no, fuck. I'm already lost. Tonight is my last chance. I've stood out here every night for a week, trying to decide to either come clean to the club or steal the fucking coke for Roosevelt. And tonight is the last night. In the morning, the cartel and the Mayans will come and take the drugs, and I'll be fucked. The feds and the cops will come after the club, Roosevelt will tell Jax about my dad and I'll lose my patch, Gracie will find out that I'm a liar, and I'll lose fucking everything. I'll lose everything. I'll lose everything. I'll lose everything.

He beat his hands against his head in a vain attempt to quiet the voices in his head. His mind had been mercilessly racing without reprieve, and he'd probably slept a total of six hours in the last five days. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and had forced himself to stay as far away from Gracie as possible. He just couldn't let her see him like this. He'd never been this far gone in his entire life, and he felt like he was dying; all the lies and the secrets and the fears killing him slowly from the inside out.

Suddenly he was hit with one singular emotion so hard that he could barely stand; absolute, overwhelming, all consuming loneliness. He'd always felt lonely, ever since he was born to two parents who never gave a shit about him, surrounded by people that could never accept or understand him. It got a little better once he joined the MC, but he still knew that he was on his own. All his brothers cared for him, but they had their own families and better friends that they would always love more.

The loneliness never really went away until he met Gracie. Gracie, the sweet, beautiful miracle that literally stumbled into his life. Gracie, the only person in the world that loved him more than she loved anyone else. Gracie, the only reason he was still breathing.

Fuck, I can't. I can't lose her. I can't lose her. I can't be alone. I can't…I can't…I can't…He felt himself start to hyperventilate as he watched Miles walk back around the side of the building and stand in front of the doors. And just for a moment, Juice thought about how easy it would be…

What if I stole the drugs? Would that really be so bad? Yeah, I'd be a worthless, pathetic rat, but Roosevelt would never tell the club that I'm black, I wouldn't lose my patch, Gracie would stay with me…maybe it would all be ok. Then his tired, frantic eyes focused again on Miles. It would be so simple. We're the only one's here. All I would have to do is kill him…Juice took his gun out of his holster and ran the cool metal of the barrel against his aching head. Just one shot to the head. He wouldn't know it was coming. He wouldn't even feel it. Then I could take the coke, and hit myself with the butt of my gun. It would look like a robbery, like we were ambushed, like Miles was killed by an outsider, like I was attacked from behind and wasn't able to stop it…

Then as fast as the thought ran through his mind, a wave of nausea and self hatred overtook him. Oh my fucking god. Am I really that crazy? How could I even think that? How could I even think about killing one of my brothers to save my own selfish life? Everyone was right. My whole life, everyone was right. I'm nothing. I'm less than nothing. I'm a liar and a coward and a fucking murderer. I don't deserve to be in the club, I don't deserve to wear this kutte, and I sure as fuck don't deserve to live a life with Gracie.

Before he even knew what was happening, his hands were resting on his knees and he was bent over, vomiting all over the ground. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he thought he heard Miles running up to him and ask if he was alright. But in that moment, as darkness consumed him, all he saw was a life without Gracie and how he knew, with unwavering certainty, that he wouldn't survive it.

When he felt Miles pat him on the back, Juice quickly stood up, wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his black hoodie, and started walking quickly towards his bike.

"Yo, Juice! Where the hell are you going, man?"

He ignored Miles and just climbed onto his Harley, revving his engine and flying as fast as he could down the road away from the warehouse. He finally knew what he had to do to make everything right.


All Juice felt was emptiness as he rode past the Charming city limits and out to the countryside. For the first time in weeks, the endless stream of thoughts had finally stopped. The voices were gone. The anxiety had calmed. At last able to breathe, he actually felt a little relieved.

When he pulled off to the side of the road, in the same spot where he'd been countless times before, he climbed off of his bike and took off his helmet, hanging it from one of his handlebars. Then he reached into one of his side compartments and pulled out a long metal chain that he'd always kept there in case of an emergency.

With the chain held loosely in his hands, he went to the nearby field and started walking, his steps following the same beaten down path of overgrown grass that they'd trekked down every time he'd come there. It was pitch black outside, and there was only moonlight to his way. But he really didn't need it. Juice had been there so many times, he could have walked it blindfolded.

After a few minutes, he was there; the little pond in the woods that had been his only solace in the years before he met Gracie, and the place where her had taken her on their first date. They had talked there, laughed there, made love there, and it was his favorite place in the world. It was right where he needed to be.

Juice stood there in the darkness and looked out over the water. It was completely still and calm, with only an occasional ripple moving softly over its surface when the redwood leaves would fall. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, focusing on the smell and the sound and the feel of the gentle night breeze that surrounded him. Then after a few moments, he turned towards the woods and walked to the nearest tree.

He took off his kutte, letting his fingers run over the leather for a few moments, before folding it carefully and placing it on the ground. Then he reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out his phone. The screen showed that he had four missed calls, and he didn't need to look to know that all of them were from his wife. He placed the phone down on his kutte and then, without a second of hesitation, placed the metal chain around his neck so that he could start climbing up the branches.

When he reached one of the limbs that was far enough up from the ground, he stared at the chain for a moment before securing it tightly around his neck. Then he looped the other end around the base of the tree limb and moved a few inches out so he could sit.

He expected to feel hopeless or sad or scared. But for the first time in as long as he could remember, Juan Carlos Ortiz felt completely at peace. He was doing what was right, doing something selfless, confident in his belief that everyone he loved would be better off without him.

Just before he went to move, he closed his eyes and thought of Gracie. The blush in her cheeks the morning they met, the way her hair shimmered in the sun the first time he took her on his bike, the sound of her voice the first time she said that she loved him, the feel of her body underneath of his the first time they made love. The day she moved into his apartment, the day she'd given him her dad's compass, the moment she agreed to marry him, and the look in her eyes when she said her vows.

But his very last thought was a simple prayer. God, forgive me for what I'm about to do. And please let Gracie be happy.

And then he opened his eyes, took one more breath, and jumped.


The second that he felt himself fall, Juice knew he wanted to live. The chain tightened around his neck just as his thoughts regained some clarity, and the reality of what was happening seized him with panic. He didn't know what would happen to him once the club found out the truth, and he didn't know if Gracie would leave him. The only thing he knew for certain was that he didn't want to die.

Juice tried to wedge his fingers between the chain and his neck in a desperate attempt to get some air, but the tension was simply too strong. He flailed his legs madly, terrified that it was simply too late to undo what he did; but then, just when he was starting to black out from the lack of oxygen, he heard the limb he was hanging on start to break.

With a loud snap, Juice fell hard to the ground, the chain immediately loosening. He gasped in a few huge breaths and peeled the metal from his neck, flinging it as far away from him as possible. Then after a few minutes, when he regained the strength in his legs, he crawled up from the ground, picked up his phone and his kutte, and started walking unsteadily back to his bike.


Gracie had been pacing the floor of her living room for the last two hours. She'd called Juice several times and left countless texts, but he had yet to respond to her. Honestly, she didn't expect him to call her back. He'd gone out of his way all week to barely speak a word to her. But he almost always texted her back, at least something short just to let her know he was ok. So as she stared helplessly at her still silent phone, she knew in her heart that something was wrong.

She was about to call Jax to see if he knew where Juice was when she heard the unmistakable sound of her husband's Dyna pulling into the driveway.

Gracie closed her eyes and sighed. Oh, thank God. Filled with relief, she ran to the front door and opened it, but as soon as she caught sight of Juice's face, her relief disappeared.

When he walked past her and into their living room, she could see the way his whole body was shaking. She took a tentative step towards him and placed one of her hands on his arm. "Juice?"

At the sound of her scared, quiet voice, he turned around to face her, but when he tried to look into those pretty green eyes, he was overcome with shame. He glanced down nervously to the floor and ran his trembling hands over his head, trying like hell to make sense of the thoughts running through his head. He didn't even realize he'd started crying. "I don't want to die, Gracie Jane. I just…you know I don't like being alone. I've told you before, I'm not…I'm just not good on my own. My head gets so loud and nothing syncs up. I start thinking about my thinking and get lost in the details of nothing."

Tears fell down her cheeks as she looked on in confusion at the broken, lost man standing in front of her. "Juice, what are you…" She took a step closer to him, but her breath caught in her throat when she saw the angry, reddened bruise around his collar. "Baby, what…"

She shoved the kutte off of his shoulders and unzipped his hoodie, pulling it back and revealing the mark of the chain that marred the perfect, smooth skin of his neck. It took just a moment for her to accept what the bruising meant, but as soon as she looked up and saw Juice's face, she knew.

Suddenly, something inside of her broke. "No…no, no. Juice, no…no…" She couldn't catch her breath, crying harder than she ever had in her life. Worse than the day her mother died, worse than when she found out her father had been killed. Nothing had ever been as bad as that moment. Nothing was even close.

Juice placed his hands on her cheeks and choked out a few words between his tears. "I'm sorry, Gracie Jane. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She was hysterical, shaking her head frantically back and forth, as she tried desperately to catch her breath between sobs. "Why….why would you…oh, god!" Grief racked her body for a few more minutes until she looked down at her stomach and suddenly remembered the tiny little life growing inside.

She looked up at Juice with wide, horrified eyes, her voice begging him while her tears fell like rain. "Please! Juice, please…please don't leave me, please don't leave us. I can't do this alone, baby. We need you! Please, please…oh god, please don't leave us…"

He stared at her questioningly, heartbroken and lost. "Us?"

Then she took one of his hands and placed it on her stomach. He looked down at the hand she was holding against her belly, and then, hit hard with both amazing joy and gut-wrenching sadness, he looked back up into her eyes. "A baby?"

As soon as she nodded, Juice completely lost it, wrapping his arms around Gracie's waist and clinging to her like a lifeline. The mournful cry that escaped him came from deep within his body. He cried for the pain that plagued him his entire life, for the devastation that he'd caused the person he loved most in the world, and for the way he'd almost caused his baby to grow up without a father.

Neither one had the strength to stand anymore, so without letting go of one another, they simply sank to the floor, holding each other for hours until there were no more tears left to shed. At some point, Juice told her everything; the truth about his father, the bylaw that could take away his patch, the club's involvement with the cartel, and the way Roosevelt had blackmailed him in an attempt to get him to rat out the club. He told her about how scared he'd been that she would leave him, how his OCD had dismantled his thinking, and how he'd been so desperate that he truly believed his only option was to end it all. And then he just cried some more.

At some point in the night, the utter exhaustion that he had experienced for over a week settled in, and Juice finally fell asleep, still lying on the floor in Gracie's arms.

When she saw his eyes close and his breathing even out, Gracie ran her fingers lightly over his tear-stained cheek and softly kissed his lips before carefully removing herself from his arms and climbing quietly up off the floor. Then she went to the small dining area, sat down in one of the chairs, and placed her head in her hands. She replayed every one of Juice's words in her mind a thousand times and then, after about an hour of sitting in silence and thinking, she grabbed her phone and slipped outside, certain of what she needed to do.

She stood alone on her porch in the middle of the night and dialed one of the numbers she knew by heart. And as soon as he answered, she somehow found her voice. "Don't ask questions and don't tell anyone where you're going. Just get here as fast as you can."

Barely five minutes later, Gracie was still sitting on her front step when she saw Chibs' Harley pull up in front of her house.

He quickly followed the path up the short walkway, but when he got close enough to see her face, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Jesus Christ, Grace. What wrong, love? What happened?"

She crossed the small distance between them and placed her hands on his cheeks, unable to stop her tears from escaping. "Do you mean it when you tell me you love me?"

His always warm brown eyes were filled with worry, his voice betraying his confusion. "Gracie, what the hell are you talking about?"

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and bit her lip, closing her eyes for just a moment before meeting his gaze once more. "You tell me all the time that I'm your family, that you'd do anything for me, that you love me. And I need to know, right now, do you mean it?"

Chibs placed one of his hands on her cheek and brushed away a falling tear with his thumb. "Of course I mean it, sweet girl. You're my family, and I love you with all my heart."

"Then help me." As soon as the words left her mouth, she wrapped her arms desperately around his neck and crushed herself against him; his arms circling her waist and holding her tightly, catching her just before she fell.


When Juice woke up, he was still lying on his living room carpet, but there was a blanket covering his body and a pillow underneath his head. He had no idea what time it was, but traces of sunlight were creeping threw the curtains so he knew it had to be close to sunrise. He sat up and looked around the room for Gracie, but froze when he saw her sitting at their dining room table next to Chibs.

Terror crept over his face as he looked at his brother and then over to his wife. "Gracie, what the fuck did you do?"

She walked over to where he was sitting and offered out her hand, helping him off the floor, before placing a hand on the side of his bruised and swollen neck. "I told him, Juice. I told him everything."

Panic flooded his eyes until Chibs got up and walked over, hugging him tightly. "Jesus Christ, boy. What the hell were you thinking?"

Still too emotionally spent from the night before, Juice couldn't say anything. He just wrapped his arms around his friend and cried.

A few minutes later, when Juice had taken a few deep breaths and composed himself, he wiped his tears away and looked up at his brother. "What do I do here, man?"

Chibs looked down at Juice's neck and shuttered before sighing. "I called church, Juicey. You and Grace are going to get cleaned up and change your clothes. Then we're going to go to the clubhouse, and you're going to come clean about it all."

When Chibs saw the fear and regret written all over his friend, he shook his head. "If what Grace said is true, you're no rat. You never gave Roosevelt the coke or told him anything that could hurt the club. The way I see it, it's just like when Stahl offered me the deal to protect Kerrianne and Fiona if I would have given up Jimmy. As much as I hated myself, I had to consider it. They were my family. But in the end, I didn't rat and that's all that matters. This is exactly the same. You were scared and not thinking straight, boy. You thought you were going to lose your family, too. But you didn't go through with it, Juicey. That's what we need to tell them today."

Juice looked up to the ceiling and shook his head. "What about my father?"

"Fuck, boy. Half the guys in the MC don't know who their fathers are. Your birth certificate says you're Hispanic. That's the only thing that counts. It's a stupid fucking rule anyway."

Juice placed his hands on his hips and then looked down to the floor. "But I lied about so much. And what about…" He paused a moment as a surge of self-loathing coursed through his body. "What about this?" Without looking up, he pointed to the red and purple ring around his neck. He knew that another one of the old bylaws said that killing yourself was a cowards way out and that it could result in losing your patch.

Chibs placed his hands around Juice's neck and forced him to meet his gaze. "All that you can say is that you realized that it was a mistake and you changed your mind. Whatever happens after that is up to Jax and everyone else." Then Chibs turned to look at the woman he loved like a daughter and nodded his head. "Come on, sweet girl. Take him and go get ready. It's time."


An hour later, Gracie was in her car following Juice and Chibs as they pulled into the lot on their bikes. The three of them walked into the clubhouse together where the rest of the club was already waiting inside the chapel.

Gracie grabbed the front of Juice's kutte and kissed him soundly, pouring every ounce of love she had for him into her touch. Then she slowly pulled back and rested her forehead against his. "Now you listen to me, Juan Carlos. Whatever happens in there, whatever they decide, I will be waiting for you. No matter what we have to do or where we have to go, I will never leave you and I will never regret it." Then she placed one of his hands against her stomach. "You and this baby are my entire life. And being with the two of you is all that matters. We love you. Forever."

Juice could only nod before kissing her cheek, turning away from her, and making his way into the chapel.

Chibs went to follow him, but before he could take a step, Gracie grabbed his arm and turned him around. She knew what would happen in the chapel. Juice would reveal everything and then the guys would vote on whether or not he would lose his patch. But Gracie didn't really care about that. All that mattered was the small possibility that, if he did lose his patch or if they believe he ratted, someone could call for a Mayhem vote. She didn't know the rules regarding the patch vote, but she did know that for someone to meet Mr. Mayhem, the vote had to be unanimous.

She placed her hands firmly on the sides of her Scotsman's face and pulled him close as she fought back her tears. "I don't care if he loses his patch. I don't care if you black out his ink and take his kutte and send us away. Just…just don't let them hurt him."

For what seemed like the hundredth time in the last few hours, Chibs wiped away the tears on her cheeks and kissed her forehead. Then he just silently nodded before going to the chapel to be with his brothers.

Then, without really thinking about it, Gracie turned on her heel and walked out of the clubhouse towards her car. She knew that church would take a while, and she planned on being back well before it got out. But right now, there was something she had to do.


Gracie's sadness grew into anger with every mile she got closer to her destination, so by the time she pulled up in front of the Sheriff's station, she was fucking furious.

She walked past the reception area and the rows of officers until she saw Eli Roosevelt's office.

As soon as she saw her walking towards him, Eli came out of his office and grinned. "Hey, Grace. What are doing…"

But before he could finish his sentence, Gracie used all of her strength to bring her flattened hand up to his face and slap Sheriff Roosevelt as hard as she could.

Within seconds, three officers were at her side, holding her arms down, as tears streamed down her face.

Eli placed one of his hands on his stinging cheek and took a step closer to her. "Grace, what the hell…"

"I know what you did."

A look of shame crossed over his face as he took in the hurt, broken woman in front of him. He told his officers to let her go as he took a step closer to her, whispering softly. "Grace, you don't understand. I had to do my job. I had to…"

Gracie raised her eyes to his and shook her head, her whisper just as quiet but filled with rage. "What I understand is that you're a sorry piece of shit that plays with people's lives in order to manipulate them. What I understand is that you don't care about how many good people you destroy as long as you get what you want." The she took a step back and looked at him with more hatred than she ever thought possible. "How the fuck can you live with yourself?"

Without waiting for a response, she turned her back on him and walked out of the building, climbed into her car, and raced back to the clubhouse.


Gracie tried to sit patiently on one of the barstools, but after an hour of waiting, she gave up and started nervously pacing the floor.

Then finally, after a few more minutes, her head snapped up when she heard to doors to the chapel open and she saw Juice walking out with Chibs' arm slung around his shoulder.

And Juice was smiling.

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