Chibs' voice was a distant echo. Faint, almost as if I were underwater. So faint, in fact, that I thought I was dreaming. I passed it off for what I thought was once, but when his voice became louder and clearer, I realized that I was not dreaming, and knew he had probably been yelling at me for ten minutes or more. He might have been at it for hours. Who knows? I know I was not counting. I was trying to sleep.
"Callie?" he called.
I opened my eyes and looked around the room. The lights were off, sunlight coming in through the curtains. I blinked and closed my eyes again. I was seconds from falling asleep again when the ceiling fan light and the light above the closet came on.
"Callie!" Chibs said strictly.
My heart jumped and I was ripped back to consciousness.
"Wha…?" I mumbled.
"Are ya seriously still sleepin'?" he asked, voice cracking as it jumped an octave.
My eyes snapped open and I narrowed them angrily. I hated being woken up, but not only being woken up out of a dead sleep, but a dead sleep that made me forget that I didn't feel good.
I felt the mattress suddenly bounce under his weight and I nearly whipped around and shoved him to the floor.
"Ya gonna sleep all day, love?" he asked.
I groaned.
"What time is it?" I asked tiredly.
Chibs sighed, exasperated.
"It's noon. Callie, c'mon," he pleaded, shaking my shoulder.
"Chibs, stop!" I whined into the pillow.
He huffed.
"What's wrong, love?" he asked.
"I don't feel good," I grumbled, "Leave me alone."
I immediately regretted saying that. I had never pushed him away like that, especially when I didn't feel well, and I could sense his hesitation.
"What's goin' on, Cal?" he asked, taking a softer tone, "Ya got a cold?"
I felt his warm hand touch my forehead and cheeks.
"You're not hot," he said.
I curled in on myself and buried my face in the comforter.
"Ya got a headache?" he asked.
"No, but if you jostle the bed one more time, I'm going to puke on you," I said darkly.
I didn't have to look at him to know he was instantly concerned. I could feel it.
"Ah, shit. Did ya catch a stomach bug?" he asked.
"I just feel nauseous," I replied.
He sighed, then as carefully and slowly as he could, moved to lay behind me. He draped an arm around my stomach and I felt he breath on my neck. I really didn't need his body heat right now, as it only made the rolling in my stomach worse, but I didn't have the energy to object.
"Have ya thrown up or anythin'?" he asked.
I shook my head. He hummed thoughtfully, and I felt his hand run across my stomach.
"Maybe we finally knocked ya up," he said playfully.
I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him.
"I don't know. Probably just acid indigestion. Could you go get me some TUMS or something?" I asked.
He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
"Absolutely," he replied, then slipped off of the bed to retrieve what I hoped would cure me for the day.
I closed my eyes again and laid still, willing my stomach to calm down when Chibs returned with a bottle of antacid tablets and a glass of water. He set the items down on my nightstand and kissed my forehead.
"Need anythin' else?" he asked.
I opened my eyes to see the bottle and glass and shook my head. He ruffled my hair.
"'Kay. Try and see if ya can get around. We got church and I ain't leavin' ya here by yourself," he said.
I nodded.
"If not, I'll call our dear Venus and have her babysit ya," he continued.
"Well, call Tiggy, too. Don't you dare ride alone," I said.
"I won't, love. I'll call him. See if ya can get your stomach settled first, though," he replied.
I nodded.
"Thank-you," I said.
"Welcome, sweetheart," he said softly, then left me alone to get ready—or, at least try.
When the room was quiet again and my stomach settled for a moment. I reached for the TUMS, popped two, then pitifully sipped the water, trying not to spill it as I drank it sideways. Afterwards, I laid still until the tablets of calcium carbonate did their job. The rolling settled, but my stomach still burned. I decided to try and get up, power through it, and pray it would end in a case of diarrhea over shoving my head in the toilet. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but I had a feeling that I had managed to poison myself. I was never cooking something for myself that was not precooked beforehand again!
I slowly climbed out of bed and shuffled over to the dresser to get a change of clothes. I pulled the old t-shirt I had slept in over my head, tossed it to the floor, then dug through my underwear drawer for a bra. As I put it on, I winced at the surprising amount of tenderness that radiated through my chest. I grunted through the process of putting the girl's in, wondering what the hell was making them so sore. I shuddered when I thought of what could possibly causing it. It only happened when it was about to be the worst time of the month, but I knew it could quite possibly be the exact opposite, and froze.
I looked up at my reflection in the dresser mirror in deep thought. I tried to think back to figure out how many days it had been since we had begun to try, but I was too exhausted to think about it. I'd pass it off until later.
I pulled my baby blue SAMCRO t-shirt on and a pair of jeans before shuffling off to the bathroom. My mouth tasted like Pine Sol from the TUMS, and it was making me feel worse, so I grabbed my toothbrush and applied toothpaste to it before leaning against the counter for support and brushing my teeth. Once the brush was in the back of my mouth, and the sharp peppermint flavor of the white, red, and blue paste hit my tongue, it hit me. I froze for a brief second before gagging, dropping my brush, and dropping myself over the toilet.
I vomited the toothpaste, then whatever else that had not been digested. I had been loud as I hit the lid with a clunk and wretched. However, Chibs must have been outside, because if he had heard, he would have been right behind me. I coughed up the last of it, then flushed the wok and pushed myself to my feet. I grabbed a hand towel to wash my face of residue and tears, then looked at myself in the mirror. I rarely threw up, which made my worry worsen. My breasts ached, I was puking, and like before, I was sleeping all day.
"Shit!" I hissed to myself.
Had Chibs' assumptions been correct?
Down the hall, I heard the door open and the familiar sounds of Chibs' boots on the hardwood and the clacking of Harley's claws. He had taken the dog out, and had not heard a thing.
Thinking quickly, I closed the bathroom door and locked it, then rifled through the cabinet below the sink. There was a drawer in the bottom corner I used to store larger hair tools. A blow-dryer, small flat iron, and a curling wand Venus had given me that I had yet to use. Beneath the piece of plastic and metal and clusterfuck of cords was a white and purple box I had purchased for such cases as this. I pulled it out of the drawer, sliding it closed and reading the label. My heart was pounding against my ribcage. I had anticipated being excited to take it, but I was so nervous, my hands were shaking.
I read the back of the box, studying the instructions before opening it and pulling the test out. The instructions were similar to the test Brooke had taken, and not far from the one I had used during my first scare with Zero. I remembered being so calm when Brooke and I had read the box, as well as waiting with her in the apartment, but then again, I was not the one taking the test. For some reason, I had had it in my mind that it was not a big deal. No big deal, my ass. This was huge!
After making sure I had the steps in my head, I went to the toilet and used the test. When finished, I was to wait ten minutes to ensure a clear result. Thankfully, we had invested in a cheap clock that Chibs had mounted on the back wall. I checked it, then piddled around the bathroom to burn time, not daring to leave. I didn't want Chibs to find it. I had planned since the beginning to make it a big surprise, but I had a feeling he would not be as surprised as I had hoped. He could pick these things up effortlessly. His inner doctor made shocking him a little more difficult.
Impatient, I checked the clock to see that only three minutes had passed. I turned on the shower to make it sound like I was busy, then opened the cabinet beneath the sink and picked up a bottle of toilet cleaner. I decided to clean the bowl just in case the test came out negative, and I really did have a virus. I did not want to pass it to Chibs. So, I cleaned the bowl and wiped it down with disinfectant before putting the products away, washing my hands, and checking the clock. One more minute to go.
I turned the shower off before sitting on the edge of the garden tub and crossing my legs, nervously twitched my foot and looking at my palms. The scars from plowing them in a pile of glass were almost gone, leaving behind nothing but callouses and the natural wrinkles. I almost wished I had a palm reader with me, predicting my future (if such a thing really did work). What would the lines say? Would the top line lead to eternal happiness or doom? Did the middle mean that times were changing? And what of the bottom? I turned my hands back over and rubbed the cold sweat on my jeans. The only thing predicting my future was the little plastic piss stick developing on the counter.
I looked up at the clock in time to see the second hand mark the minute. My heart jumped into my raw throat. There was no ring to alert me that the ten minutes were up. Nothing stopping me. No jump scares. It was just me, the dripping shower head, and the stick. I pushed myself onto weak legs and crossed the tile to the counter. The vanity light caused a glare on the read-out, and I could not see the result, forcing me to pick it up. I reached for it, willing my fingers to work properly. They trembled like I had the coffee shakes. I raised the test up. There was no white window to display a blue line or cross. I had purchased a digital test, making the results that much more real. It was just a matter of the word "Not."
I closed my eyes and opened them to see a gray screen, black letters staring back at me.
"Pregnant."
I let out a shallow breath.
"Holy fuck," I whispered.
I set the test down and stared at eight letter word for a long time. Finally, when it processed in my mind. I smiled. I had a reason for why I felt like shit, but even more than that, my future was sealed. Our efforts had paid off, and the SAMCRO family was about to get even bigger. My anxiety was replaced by overwhelming excitement.
"Yes!" I whispered.
A knock at the door scared the shit out of me, and I dropped the test on the counter.
"Callie, ya okay?" Chibs asked.
"Yeah. I'm just finishing up. I'll be out in a minute," I called back.
"'Kay. I'm gonna go have a smoke," he announced.
I stared at the white door as I heard him move back down the hall. I wanted to run out screaming and show him the test, but I kept myself in check. I needed to plan this out. I wanted to surprise him. Hopefully I could keep up high spirits and hide what I now knew was morning sickness. It was hard to hide stuff like that, but I wouldn't keep it to myself long. I couldn't. News like this could absolutely not wait. I would have to, though, and keep the big news a secret until it was time. However, I had to tell someone. Someone who would keep their mouth shut.
I gathered up my trash, stuffed it in the trash, then took the test and trash bag to throw out. I slipped down to the bedroom, hid the test in my underwear drawer, then walked into the kitchen. Harley was lapping water out of his bowl, and I gave his back a light scratch as I passed by to grab whatever kitchen trash there was to hide the evidence of the test further. Luckily, the trash needed to be taken out anyway, so I tossed the bathroom trash in with it and tied it up before placing a new bag in the can and slipping it back under the sink. Just above the sink was the window, where I could see the top of Chibs' head and a stream of cigarette smoke. I decided to wait until he was finished, and took the trash to the side entrance. When I returned, he was finished.
I walked through the sliding door to see him standing up and stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray. When I stepped out onto the porch, he looked up at me, surprised to see me up and around.
"Hey, darlin'," he said.
I pushed my hands into my pockets and tried to play like everything was fine, and that I had not just discovered what I now knew.
"How are ya feelin'?" he asked as he approached me.
I closed my eyes as he stepped up to me, cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead.
"Better," I replied.
Which was no lie. However, I wondered how long it would last before round two of many would come.
Chibs smiled warmly. My heart skipped. He seemed genuinely happy to hear that I was, for the moment, not sick. If he was that happy, I couldn't imagine how happy he would be when I unveiled to him that he was going to be a father.
"Good," he said.
I sighed and reached up to hug him. His reaction was delayed, as he had not expected me to hug him. Especially not so tightly. It took a beat before he reciprocated.
"I love you so much," I murmured into his collarbone.
He pulled back, cradling the back of my head and looking down at me with concern.
"I love ya, too, sweetheart," he replied, his voice pitched high and his tone questioning, as if I was doubting him.
He did not press, and lightly butted my forehead, resting it there and lacing his fingers with mine. I'm sure he thought I was just saying it because I was puny, and I was seeking positive attention. I let him think it. He was in for a big surprise.
Chibs had declared church that afternoon, which ended up being my first I had to skip. I half wished I had ridden with Chibs, and wished I had just never left the house. I thought riding might jostle my stomach, or possible give me motion sickness, but I found I was fine until a school bus passed me, the smell of diesel making me gag. I parked my bike, swallowing the urge to puke, and told Chibs I was going to lay down and sit church out. He asked if I was okay, and I just explained I felt weak, but didn't dare tell him I felt nauseous again. I told him to come get me if they needed a proxy from me, and that I would be resting in the apartment for a little bit.
My stomach settled not long after I laid down, the smell of leather and tobacco masking the residual diesel odor in my nose. When I felt better, I moved out of the apartment and walked to the kitchen for a bottle of water and a packet of crackers. I took the items to the bar, perched myself on the stool, and slowly nibbled. Church ended not long after I made it halfway through the pack, and the boys filed out of the chapel and split off to do their own thing. Chibs stepped up behind me, and I felt him grasp my shoulders and kiss the top of my head.
"Ya feelin' better, love?" he asked.
I nodded and smiled at him.
"Yeah, I'm good, baby. Thank-you," I replied.
He smiled and quickly kissed me before one of the guys called his attention. Tig walked up beside me and put an arm around my shoulders.
"Hey, baby girl."
I looked up at him and smiled.
"Hey, Pop," I replied as he kissed my forehead.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, "Chibby said you weren't feeling well."
I nodded.
"I'm okay, now," I said.
I glanced at the taps in deep thought. My mind flew back to the morning after my attack and my conversation with him. He had mentioned a few times that he had wanted to see Chibs and I start having kids and about wanting to baby-sit. He wanted to be right there when we finally ended up in the delivery room, and I knew I could trust him to keep his mouth shut.
"Can I talk to you? In private?" I asked.
Tig's eyebrows furrowed and he nodded.
"Sure, baby. Let's go into the office," he said.
He put a hand on my back and I stood from the barstool and walked with him to the office. He closed the door behind us and locked it.
"Something wrong, Callie?" he asked, concerned.
I leaned against the desk and shook my head.
"No, but you have to promise me that this does not leave this room. Swear to me, Tiggy," I said sternly.
Tig held a hand in the air.
"You have my word, darlin'. I swear on my life, this does not leave this room. Don't you trust me?" he asked.
"Tig, this is like, huge, okay? You can't tell anyone!" I replied.
"I won't tell anyone, Callie. I promise. What's going on?" he asked.
I bit my lip nervously.
"Um…," I had no idea how to word it, so I just blurted it out, "I'm pregnant."
Tig's bright blue eyes bugged out of his head.
"What?" he asked, voice deadpan before jumping an octave, "Are you serious?"
I smiled and nodded.
"That's why I've been sick," I replied.
Tig covered his mouth with his hand.
"Holy shit, baby girl! Wait a minute! Wait a minute. Come here!"
I approached him and he cupped my jaw.
"Is…this is good, right? Are we happy? This is what you want?" he asked, his tone taking on that "dad" tone.
I smiled and nodded.
"I haven't wanted anything more," I quietly replied.
Tig smiled and hugged me. I felt unprovoked tears rush to my eyes.
"I'm so happy for you, baby. Does Chibs know?" he asked.
We parted and I shook my head. A tear escaped and I quickly wiped it away. Tig chuckled.
"Oh, you're definitely knocked up. You don't cry that easily," he said.
I laughed and sniffed.
"Yeah, I know," I replied.
Tig ruffled my hair.
"When do you plan on telling him?" he asked.
I shrugged.
"I don't know, but I want to surprise him," I replied.
Tig nodded in agreement.
"You won't be able to keep it from him for long. He picks up on that shit so quickly. He now knows the signs for you. It won't be long," he said.
I nodded.
"Yeah. Kind of hard to cover up morning sickness."
Tig laughed and put an arm around my shoulders.
"We'll come up with a diabolical plan," he assured me.
I laughed at that.
We left the office and walked outside. Chibs was sitting at one of the picnic tables, looking up as Happy spoke to him, Rane standing beside him.
"I know, boss," Happy said, "We'll figure it out."
I climbed up on the bench and sat on the tabletop beside Chibs. He glanced up at me.
"Hey, darlin'," he said.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.
"Ya okay?" he asked softly.
I nodded and nuzzled my face in his hair, feeling the need to hold him and stay as close as possible.
"She's tired, but she's fine," Tig said.
Chibs held my hand.
"What happened, sis?" Rane asked.
I looked up and shrugged.
"Stomach bug," I replied.
Happy looked wary.
"It's not catching, is it?" he asked.
I smiled and shook my head.
"I don't think so, Hap," I replied.
He nodded. I looked down at Chibs.
"What'd I miss?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"The usual. We're going to call on Reno. See if there's anyway we could form a trap around the trap that's already been set," he replied.
I nodded. I was getting sick of this shit, and now that big changes were happening, I felt the need to just blaze in and get it over with.
"I have half a mind to just storm into Indian Hills and drop a bomb on them," I said bitterly.
"No!" Tig said sternly, making all of us raise our eyebrows at him.
His eyes darted around as he tried to come up with a quick excuse for his outburst.
"I mean, not yet," he said quickly.
I smiled and shook my head. I knew exactly what was on his mind. I didn't need to be fighting with my new condition, and Tig, being overly protective as he was, would lock me in the gun safe before letting me help protect my boys in a shoot-out.
"We'll think of somethin'," Chibs said.
The roar of motorcycles piqued our attention, and we looked up to see four purple choppers pull in and haphazardly park just outside the awning. The Freak Riders.
Milo was the first to dismount, ripping his helmet off. Chibs stood, holding my hand as I slipped down.
"Hey, what are you guys doin' here?" Chibs asked.
Jordie walked up to me and put an arm around my shoulders.
"We may have a problem," he said.
Our eyes darted from Jordie to Milo.
"What was your latest update on L?" Milo asked Chibs.
"Up in Indian Hills. Stayin' in a motel and workin' with Gaines," he replied.
"Trying to be sneaky and get the cops up there, too," Happy added.
Milo exhaled sharply.
"We got word a few hours ago that they were going to a safe house. Some place the charter owns," he replied.
"Somewhere up north," Jeffrey said.
Rane snapped his fingers.
"I know exactly where that is!" he said.
"Wait a minute," I said, "Why? To keep L safe?"
"Nah. Sounds like they're moving stuff. There's a bunker out there where they keep their weapons. Big, expensive shit," Rane said.
"Sounds like L must have paid them some big time cash," Chibs said.
Milo nodded.
"Cash. Cars. There's no telling," he said.
"But there's an old house out there on the property. They're probably putting Hanes up there until they can lure us in. Ten bucks says they'll get us up there and save Hanes' business for last," Rane said.
I snorted.
"Yeah. That business being me," I said bitterly.
"That's not gonna happen. We need to get some confirmation," Chibs said.
"Yeah, we need to make sure it's real," Happy agreed.
Chibs was silent as he thought for a moment before making up his mind.
"'Kay. Hap and Quinn, you're with me. Milo, I want you guys on patrol in Charming until I say otherwise," he said.
I shuddered and snapped my head up to him.
"What?" I exclaimed.
Chibs looked down at me.
"We're just gonna check it out and come back," he said.
"Hell no! You are not going up there!" I ordered.
I was never one to tell him what to do, but I put my foot down on this.
"Callie, we have to make sure it's real," he said.
"Then, I'm coming with you," I said stubbornly.
"No!" he and Tig said in unison.
Chibs glanced up at Tig as the VP moved behind me and grasped my shoulders.
"You're safest here, sweetheart," Tig said.
Chibs nodded in agreement.
"Tiggy's right. Ya stay here. We'll run up there, keep it low-key, check it out, then come right back," he said.
My shoulders dropped in defeat. I reached up and held his face between my hands, forcing him to keep his eyes on mine.
"You come back to me, Filip. You hear me?" I said strictly.
He smiled softly.
"I will," he said, taking my hands and kissing my knuckles, "I'll call ya when we're headin' back, okay?"
I nodded. Chibs leaned down and captured my mouth.
"Love you," he said.
I swallowed thickly. I didn't like this. Anything could happen to him. They could be ambushed. Shot at. Captured. Hell, something as simple as a motorcycle accident could kill one of them. They knew the risks. I knew the risks. Still, I was terrified of losing him. Being separated like this meant I could not protect him, and that scared me the most.
"Love you, too," I whispered.
He pulled me into a quick hug before he, Hap and Rane said goodbye, and Tig and I watched them jog to their bikes and leave the compound. I walked out from under the awning as they rumbled by, Chibs nodding to me and smiling. He was out of my sight in a flash, and I closed my eyes and turned away, my heart shattering at the thought of that being my last memory of him. I knew better than to think that way, but since this morning, everything had changed.
"Callie?" Tig asked softly.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"They're going to be fine, baby," he said.
I slowly turned back around, fighting the hormones that had turned my emotions so raw. Tig looked back towards the gate, then down at his shoes.
"He wouldn't have left if he knew," he said quietly.
I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Then, why'd you let him go?" I asked.
The look on Tig's face was heartbreaking. Bright blue eyes flickered up to me, full of remorse. My anger sparked without warning. I spun away from him, my eyes conveniently falling on a beer bottle. I grabbed it by the neck and sent it flying as hard as I could. It rocketed towards the cinderblock wall of the clubhouse and shattered into a million pieces, brown glass and leftover beer falling to the concrete.
Rat was just walking up to see what had become of the bottle.
"Whoa," he said slowly.
I turned to see Rat's eyes on the destruction. I sighed. I had to get out of here. I needed to worry were my brother's couldn't see.
I walked just inside the door of the clubhouse, grabbed my bag and keys, and exited.
"Take me home, Tiggy," I said, walking passed him.
"'Kay. I'm coming," he said.
I walked out to my bike and mounted it. I hated myself for not telling him about this morning, and knew that as soon as he walked through the front door, I was telling him.
Rat stared at the destroyed beer bottle in shock.
"Holy shit, bro," he said to Tig.
Tig looked down at the younger man.
"Who pissed her off?" Rat asked.
Tig frowned.
"She's not pissed, Rat. She's scared," he replied.
Rat's face fell. He glanced back at the bike to see his sister with her head hung, hands propped on the gas tank.
"I've seen what she can do when she's pissed. I don't want to know what she's capable of when she's scared," Tig said.
"Scared of what?" Rat asked, confused.
Tig stared at the boy before sighing heavily.
"The worst."
The drive had been a long one. Chibs had felt like they had achieved nothing. However, their trip had been far from a failure. It had been successful. Nearly everything had fallen into place—a rarity for SAMCRO. He, Happy and Quinn had felt proud of themselves, successfully finding Indian Hills' safe house, and even happier discovering that the charter was indeed hiding things out there. They had spotted two members wheeling things in and carrying others out. They were preparing for something, and when Chibs spotted a pickup truck full of ammunition boxes, he knew that they were preparing for war. Their trap was set. They were just waiting in anticipation for SAMCRO to fall in it. It worried Chibs that they were loading up with heavy artillery, fearing that they may be planning an attack on the clubhouse like the Irish had done, but they were prepared for it. To Quinn, it seemed as if the rogue charter were only prepping. They would have their evil plot ready within a few days. Chibs put Lodi, Reno, and their patrols on high alert, then, before they could get caught, slipped out of there.
They took a different route home, trying to avoid getting caught. Just an hour outside of Charming, with, thankfully, no tail, they stopped at a gas station to use the restroom and for Quinn to get a pack of smokes. Chibs decided to go ahead and purchase a pack as well, then stepped outside to have a smoke and wait for his brothers to get out of the restroom. He lit up a cigarette, then placed the Zippo in his pocket, exchanging it for his cell phone. He scrolled through his contacts list, clicking on his Old Lady's cell phone number, and called. She picked up on the first ring.
"Hello?" came Callie's voice, rushed and breathless.
"Hey, love. We're headin' home. 'Bout an hour outta Charmin'," he said.
He heard her breathe a sigh of relief.
"Thank God! Did everything go okay?" she asked.
"Yeah. We found the safe house. Quinn thinks we have time to plan, but not much. I'm gonna close TM until the threat is out of the way."
"That's probably a good idea," she replied.
"Aye. Reno's gonna patrol and give us the heads up when it's time. We're gonna storm in and take 'em all out, darlin'. This shit's about to be completely over with. No more," he said.
He could almost hear her smile.
"I'm so ready, baby," she replied.
Chibs took a drag from his cigarette and chuckled, smoke flying out into the air.
"Me, too. I'll see ya at home, Callie girl. I love you," he said.
"I love you, too, Filip. You and the boys ride safely," she said.
Chibs promised he would and they said their goodbyes. He then pocketed the phone, burned the cigarette to ash, and ground the butt into the sidewalk. He looked over his shoulder to see Quinn at the counter, and Happy just emerging from the hall. Chibs walked over to his Dyna and picked his helmet off of the tank.
Across the parking lot, the familiar sound of a Harley engine starting caused him to look up. At the pumps was a flashy, lime green Road Glide, its rider mounting the machine. Chibs squinted. The man looked familiar, dressed casually, but had familiar brown hair and a somewhat familiar face. When he looked up, he spotted Chibs, and his eyes widened. Chibs' muscles locked and his eyes narrowed angrily.
"Shit!" the man barked out, and threw the bike into first gear as fast as he could.
Chibs clipped his helmet on and started his Dyna without even thinking to get Quinn and Happy. He was out for blood. The bastard was out in the open without any protection, and even though he had promised to let Callie have him, he was going to blow Lancaster Hanes' brains all over the highway.
Happy was walking out of the store in time to see Chibs ripping out of the parking lot, another bike speeding away from him.
"Shit!" he barked out.
Happy tore off across the parking lot on foot, stopping at the end of the driveway and screaming for Chibs, but the President was long gone. If there was ever a time where he wanted to put his boot up Chibs' ass, it was now.
I finished putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, then shut the door and turned it on. I had spent the last few hours home alone, much to Tig's disapproval, keeping my hands busy and my mind off of worrying. I had obsessively looked at the front window every ten minutes, willing the black Dyna to come rolling in, bring its rider home safely, but all had been quiet. I assumed I should be thankful for that, as being home alone with huge threats hanging over the club's head made being alone dangerous. I had sent Tig home anyway. I didn't want him to see me pacing and panicking. However, that went away when Chibs finally called. One more hour, and he'd be back, and I could tell him the good news.
I washed my hands and dried them, before walking off aimlessly, keeping my ears open and glancing at the window on the front door for headlights. Living on a dead end road in the country outside of Charming with no close neighbors, we didn't have any traffic, so any lights that came through were for this house. Very rarely did we have someone pull in, only to turn around because they were lost. Hopefully that did not happen tonight, because any light would have me barreling to the door to see.
I continued down the hall with no direction, aimlessly searching for something to do when I stopped at the guest bedroom. I had not been in it in a long time, and pushed the brown door open and turned on the lights. The light came on to reveal the messy rolltop, mess in the office chair, and more mess on the futon. It had long since been used as a bedroom, but soon, the room would be completely different. As surreal as it still was, this would be the baby's room, and I suddenly found myself envisioning the transformation. The walls, which were white halfway down and green beneath the chair rail, would be some softer color, like blue or lavender. Possibly a pale yellow. The mess would be cleared out, replaced with nursery furniture. It didn't even seem right. This room still screamed Chibs, even if it was the junk room. A room he had once used as a place to get shit done, would now be his baby's room.
Down the hall, I heard Harley back and take off running. I jumped out of the room, and could faintly hear the sound of someone pulling in. I shot off into the living room. Harley was in one of the recliners, his black and tan hair standing on end and the most vicious look on his face. He growled and snapped his teeth. I could see headlights cross the windows, and knew it wasn't Chibs.
"Shit!" I hissed.
I ran to the coffee table, grabbed my gun, and cocked it as I crept up to the front door. Harley growled and trotted to the door. I looked through the peephole to see not a bike, but a white car pull in. The driver climbed out of the car and ran up to the porch. I felt my jaw drop when I recognized the driver.
"Althea?" I asked.
Harley snarled. He was ready to rip her throat out.
Althea banged impatiently on the door.
"Callie! Callie, open up!" she said frantically.
I put my gun back on safety and grabbed Harley by the collar before unlocking the door and opening it. When Harley saw her, he howled and tried to lurch for her.
"Harley, down!" I ordered, "Get back!"
"Callie, you have to come with me," Althea said, panic in her tone.
"What? Why?" I asked.
Her eyes told it all.
"It's Chibs."
