Chapter Forty-Nine: Jealousy

It was hard to tell whether Tig was more mad with me or himself. His temper had come back under control, luckily, so with Gemma's help I'd managed to persuade him to stay put and not go screaming back to Charming with a vendetta against the unknown. Although he was still being quite affectionate, he was slightly colder, more distant. I felt safe in the knowledge he'd get over it- but I had other, more immediate worries. The caretaker, Amelia, had obviously picked up on the tension between Tig and I- or maybe she'd overheard some of our argument. Either way, every time I turned around she seemed to be there, hovering around Tig.

My second day in the house, and the third time she found an excuse to squeeze by him in the doorway, I knew I couldn't hold it in anymore. Supposedly she was doing something for Nate, but I couldn't imagine why so many trips in and out of the kitchen were required. Gemma was in the lounge with her father and as Amelia went back to join them, I turned to Tig. He saw me glaring.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"You know what," I snapped, annoyed. I turned back to the counter, where I'd been preparing dinner for all of us for later on. Tig may be mad at me for keeping the stalker a secret but it wasn't as if we'd broken up over it. I mean, shit, who the hell did she think she was?

"I really don't, babe," He sighed, sounding tired. He made to leave the room but I followed him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back in. He looked around at me, his blue eyes full of surprise at the fierceness I'd displayed. I had no idea where it'd come from either.

"It's her," I said through gritted teeth, "Wanting to get all close and personal with you all the time."

"Who?" I could have throttled him- was he seriously playing dumb on purpose?

"Gemma," I replied sarcastically. I finally saw it dawn on his face.

"Oh, the caretaker," Tig realised. I stamped my foot angrily and he raised his eyebrows at me. "Babe, I think the pregnancy hormones might be going to your head," He said, looking quite amused.

"No they are fucking not. She could have walked round the other way once she realised you were there the first time." I indicated the fact the kitchen was also interjoined with the lounge, so there was no need for her to keep passing him in the door and walking down the hallway.

"I'm sure she thought I'd just move," Tig shrugged, actually looking a little worried now.

"Well, why didn't you move?" I narrowed my eyes. God, you go years surrounded by whores and croweaters and believing that makes you immune to jealousy- but then all the jealousy bursts it's banks at once so even when you know you're overreacting you can't help yourself.

"The same reason you just said- I thought she'd go round," Tig defended. I pursed my lips and let go of his arm. Maybe I was just being stupid. Deciding not to pursue the matter anymore, I put the chicken in the oven to cook and headed through to the lounge. Gemma's father was having a better time of it than he had the previous day, though he still wasn't quite so sharp as he might be. When I sat down on the couch beside Gemma, he looked over at me from the armchair he was sat in in some surprise.

"Gemma, when did you get here?" He asked me. I raised my eyebrows, glancing at my step-mother.

"Uh..."

"Daddy, it's me. I'm Gemma," She said soothingly, though I could hear the tone of hurt in her voice; I instantly felt bad. I'd obviously confused him by coming in when I did. Nate's eyes moved from me to her and back again, his expression befuddled.

"You're my Gemma?" He checked again. She nodded. "Who are you then?" He questioned blankly. I'd had that question four times already today; more guilt rose up inside me when I felt myself becoming frustrated. It wasn't his fault, after all.

"That's Eliza," Amelia told him as she measured out his medication ready to take, "Gemma's step-daughter." His face was completely blank at this (to him) new information.

"I didn't know John had a daughter," He repeated the same thing he'd said at breakfast the day before. I glanced at Gemma; she looked distressed.

"Eliza is Clay's daughter," She repeated, a note in her voice informing me how close to tears she was. I gripped her hand on the couch between us. "I'm with Clay now, remember?"

"What happened to John? Did he leave you? Your mother always said he was no good," Nate was saying, "Maybe you should come here, bring the boys. Your mother would like that." I opened my mouth, wanting to help out and explain that John Teller was dead- not to mention Nate's wife, Rose. But Gemma shook her head at me and I closed my mouth again. Apparently, Nate's better morning had become a shitty afternoon. I sighed; it was times like these I remembered that this wasn't really a nice getaway from Charming for Tig and I. Gemma was on the run from the cops. This was a refuge.


Dinner was a silent affair. Nate seemed to have shrunk back into himself for now, and Gemma looked quite disturbed still. Tig at first glance seemed oblivious to the atmosphere, but I knew him better; his blue eyes were ever-watchful, scanning the room every few minutes. I was watchful too, but mainly of Amelia. She was pretty; I envied her shiny dark hair and bright smile. I watched her learn across Tig to grab the salt rather than ask somebody to pass it down, though, which set my teeth on edge. He didn't even look up from his plate at that point, but I had no doubt that things would be different if he wasn't with me. Or maybe, a nasty voice in the back of my head ventured, even if I was just not here. I looked at Gemma; she'd cut his dick off in that case. Tig insisted she'd already tried to do that to a guy since she'd been on the run. I couldn't help but grin at the memory of him retelling that story ("If I wanted him dickless it'd be lying on the ground next to him") but then Amelia spilt wine on his pants and suddenly, nothing was funny anymore.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," She said, reaching for a napkin. Tig blinked down at the dark red stain spreading across his faded jeans. Amelia leaned over as if to dab it off. Was this a shit movie or something?

"No, that's okay," I heard myself burst out. The other four all stared at me, "He can clean that himself." I added pointedly. Gemma gave me a knowing look across the table- she was onto the caretaker as well. Tig took the napkin, looking nonplussed. Men really were stupid sometimes. Amelia shrugged and righted the wine glass. But when Tig had looked away, she caught my eye and smirked. I dropped my knife and fork to my plate. What a fucking bitch.

"What-?" Tig started to ask.

"I've just remembered something," I said, striding out of the room before I kicked some Gautemalan ass.

I went out onto the porch alone. Nate had no neighbours, but we weren't far from the nearest town. I leant against the wooden fencing and gazed out at the surroundings of the house. Oregon was different from California. It was greener, the climate more fresh. I really needed to get a grip, I told myself sternly. Even when he was pissed Tig couldn't keep his hands off me; he definitely wasn't going to fuck the caregiver, no matter how much she thought she could get him to. I guessed I understood her, a little- she was stuck out here with nobody but an old man she had to look after. Tig was probably the first attractive man she'd seen in ages. Still, she knew I was with him. She also knew, by now, that I was pregnant. But I knew I could trust Tig. He hadn't even seemed fully aware of what she was doing and when I'd pointed it out, he'd simply appeared a little uncomfortable.

"Pull yourself together," I muttered to myself. I was about to head inside, but my phone rang. Taking it out, I was surprised to see it was Tara calling. I answered: "Hello?"

"Hi," She greeted me, "Judging by Jax cussing Tig out for the past couple of days, you made it safe to Oregon."

"Yeah," I laughed, "Are they really mad?"

"They were at first, but they got over it. Have other things on their mind." That burst my little Oregon bubble- I'd barely given the rest of it a thought.

"Shit," I said, "Have they found out anything about Abel?" I made sure to say the last part quietly, for fear that Gemma would hear. Tig and I were still under strict oath not to mention the kidnapping to her.

"I don't know. Said something about digging- asking Bobby's ex wife for help."

"Precious?" I recalled Bobby's ex-wife; bottle blonde and quite insane. Of course, the insane part was mostly based off of Bobby's opinion on her. The other part was based on the fact she called herself Precious.

"Yeah, Jax said something about her, I don't know." There was an edge to Tara's voice and I realised then that she'd called for some other reason.

"Is everything all right there, Tara?" I questioned. I heard the doctor hesitate.

"I've been given a few personal days off by the hospital. I might take a six month leave of absence- you know, just while everything here figures out. Jax isn't happy," Tara sighed, "I was wondering if you think I could come up there with you guys. Get away for a couple of days?" Of course, I had no personal objections to this- maybe Tara could help me distract that man-stealing gash. I knew Gemma would like to see her too, but I was a little worried about questions about Abel coming up.

"I mean, of course," I told her, "There's plenty of room here- but you'll have to watch what you say to Gemma. She doesn't know everything."

"I know," Tara agreed, "Okay, I'll talk to Jax when he gets back and then I'll see you guys tomorrow morning. Thanks, Eliza."

"Of course," I returned, hearing the emotion in her voice and feeling a little taken aback by it, "Hey, Tara- would you mind bringing me a pair of elasticated pants? The jeans you sent- I can't get the zipper up anymore," I admitted. She laughed.

"Sure."


When I returned inside, Tig was doing the dishes and Amelia was drying them and putting them away- of course. He looked questioningly at me as I re-entered the room.

"Tara," I dismissed, waving the cell phone. He nodded.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I lied, not feeling free to say much about anything in front of the caregiver. "Where's Gemma?"

"Said she was gonna take a bath," Tig shrugged.

"Nate?"

"He takes a nap after his main meal," Amelia interjected, her tone icy when it was directed at me. I leant against the counter and said nothing in return. She stood with a stack of plates in her hands, looking helplessly up at the top shelf where they 'apparently' went. Either way, she could've reached if she stood on her tiptoes. "Hey, would you mind-?" She turned her fake damsel in distress pout on for Tig.

"Sure," He took the plates and put them up there.

"And could you pass those bowls?" He obliged, handing them to her from the draining board. She brushed his hand as she took them and then reached across him to put them away.

"I can't imagine what you did before Tig got here," I said, though again it was like I was hearing myself speak rather than actually saying the words, "You don't seem to be able to do much for yourself." Amelia looked at me, her dark eyes going from my head to my feet like those bitchy girls in school. I stood up a little straighter in response.

"Oh I get by fine without Tig," She responded coldly.

"Yeah, I know." We stared each other down for a minute. Tig broke the tension by loudly dropping the cutlery into it's drawer, making the metal clang together. Amelia twitched at the unpleasant sound.

"Well, I gotta go..." She said vaguely, before leaving the room. I folded my arms, thoroughly pissed off. Tig waited a moment, wiping his hands dry on the dish cloth, until Amelia was out of earshot.

"That was kinda rude, Kitten," He told me, though he sounded kind of amused all the same. I looked stonily across at him.

"Don't know what you're talking about," I insisted childishly. Tig frowned briefly but then it vanished, replaced by a smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Hold on, doll. Are you jealous?" Shit. He was onto me. He prowled slowly across the kitchen floor towards me, twisting the forgotten dish towel between his hands. "You are," He said, sounding amazed, "You're jealous."

"No I'm not," I lied lamely, knowing it was futile.

"It bothers you that she's interested," Tig concluded, his grin getting wider. Oh god, the asshole was loving it.

"No," I repeated.

"Hey," He was standing very close to me now, "I don't mind if you're jealous, babe." I suddenly felt incredibly small. His hands on the dishcloth, ring-clad as they are, looked even larger than usual. I peered up at him. His gaze was very focused on me, which made the blue of his eyes that much more dazzling.

"No?" I breathed.

"Are you kidding? Having you know that another woman wants me and the fact it's driving you crazy? It's fuckin' sexy, doll," He told me in a low purr. He looped the dish cloth around my neck, holding either end of it in his hands. He was standing so close, yet not quite touching me- I was suddenly all too aware of his body heat. "Know what I think?"

"What?" I whispered. He used the dish cloth to pull me closer, leaning down to murmur in my ear:

"Think you need to show that bitch who I belong to." Well if that didn't make me go weak at the knees… I nodded, unable to speak. He smirked, chucking the dishcloth away, and lifted me by the hips to perch me on the edge of the counter. He stepped between my knees, his eyes level with mine. His hands grazed my thighs, pushing up under the knee-length summer dress Tara had sent me down. Unable to take any kind of teasing, I kissed him, wrapping my legs around him as I did so, pulling him closer. He growled against my lips before releasing them, his hands moving upward to cup my breasts. I whimpered.

"I'll never touch her like this..." He told me, getting into the act, "Or like this..." His right hand went up my dress again, and he traced my slit through my panties. "Holy shit, you're wet." Tig chuckled darkly, pushing the dress up. I lifted my ass for a second so he could get it around my hips. He then pushed my legs further apart and leant down, pressing his nose against my crotch, breathing. "Fuck, doll." He withdrew from between my legs. I stroked his black curls and he smiled, kissing me, before yanking my panties off with one fluid motion. I gasped as my ass once again hit the cool surface of the kitchen counter, now bare.

Without waiting for my permission, Tig dived in, locking his lips around my clit and sucking hard. I gasped loudly, throwing my hands out behind me so I could remain upright. He opened his mouth wider and moved his tongue, flat, from the bottom to the top, pointing it at the last moment so that it pressed on my clit again. Jesus fucking Christ.
"You taste so good, Kitten," He told me, nipping the skin of my left inner thigh before beginning in earnest, licking and sucking divinely with a skill only he had. My head lulled back and I let out a moan, much louder than advised. Tig didn't pause, though I managed to stifle the next sound to leave my mouth, barely. Tig moved his hand up, pushing his fingers inside of me. I rolled my hips involuntarily, but then Tig froze suddenly. I heard it too. Slowly, he withdrew from between my legs and looked up at me- his lips were glistening wet.

"Maybe we should, uh, move this upstairs?" He suggested. I was about to agree and hop off the counter when over his shoulder, at the slightly raised height I was, I saw her. Amelia was stood frozen in the hallway, eyes wide, having frozen on the spot when the floorboard which creaked and gave her away alerted Tig.

"No," I said, surprising even myself, "It was nothing." Tig looked at me, shocked.

"You wanna… here?" An expression crossed his face which was reminiscent of all his birthdays coming at once. He grinned up at me and I saw his free hand palm his engorged crotch. I reached forward and stroked his hair again, and he got the hint. Hitching my legs upwards so that they were resting on his shoulders, he bowed between my legs again, unaware that Amelia the bitch caretaker was watching. I locked eyes with her, feeling a supreme rush of triumphant joy, and she turned and walked away, looking pissed off. Sighing once she was out of sight, I closed my eyes and let Tig carry on. I nudged him and he straightened up, making short work of his pants, freeing his cock.

He curled his hands under my ass and tugged me forward to the edge of the counter, not caring that my bare skin squeaked against it, and pushed inside of me. I was wonderfully sore from all the sex we'd already been having, but it was easy this time thanks to his ministrations. He moaned and buried his face in the neck as he began to fuck me with animalistic abandon. I forgot where I was- I was clutching the tops of his arms, my fingernails digging in, the fact that Amelia had seen us strangely on turning me on more. I could tell we were both close, Tig swelling inside me, when it happened.

I heard the bang, and I felt the impact as Tig's body lurched towards me unnaturally.

"FUCK!" He bellowed, nearly dropping me. I caught myself just in time as I slipped off the counter, landing on my feet, glad that the dress I was wearing dropped immediately. As Tig fell against the counter, holding himself up with one hand, I saw the blood spreading through the back of his shirt, just below the shoulder blade. In the doorway, Nate stood, clutching a rifle and wearing a horrified expression.

"How could you do this to me, Rose?" He yelled, anguished, at me. I stared blankly, taking a minute to piece everything together, still trying to adjust. One minute I was having sex and the next minute my boyfriend was being shot. What the fuck?

"Wha -what happened?" Both Gemma and Amelia came running into the room. The caretaker looked too shocked to even still be pissed off with me for my claiming my man right to her face.

"Jesus Christ, Dad, what the hell are you doing?" Gemma cried, looking at the gun in his hands.

"He shot me, the crazy prick!" Tig yelled.

"He thought I was Rose," I realised. Nate looked as bemused as ever.

"Holy shit, Dad," Gemma said in a more hushed voice. Amelia and I both approached Tig, feud temporarily by the wayside, to examine his bullet wound.

"No..." There was a clatter as Nate dropped the rifle. He was paling as he looked on the scene; something in his eyes had changed- he'd come back to himself again. "What did I do?" The situation probably would've been funny if it wasn't so ridiculous. I could see the slug in Tig's back.

"Thank fuck Tara's coming tomorrow," I said.

"We're gonna have to pull the slug out now, hon," Gemma said, seeming unsurprised that Tara was coming down- she must've spoken to her.

"Fuck," Tig was still cursing as he squirmed from the pain. I looked at Amelia seriously.

"Help him," I said, nodding towards a traumatised-looking Nate. She inclined her head in turn and went over to the elderly man, leading him out of the room. It looked like Gemma and I had some emergency first aid to apply.


A/N: So a little dose of smut, a huge dose of jealousy from Eliza- I hope you enjoyed it and found it funny! Hopefully the injection of humour and absurdity will help ease his anger at her hiding the stalker from him! Next chapter, Tara comes up and hilarity of a very different nature ensues... if you can call it that :)