Chibs did not see the van. He could not see anything on the dark highway except the motorcycle speeding away from him. He only saw the headlights for a split second, and less time than that to react. It would have been impossible to save himself. Impossible to get out of the situation. He saw the lights, heard the engine, and before he could process what was happening, he was thrown across the highway. His body rolled off of the shoulder, crashing through sparse grass and tree roots. His helmet protected his head from any injury, and the thick leather protecting him for cuts. His jeans shielded his legs from everything except bruises, but no amount of denim could stand up to metal. Chibs rolled into a tree, and seconds later, the Dyna slid into him, pinning one of his legs between the hot engine and the bark. Chibs could do nothing but scream.
The van pulled onto the shoulder and the doors opened. The motorcycle he had been chasing pulled up behind it. He had time to react now. Time to fight the urge to vomit from the pain. Time to try and free himself from the 700 pound machine. As men filed out of the van and walked toward him, he had time to register that he had made a mistake, and falling for the trap like a fool.
He was yanked from between the motorcycle and the tree, feeling something sharp tear into his leg. He screamed and tried to fight against the arms that held him, but it was no use.

"Get offa me, ya bastards!" he yelled, trying to rip his arms out of their grip.

It was too dark and he was too disoriented to know where the elbow that slammed into his jaw came from. He snarled as he tried to get his footing, but his smashed leg caused him too much pain. The men pulled him to the shoulder and tossed him through the side door of the van, where another man was waiting with zip-ties. Chibs stumbled as he was pushed into the van, and felt someone shove him down, stomping on the center of his back and yanking his arms backwards.

"Should we get his legs?" someone asked.

"Nah," replied the man pulled the plastic too tight.

Chibs could feel the sharp edges irritating his skin, and he was sure they would cut the thin skin around his wrist bones, if they had not already.

"He's already lame," he finished.

Chibs heard the door close and was left to lay in the floor of the van. When he tried to wriggle himself into an upright position, his helmet was removed from his head and fingers gripped the back of his hair, forcing his head up.

"You so much as spit, I'll knock your goddamn teeth out, Telford. Do you understand me?" the man growled.

No one could see them, but Chibs' eyes were cold and hard. He knew that voice, and he knew that as soon as he got the chance, he would try his hand at dentistry on Indian Hills' President.
Chibs was not one for submitting and keeping his mouth shut, even in pain and his mind hazed in outrage, but he knew better than to bite in a cage. There was no escape route, and he could barely see anything. For now, he remained quiet, waiting for his moment to strike, and his mind escaping to his Old Lady. To his brothers. Happy and Quinn would know he was gone by now, and would soon be on their way, but would they make it in time? The last time he was kidnapped, taken hostage by a rogue club member, he thought that his head would be filled with bullets on the side of the highway. He had faced the bastard with bravery, even though he was visibly shaking. He thought about his brothers in that moment. Thought of Kerrianne. Everyone that passed through his mind were safe, and if he had to sacrifice himself to continue to keep them safe, then so be it.
Now, he thought about Callie. Every moment with her flashed by. He could hear her. Smell her. See her. He cherished every memory, and he felt sick to his stomach to know that waving at her at TM before taking off down the highway could be his very last. He cursed himself for acting before thinking. What would Callie think of him taking off to his death? If they killed him, L would go straight for her. The ex-VII member would find her, kill her, and all the blame would land on Chibs. He thought about the night she was taken, found bleeding on the floor in a Stockton pipe plant, and he thought about the heartbreak they experienced. They had been trying to fix everything that had been broken in their lives. Fix themselves. Fix each other. Callie had done so much to help him heal—physically and emotionally. Putting an icepack on the goose-egg that had formed after he had drunkenly slammed himself into a truck door, making him breakfast and forcing him in to things that in the end, were for his benefit. Helping him pick up the pieces after his divorce was final. Holding his hand through the deaths of his brothers. Making him feel like he deserved the world. Callie was his goddamn world, and they had been trying to build and expand their empire together, despite the bullshit neither of them wanted to deal with. Now it was too late. Too late to kiss her one last time. Too late to feel her arms around his torso as they rode together. Too late to wake up with her arms tightly around him, curbing his insomnia and creating a barrier from the nightmares. Too late to see if they would ever have the family they wanted to so badly. Too late to say "I love you."
Chibs was glad it was dark, for his kidnappers could not see the tears in his eyes. He wished he could apologize. He wished he could hug his Old Lady one more time. He'd give anything to spend just one more day with her. Unless he found an escape, then his time was up.
The van slowed to a stop, and the engine was shut off. Chibs blinked away the moisture in his eyes and tried to raise his head to look around. The doors opened, and someone grabbed the hands tied behind his back and yanked him to his feet. His winced as the pain in his injured leg radiated through his side. Two men outside the van, both he recognized as members of Indian Hills, grabbed him and yanked him out of the vehicle. The man who had zip-tied his now bleeding wrists hopped out behind him, shutting the door to the van and removing his ski mask, revealing pale skin and bright red hair. Gaines. Behind him, L approached, a pleased smirk on his face.

"What should we do with him?" Gaines asked.

L smiled. Chibs stared at him dead on, setting his jaw and staring at the man with pure hatred.

"Take his ass inside," he said.

The men yanked on the collar of Chibs' leather jacket and pulled him through the dirt and inside a building. Gaines opened the rolling metal door and they pulled Chibs inside. He had a chance to take in his surroundings. His boots slid on the smooth concrete beneath his feet as he tried to catch his footing, but his injured leg was making it useless. The building looked to be an old machine shop. Workbenches held deteriorating boxes and dust. Beaten toolboxes were stuffed with wrenches, screw drivers, pliers, and other bits and pieces carelessly tossed away, making it impossible to close the drawers. Chibs could just make out old lathes, cabinets full of miscellaneous items, generators, an air compressor, propane tanks, a welder, and hoses and extension cords strewn everywhere. In the center of the shop were neatly stacked wooden boxes, information about the contents stamped in black on the side. Chibs was all too familiar with the box. They held guns, and some may have even held ammunition. This was not just a machine shop. It was Indian Hills' gun storage. By the size of the boxes, Chibs could tell they were not dealing in rifles and Glocks. From SAMCRO's dealings with the Irish and the Galindo Cartel, they were in deep with someone who had fantastic connections to heavy artillery. He bitterly wondered which gun they would select that would be the most effective in blowing his brains out.
The men yanked Chibs around the stacks of weapons boxes and shoved him to his knees. He gritted his teeth as his leg throbbed. He knew the damage had to be bone deep. Gaines strolled around him and snorted humorlessly. L followed behind, eyes dead set upon him.

"Look at you now, Telford," Gaines began, "Act all big in front of Teller and threatening, yet here you are on your knees. Your Old Lady ain't here to defend you now. What do you gotta say about that?"

Chibs glared into Gaines' eyes, cold as frost.

"Mo thuaireapadh ort!" he growled, then spat at Gaines' feet.

The Gaelic words could have been tongues to the Indian Hills President, the harshness of the foreign sounds felt like a curse had been laid upon. Chibs refused to dignify the traitor with English. English or Gaelic, he wished them all to hell.
Enraged, Gaines snarled and struck Chibs in the gut with the toe of his boot. Chibs felt the air rush out of his lungs and he buckled forward, trying to breathe and find his voice to express his agony. L swooped in, forced Chibs jaw up, and the SAMCRO President gasped, unable to produce any other noise. L's grin was wicked.

"There's no way out of this one, you son of a bitch. You've made your bed. Killing my President? You killed one of my brothers," he said.

Chibs shakily swallowed as his breathing became more even.

"That filthy bastard deserved it. No one messes with my club, and no one lays their hands on my Old Lady!" he snarled.

L's hand tightened.

"And about her," he said.

Chibs hissed.

"As soon as we're done with you, I'm going to find her. She will not be getting away with what she's done. She's a traitor to my brothers, and I know she's the one who killed my Old Lady," he continued.

Chibs said nothing, keeping his jaw set and his eyes locked with L's.

"What do you think her punishment should be, Scotty? How about an eye for an eye? She kills my Old Lady, so I think I'll kill your Old Lady."

Chibs tried his hardest not to let his rage be expressed on his face.

"But don't worry. I'll make sure she goes out, shall we say, satisfied?"

Chibs kept his teeth clenched tight.

"Then I'll gut that little bitch!"

Chibs suddenly snapped, and whipped his head forward, delivering a brutal head-on crack to the bridge of L's nose. Not expecting it, he fell backwards, briefly releasing Chibs. Gaines stepped around L, shoved Chibs to the floor, and cracked his knuckles against his jaw. L scrambled up onto his hands and knees, shoved the Indian Hills President away, and began unleashing his fury through his fists to Chibs' body. With zip-tied wrists and a dead leg, there was nothing Chibs could do except flail and try to fight back with teeth. He was helpless.

"Enough! Enough! Get off of him, goddammit!" Gaines barked.

One of his men ripped L off of the bleeding and defenseless SAMCRO President. Gaines licked his lips and pointed in the direction of a work bench.

"One of you grab me that crow bar," he ordered.

One man obeyed and retrieved the tool, handing it over to his President. Gaines weighed it in his hands before his eyes flickered up to the man on the floor.

"Get him back on his knees," he ordered.

The man who removed L from Chibs pulled him back to his knees. Chibs looked up at the tool, the heavy iron that would be his end. Gaines picked at the sharp end of the bar, then in a flash swung it. The sharp end that was meant to pry nails tore a gash in Chibs' forehead, and his scream echoed throughout the machine shop. He felt warmth spill down into his eyebrow, his own blood dripping into his eye. Gaines smirked.

"This will work just fine," he said with a sickening smile.

Chibs watched in horror as Gaines raised the bar again, ready to show him how to properly crack a skull open.


"Callie?"

I took half a step backwards and reached for my throat as I felt it close up.

"Callie, did you hear me?" Althea asked.

My stomach rolled, and I spun on my heel and bolted. I crashed into the kitchen, hitting my head on the sink faucet as I vomited into it. I heard feet rush after me and felt hands on my shoulders, lifting my hair out of the line of fire.

"Jesus," she said.

I spat into the stainless steel basin and fumbled for the faucet. Althea helped and turned the water on, washing the puke down the drain and helping me get a drink and wash the taste of bile out of my mouth.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I cleared my throat and nodded.

"What happened to Chibs?" I asked.

I looked up at Althea as she grabbed a dish towel and wiped my face off. I was too exhausted to swat her hand away.

"I got a call that there was a motorcycle wreck on the highway. They said a man on a motorcycle was ran off the road and thrown into a van. They ran the plates, Callie. It was his Dyna. We got to go now!"

I felt my world stop.

"Goddammit! GODDAMMIT!" I screamed.

I bolted for the living room, grabbed my things and began to call Tig, Althea following after me.

"Can you take me to TM?" I asked her.

She nodded. I flew out the door and Tig finally answered.

"Hey, baby gi-"

"Everyone needs to get to TM now! Chibs got picked up," I said, cutting him off.

"Shit!" he hissed, "Okay. I'll round everyone up."

I didn't even bother replying as I hung up and climbed into the passenger side of the cruiser. Althea hopped in the other side, turned on her lights and siren, and ripped out of the driveway, slinging gravel.

"Why TM?" she asked.

"I need the fast bike. The club's meeting us there and you're going to lead the way, and so help me, if you fucking arrest us for speeding—"

Althea scoffed.

"For God sake, Callie! I'm trying to help you! Do you think I want to see him get killed, too?" she exclaimed.

I cut my eyes at her.

"I'm only going to arrest the jackasses who ran him off the road," she said, trying to calm herself.

I just looked away from her. Within seconds, my composure was out the window, and the tears welled up and fell. I didn't bother to do anything as I propped my elbow on the arm rest in the door and covered my eyes, choking back a sob. I knew it. I just knew something bad was going to happen. I wished I had gone with him. I wished he had never left. I wished Tig had stopped him. I couldn't lose him. I didn't want to know a world without him, and I didn't want him to never know his baby.

Why hadn't I just told him? Maybe if he knew…this was my fault.

I took in an ugly, shaky breath and held my fist to my mouth, keeping my eyes trained on the window as my vision blurred.

"Goddammit," I whispered.

Althea was silent for a moment, but her voice ended the silence like the breaking of glass.

"How far along are you?" she asked.

I froze instantly, my crying immediately ceasing. I slowly turned to her.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

She broke her focus from the speeding white lines on the road for a second to see my face.

"Come on, Callie. I know you and the club well enough to know that absolutely none of you would ever show any kind of real emotion in front of a cop. Especially not to me. The last thing I would expect you to do is break down and cry like this unless there was a reason."

"Oh, what? Like the threat of losing my Old Man isn't reason enough?" I snapped.

Althea cowered a little and said no more. I knew my condition would be obvious. She was right. Allow me to puke in front of you and then break down into a fit of tears. Typical pregnant woman. Who was I kidding? She had seen a glimpse of what happened after we lost our first baby. This was expected, and as a woman, and not to mention a cop, she probably knew immediately. I hated myself for being so transparent.

"It may be safe to assume a month," I said quietly.

Althea glanced over to me. I shot her a look.

"If you tell anyone, Althea, I swear to God—"

She held a hand up.

"You have my word," she said.

I watched her for a moment, studying her body language before I decided she was being honest. I then turned away and returned to looking out the window.

"Does Filip know?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head.

"No," I quietly replied.

Althea sighed.

"Well, he will," she said boldly.

I looked at her in surprise.

"He'll know his baby," she said confidently.

I couldn't help but smile a little.

Althea ripped into the compound and jerked the cruiser to a halt. Most of the club were already there, and I could see Tig's towering frame moving towards the car. I quickly jumped out of the car and shut the door. Tig rushed me.

"Hap and Quinn are already on the trail. We got the Mayans, Bastards, and the Riders already on the road," he said.

I nodded as I walked towards the garage.

"Good. Jarry's going to lead the way. Someone open the goddamn garage!" I ordered.

Chucky, who was just exiting the office, looked up at me with confusion written on his face and the keyring in his hands.

"Open it!" I demanded.

He nodded and ran back inside. Tig grabbed my shoulder.

"Cal, what are you doing?" he asked worriedly.

"Getting a bike I can fly on. What do you think?" I snapped.

I really didn't mean to be so hostile with him, but all I could think about was finding Chibs as quickly as possible, and every second meant life or death. None of it could be wasted.

"What?" Tig exclaimed, "Hell no!"

He pulled on my arm, stopping me as Chucky lifted the door, revealing the neglected Suzuki and it's For Sale sign. I ripped my arm away from him and glared at him, outraged that he was wasting time.

"You ride with Jarry. You shouldn't be fucking riding! What if you lay that bike down?" he hissed lowly.

"I am not fucking riding with her when I can be there before her!"

"But—"

"I am not letting my child grow up with their father!" I growled.

Tig's eyes widened. He reluctantly nodded.

"Be careful," he said.

I patted his chest and jogged into the garage.

"Stay behind me, Tiggy!" I called over my shoulder.

Chucky ripped the For Sale from the bike and handed me the keys and a helmet as I approached.

"It's the only one I could find," he said.

I put the keys in the ignition and nodded as I placed the headgear on my head.

"It'll work. Thank-you, Chucky," I replied.

He nodded and stepped back as I mounted the bike and started it.

"Bring him home," he said.

I nodded.

"I will. Stay near a phone," I replied.

Chucky nodded. I threw the bike in gear and signaled to Althea. She backed out of the compound and I flew across the lot behind her, Tig and my brothers following behind.
My thoughts were at a standstill as we roared out of Charming. My arms were shaking, my breath was hard to find, and my focus was in and out. I had just talked to him. He was coming home. I was going to tell him everything. It was amazing how it could all fly out the window in an instance. What had happened to him? Where had they taken him to? Was he okay? What were they going to do? Was he already gone? I did not even want to begin thinking about what I would do if we were too late.
Althea led us to a property where another cop car was parked at a gate. We were almost an hour outside of Charming, and nothing looked familiar. The only thing I recognized was the blonde officer that exited the other car as we killed our engine. I was shocked to see Officer Eglee step out and approach Althea's car as she rolled the window down. We readied our weapons and gathered around her.

"I've scoped the place out. There's a back entrance to the building. I spotted some motorcycles and a van up the driveway. Some of your guys are waiting on the back side of the property," she said.

"There's no traps down here?" Tig asked, "No cameras or trip wires?"

"If there were any, Lowman and Quinn took care of them. They're on the backside with the others," she replied.

Tig nodded, then turned to us.

"Okay, let's sneak up there and split up. Surround the place. Find a way to sneak in and kill anyone except Gaines and Hanes. I want those motherfuckers alive," he ordered darkly.

We nodded. Tig turned back to the cops.

"You guys got that?" he asked, pointing to them.

Althea and Eglee nodded.

"'Kay. Callie, you're with me," he said, "Let's go."

Gun safety off and cocked I jogged after my VP's long strides, jumping the gate and sneaking up the driveway as quietly as possible. My brothers split off on both sides of us, weapons ready as they scurried through the darkness. I stayed on Tig's heels as we slipped up to the front of the building. Inside, we could hear voices echo off of the sheet metal. The front door was open, so Tig and I pressed ourselves against the exterior wall, carefully hidden as we listened.

"Should we sneak in?" I whispered.

"Just wait," he replied.

I could hear voices that I could not distinguish, but the next noise was one I could not mistake. I heard a metallic ringing, followed by a heart-wrenching scream. Chibs.
I tried to lurch forward, but Tig was quick to grab me.

"Easy!" he hissed.

"But that was Chibs!" I hissed back.

Tig tightened his hand around my wrist and his eyes widened.

"I know, baby. Just follow behind me," he whispered.

I swallowed thickly and nodded. I couldn't imagine what they were doing to him, or what they had already done, but I was about to put bullets in their heads for laying their hands on my Old Man.
Tig and I ducked down and crept into the building, which from the looks of it, was a gun warehouse. Or at least, a quick makeshift storage building. The room was stacked high with gun boxes, and I wondered if this was their personal stock, or business. Either way, I wanted to torch it all with their bodies inside.

"Careful," Tig whispered as he stepped over a piece of scrap iron.

I tip-toed over it and followed him up to the gun boxes. We readied our guns, keeping our eyes peeled. Tig's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took a peek to read the message on the screen. I looked up at the tower of gun boxes, finding a wooden handle sitting on the ledge. I gently picked it up to reveal a ball peen hammer. I weighed it in my free hand and narrowed my eyes.

"They're in position," he whispered, replacing his cell phone and eyes flickering up to me, "We'll climb over. You jump. I'll scream. We'll get Chibby home safely."

I nodded. Tig gestured to the boxes. I pulled myself up the tower, Tig right behind me to catch me. We ascended the stacks of gun boxes until we were able to creep over the peak and peer down at the scene below. I could see what was left of Indian Hills, and I could see L standing beside that ginger bastard. When I craned my neck to see more, my heart stopped and my vision went red. Chibs was on his knees, clothes torn and filthy, and I could see trails of blood dripping down his palms.
Gaines, who was standing in front of Chibs, tapped some sort of tool against his palm.

"This will work just fine," he said, his smirk disgusting.

My heart jumped to a start as I saw him raise the tool. I launched myself off of the boxes and Tig let out what I could only describe as a battle cry. A furious wail that echoed with explosive repercussion from the sheet metal walls. Outside, a wall of deafening noise and lights lit up the dark machine shop. I flew down from on high, swinging the hammer. I hit Gaines upside the head, and before any of the Indian Hills guys could take a shot at me or Tig, my brothers appeared out of no where.
Gaines fell in a heap as I landed. L saw me, but before he could point his gun, I took a quick shot, watching blood explode from his wrist and his gun clatter to the concrete floor. He screamed and grasped his ruined wrist. Tig jumped down beside me and my brothers surrounded me, creating a wall between Indian Hills and Chibs. A crash from the other side of the warehouse made us jump, and everyone looked up to see Althea speed in, followed by our brothers in Reno, The Bastards, The Mayans, and The Riders. All with their guns raised at Indian Hills and Lancaster Hanes.

"Jesus," I heard Tig breathe out.

I looked up at him to see him looking down over his shoulder. I followed his eyes and my breath caught. Chibs was looking up at us, and it was like one of my nightmares had come true. He had blood dripping down his face from a gash on his forehead, and he was shaking from what was undoubtedly exhaustion and pain. My knees weakened, and for a brief moment, I thought I was going to pass out.

"Someone cut him lose, goddammit!" I barked.

Rat slipped out of the darkness and got down on his knees beside our Prez to free his wrists. I turned a deadly glare to the traitors in front of me and cocked my gun.

"You motherfuckers are so fucking dead," Happy growled.

"Should we call it, brother?" Quinn asked.

Tig's look was cold and ruthless.

"All in favor of Sons of Anarchy: Indian Hills charter meeting Mr. Mayhem?" he proposed.

Everyone, including our sister clubs and even Althea, who had stepped out of her car with her gun raised, voted unanimously.

"Leave these two alive," I said, pointing to L with my gun and Gaines' crumpled form with the hammer.

Tig nodded.

"Cut 'em," he said.

The guns went off, and I watched as Indian Hills fell to extinction, with their President doubled over helpless, and my former brother backing away fearfully.

"Take care of that little punk, baby girl," Tig said.

I stepped forward, gun pointed at L as he backed into a body. He looked down at the slain traitor and froze.

"Look at me, L," I said.

He looked up at me, wincing through the pain of a blown wrist.

"Callie, I—"

I narrowed my eyes.

"I once called you my brother without question. You killed my best friend—my fiancé. You poisoned him, then dared look me in the eye with sympathy. Then you killed RJ. Watched as Tino dropped my brother in the middle of the street. I thought those were your biggest mistakes until this. One thing you don't do, L, is touch my Old Man. That's the biggest mistake you have ever made in your life. Did you really think you could get between me and my family? Beating the shit out of me was nothing. Laying your hands on my husband? That's unforgivable. You deserve to die by the hand of the VII."

"And what, Callie? You still consider yourself a part of us? You never bore the ink!" L snarled.

I smiled.

"I know. I'm going to deal you one worse."

L's eyes widened.

"You'll die by the hand of a Son," I said lowly.

I saw flash of fear cross his eyes before I fired. The bullet split the bridge of his nose open, and Lancaster Hanes fell to the floor, dead. I took a deep breath as I lowered my gun. Behind me, I heard shuffling. I turned around to see Rat helping Chibs up, and my face fell when I saw his jeans drenched, a dripping gash curving down his right leg. I cringed and walked up to him.

"Brother," Tig said, rushing to his side to steady him.

I ran up to him as he pointed to the sniveling man on the floor.

"Get tha' bastard up," he ordered.

T.O. and Happy ran to Gaines and yanked his bleeding body out of the floor. I walked up to Chibs and touched his arm. He looked down at me and gave me a small, reassuring smile. I just nodded. T.O. and Hap pushed Gaines against the towers of gun boxes. Chibs limped out of Rat and Tig's grasp, the pain caused by walking unbearable. Yet, he pushed himself forward. It was like watching a great giant fall, and I felt tears prick my eyes.

"Someone give me a knife," he said.

Tig removed his dagger from its holster—the same one I had threatened Gaines with on our first meeting. He handed it to Chibs, and Chibs tightly grasped the weapon as he pushed Gaines against the wood. I could not see my Old Man's face, but the look of remorse in Gaines' eyes told it all.

"Guess you win, huh, Telford?" he asked.

Chibs stood proudly.

"Aye," he said.

Then, he plunged the knife into the Indian Hills Presidents' neck. Blood poured down his front, and I had to look away. Rat put an arm around my shoulders and turned me away. I could hear the traitor's life source spilling onto the concrete, then the traitor's body fall into with a muffled splat.

"Get him to the car," Tig ordered.

We turned to see Happy and Quinn, help Chibs to the cruiser.

"Let's torch this goddamn hellhole," Tig went on.

I broke away from Rat and followed my brothers as they held Chibs lean against the hood of the car. I pushed through them, rushing Chibs and yanking him into a hug, instantly bursting into tears.

"Oh my fucking God!" I cried, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Chibs wound weak arms around me.

"Jesus, Callie girl. I thought I'd never see you again! Shit! I'm sorry, love," he said.

I pulled back and cupped his cheeks, wiping the blood from his cheek with my sleeve.

"What the hell happened? How did they catch you?" I asked frantically.

He closed his eyes and looked down in shame.

"I fell for a trap. Ran after Hanes on my own," he replied quietly.

I bit my lip and shook my head. I could have kicked his ass.

"You stubborn old goat. Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed, not sure whether I should slap or shove him, and not wanting to do either.

"But it's over now," he said, perking up only slightly.

I smiled and stroked his cheeks.

"Yeah," I agreed, "It's over, baby. We're going to take you home. Back to normal."

He smiled at that.

"I love you, Callie," he whispered.

I blinked back tears. I never thought I would hear that from him again.

"I love you, too, Filip," I replied.

He leaned down and kissed me deeply—or as deep as he could with what little strength he had left. When we broke away to breathe, I embraced him with no intentions of letting go.
To my left, I caught a glimpse of Álvarez out of the corner of my eye, looking concerned.

"How's his wounds?" he asked.

I parted from Chibs and he, too tired to protest, let me lift his hair and examine the gash.

"He could use stitches," I replied, "Filip, how's your leg? Is it broken?"

He shook his head.

"Just shredded," he replied quietly.

Althea approached and knelt down and gently examined Chibs' leg.

"He needs to get to an E.R., pronto. This will get infected and cause more damage," she said.

"No hospitals," Tig said.

"Aye," Chibs agreed, leaning his head against my collarbone and his weight on me, "No health insurance, anyway."

I rolled my eyes. We desperately needed to sort that out. Later, though.

"Well, let's take you back to TM. Marcus, do you guys have a medic?" I asked.

The Mayan President nodded.

"Yeah," he replied, then pointed to Chibs, "As of recent years, him."

I looked down at Chibs and groaned.

"Jesus Christ!" I breathed out.

"Hey," I heard someone speak up.

I looked up to see Sticky approach, dialing a number on his cell phone.

"We gotta doc, sweetheart. We'll hook ya up," he said.

I nodded.

"'Kay. Have him meet us at TM," I said.

"No!" Chibs argued, raising his head.

"Meet us at home," he said.

I raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"The house? You sure?" I asked.

Chibs smiled.

"I wanna go home," he replied.

I smiled and laid his head back down on my shoulder.

"We'll go home, baby," I assured him, "Sticky, have the doc come out to our place. Someone needs to go get his Dyna. Take it, or whatever is left to TM. Filip, you ride with Althea."

Chibs' back went rigid and his eyes wide.

"What?" he exclaimed.

"You need to get off of that leg," Althea said.

I nodded in agreement. Chibs looked disappointed. I held him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm right here," I said.

He gave in and smiled softly. I took his arm and looked up at Althea.

"Help me get him into the front," I said.

She nodded and with a little extra guidance from Tig, we got Chibs into the passenger seat without much pain or fuss. I buckled him in kissed his bloodied cheek.

"You okay?" I asked.

He nodded tiredly.

"Right behind ya, lovely," he said, cracking a crooked smile.

I smiled and kissed him.

"We'll be home in a minute," I assured him.

He nodded and I gently shut the door. Althea put her hands on her hips.

"Eglee is taking care of any cover up, so you guys just do what you need to do," she said.

I nodded and looked down at Chibs, who was trying to relax.

"I told you," she said quietly.

I looked up at her, knowing what she was meaning, and smiled.

"Thank-you," I whispered, "I owe you."

She smiled and shook her head.

"Seeing you guys in Charming every once in a while with the baby will be enough for me," she replied.

I smiled.

"Let's head back to Charming. Lead the way?" she asked.

I nodded. She climbed into the car, and Tig and I walked down to the front gate to get our bikes, and led a procession back into Charming.


I sat in the bed beside Chibs, holding his hand through every step of The Grim Bastards' trusted doctor stitching him up. The forehead was not a big deal, but his leg…it was down to the bone. I was surprised I did not puke when I saw the bone. Somehow, my gag reflex had been disengaged. I was more worried about the leg. It was most definitely savable, but it would always be the weaker one, and he would have to relearn how to walk, run, and ride. It would not take him long, but he would forever walk with a slight limp unless he healed progressively faster than expected. I had a feeling he would show that doctor he could recover fully. It would be like nothing ever happened. He would not let himself cripple. That wasn't my Old Man.

"It may take a month or two before he's in full swing again. If he recovers completely, that is," the doctor said as he packed up his gear.

I looked down and brushed the hair from Chibs' forehead. Give him two weeks…

Tig decided to stay the night so he could help me maneuver Chibs when we needed to. I stayed up most of the night while he rested.

"How are you feeling, sweet boy?" I asked when we were finally alone.

Tired brown eyes flickered up to me, his eyelids hanging heavily and the whites of his eyes pink. It had taken the aid of a joint to get through patching him up, but he powered through it. I would never be able to describe how utterly proud I was of him.

"Like I flew like a kite for an hour. Stoned off my ass," he said bitterly, but then chuckled.

I smiled and stroked the undamaged area of his forehead. He blinked slowly and locked focus with me.

"I'm so proud of ya, sweetheart," he whispered.

I smiled.

"Droppin' Hanes like ya did? Hot!"

I laughed. He might have still been a little stoned.

"I can't believe it's finally over," I said.

Chibs smiled lovingly, then draped an arm over my stomach. I felt butterflies lift as he touched my midsection, oblivious to the secret inside. I wanted to tell him, but I decided to go ahead and wait until he was not in tremendous pain or under the influence of pot.

"Believe it, love. Soon, we'll be able to put it all behind us, and work on our future again," he said.

I smiled as he lightly stroked my stomach with his thumb.

Little did he know, I was already one step ahead of him.