Chapter 6

Okay this one is the first from Chibs perspective, however there is a little bit of Tigs as well :) necessary for what's going on. But everything will come out in the wash soon enough :P

As always, I own nothing :)

Three weeks later

Chibs poured another shot of what could only be described as some kind of varnish remover. The attempt at burying himself in booze, pussy and weed hadn't exactly worked the way it had in years past. It used to make him feel less alone, sexy and powerful. Now it just made him feel sad and confused and the worst part was it made him feel each one of his years, and dirty at that.

He was hoping the blond crow eater in his bed would be gone by the time he got back. Despite his years of watching his brothers do it, he'd never quite mastered the art of kicking them out. And depending on which man inside himself he was chasing to be, he didn't know if that made him feel proud or pathetic.

He felt an itching under his skin that he hadn't felt in years, since Fiona if he was honest with himself.

His palm rubbed across his chest. Feeling the envelopes tucked inside the leather, he'd already stamped return to sender. Of course she'd written to him. Despite their access to technology, she'd handwritten letters addressed to the apartment he barely stayed at. He wasn't away fighting World War II for fucks sake. She could have called. She wouldn't though and he knew that. She may have been the one to leave, but he was the one to walk away first. Both that morning after and the night before she got on the plane. That night he thought he'd finally stacked enough courage to tell her that he might really need her. In his life and in his bed, giving him enough of a resting place that he could start making changes that might finally grant him the title of a man worthy of such presence. But he'd heard her words and more tellingly, he'd watched her eyes. And his fiery dancing fury, with poison in her veins and electricity in her heart, had seemed duller, not completely gone but diluted. To a light enough colour that in hindsight made his heart see and ache for Tara, because he remembered seeing that same reaction take place in her eyes for years before the end. So classically. He said nothing.

The night before she got on the plane

Tig knew were he'd been that night. There wasn't much he could hide from the mans piercing blue eyes. And since they didn't have much left but each other, except enough ash of the past around that occasionally covered both their lungs and made them choke and grab to something solid. Usually each other.

And whilst Tig had the same reservations about the woman that the rest of the club did, something had changed in the man of late too. A strange realisation that whilst they are exactly who they are, he seemed more aware of the idea that when you clung too much to the costume you draped your life in, unwilling to change, you'd lose in the end. He assumed it was years of Tig sewing together tears in his life, only for a new one to rip open, that made him accept that no matter who you are, sometimes this life you're wearing, will never really fit. And if you find something that eases the ripping, softer hands that help the sewing, you should hold onto it. Maybe it was the younger mans arrogance that told him they all deserved exactly what they wanted. Whatever it was, it cracked his brothers ribs open and tickled his heart just enough for it to ache for his President when he saw he wasn't getting the one person who did all these things for him and to him. Tigger was an enigma to put it mildly, throw a dart between arrogant and unhinged and you'd find Alexander Trager. And yet he had a weary soul that craved for the equal happiness for his brother. And when he saw Chibs walk in that night. He knew he hadn't gotten it. He'd heard the calls Chibs had been making that afternoon, a new sheriff heading to town. And it didn't take a genius to realise that meant more to his brother than just a new friend or foe arrangement needing to be worked out for the Sons. He knew better than to try and make Chibsy talk about it, but he also knew his brother didn't go back to a woman often. He went through crow eaters faster that anyone else, and to be bedding the sheriff, this had to be something serious. And so he threw precedent to the wind and spoke.

'So she's leaving?'

'Aye'

'What happened man? I mean, if she's what you need, we'll make it work with the club. You hold that gavel and if you want her, the others, they'll get in line'

'It's not about the club Tiggy'

'Then what, she just won't stay? She's really done?'

'I don't know brother. I don't know if she would have stayed'

He did know. He did know he could have made her stay. But then he would have been the reason she completely burnt the bridges she'd created through years of a glowing career. And eventually, she'd hate him for ruining her life. And soon her eyes would glaze over and instead of a Tara coloured hue, they'd bleed into one that was more reminiscent of Gemma. And he would never want that for her. Despite the part of his heart that still loved the mother they had buried under a plain headstone.

'You didn't ask her?'

'No, I let her go brother'

'Chibsy why did you do that?!'

He paused. Yet the answer still slipped out, a realisation he'd been holding onto longer than he cared to admit. A knowing in his chest he'd never acknowledged despite a clarity that it was true.

'Because I love her. And I can't make her happy'