Tempers flare and communication dwindles as everybody scrambles to deal with the fallout of a police raid that Sydney learns poses a much bigger threat than they'd thought...
General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.
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CHAPTER 27: ICED OUT
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Though it was still early in the day by the time that all of Sydney's release papers had been completed and her personal items had been returned, she was relieved to finally be free. She took a deep, cleansing breath of post-jail air after her first night behind bars, following Hale as he led her out of the station and down the steps to his Bronco, climbing into the police vehicle with her wrists free of cuffs this time.
"You still hungry?" He asked as she buckled her seatbelt.
"I knew you wanted to take me out." She looked up with a playful smirk.
The deputy chuckled, putting his keys into the ignition where the engine of his old wagon - his tried and true, sputtered to life, beginning the drive just a few short blocks away to The Charming Diner on Main Street.
"Damn... Who's dick do you gotta suck around here to get yourself one of these fancy little things?" Sydney slapped the side of the first generation Ford as she dangled her hand out the window of the open-topped vehicle. "No pussy ass squad car for you, Mr. Hale." She looked to him expectantly.
"I should ask you the same..." He chortled as he pondered the beauty of a car that the young woman drove like an absolute maniac, realizing that he wasn't the only one who seemed to find comfort in the familiarity of driving something old and broken in, rather than something new and flashy. "Looks like I could take some pointers." He raised his brows.
"It was my dad's car." She chuckled at the sound of the uptight man actually cracking a joke - and a decent one, at that. "No dick sucking involved." She raised a clarifying hand.
Hale laughed freely as he pulled into the tiny parking lot of the diner, exiting the vehicle where he strolled up the pathway to the shiny glass doors with his former prisoner in tow. "Good morning, David!" The jolly waitress greeted, the tops of her pudgy cheeks almost touching her eyelashes as she smiled at the handsome deputy. "Well... Ain't this a sight for sore eyes." She widened her grin, taking a step back to gaze upon the gorgeous couple that stood before her.
"I told you before, Dor. All you gotta do for a bigger tip is toss a little extra powdered sugar on my waffles, the flattery ain't necessary." Sydney winked.
"You two know each other?" Hale looked between the woman he had known his entire life, and the one that he was only just becoming acquainted with.
"Oh, darlin', I have gotten the pleasure of getting to know this sweet sugar pie over the past few weeks." Doreen squeezed Sydney's hands affectionately before leading them to a booth at the back of the restaurant. "I'll be back with coffee!" She called over her shoulder on her way to the kitchen. "Are you both havin' your usuals?" The pair nodded their confirmation - one of the nice things of a small town.
"You're even more popular than I thought." Hale observed aloud, not quite able to make eye contact with her across the empty table as the morning sun reflected off of her painfully radiant face.
"Soon I'll be more popular than you, deputy." She smirked.
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Jax sat atop his Harley, revelling in the soothing vibration that came from his handlebars and reverberated through his hands as he made his way to TM from his house where he had been sleeping ever since Sydney's smugness had sent him storming out of the clubhouse. He would never admit it, but he was thankful for the push that her blackmail had given him to return back to his home now that Wendy was no longer there.
He took the long way to the clubhouse; around the perimeter of the small town, and down Main Street - something that, over the last couple of days, he'd discovered an unexpected sense of peace in. His engine rumbled beneath him as he coasted through the morning traffic, rolling to a stop right outside of The Charming Diner where he gave a friendly smile to the passing school girls who were clearly eyeing him up. He chuckled, pulling his eyes away when they landed on the large bay windows of the town's only real restaurant to see Sydney having a friendly meal with none other than David Hale.
He snarled as he watched the snake of a girl laugh with the cop who had made it his life's mission to destroy his club, speeding the rest of the way to the clubhouse and forgetting all about his peaceful ride.
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"Chicken and waffles, with powdered sugar and double bacon..." Hale looked at Sydney's plate with a raised eyebrow as he stared at the absolute last meal that he would've expected the petite woman to order.
"What can I say? I can take a lot of meat." She winked as she unrolled her cutlery.
Hale laughed into his black coffee, setting the mug down before he got started on his vegetarian omelet and side of turkey bacon, accompanied by two pieces of whole wheat toast.
"God, you even eat like a cop." Sydney winced.
"And what exactly does a cop eat like?" He raised a brow as he speared a piece of egg with his fork.
"A pussy." She deadpanned, cackling when he nearly choked on his food through his snort.
The pair finished up their meals quickly before Sydney excused herself to use the restroom while Hale headed to the front of the restaurant to pay - his punishment for losing the bet that they'd made that she couldn't finish her entire plate.
"You takin' that one back to the street corner?" Hale heard from behind him, recognizing the voice of one of his older colleagues as he turned to see Benson and Smith standing behind him where they'd stopped in for their morning supply of coffee and donuts.
"Not exactl-" He began before a sweet voice cut him off.
"I asked him for a ride to Lodi." Sydney seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "All you small town boys can't afford me." She winked, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.
Hale's face was blank for a few seconds as he blinked through the surprise before finally chuckling in amusement. "I'll see you two later." He tossed a smirk over his shoulder at the men that he knew would understand - unlike Mark - as he followed her out.
But with each step that they took across the lot - with each swing of her hips that he was watching very closely - Hale felt his conscience getting heavier and heavier. He'd had such an enjoyable morning with the woman that he was supposed to despise - the woman who was helping spread crime throughout his town, the woman who worked with the men that corrupted his superiors. She wasn't supposed to be sweet or funny, or adored by everybody that she met. She wasn't supposed to make his cheeks hurt from smiling more than he had in months. She was supposed to be unreasonable; corrupt and greedy, but she was the opposite.
"Thanks, Davy..." He was brought out of his head and back to the reality that was just as conflicting as her delicate hand rested over his, looking up from the steering wheel to see that they had made it to the clubhouse in his haze. He blinked as he regained his bearings after the silent drive that he'd made on complete and total auto-pilot - no matter how short of a drive it was - looking around the relatively empty compound.
"Like I said before." He spoke with no emotion, not daring to look into those captivating green eyes more than he already had. "Just doing my job." He nodded curtly.
Sydney smirked, now confident that she had succeeded in twisting him up just the way that she'd intended to. She opened the door, closing it with a smile before she strolled over to the clubhouse where Jax sat on a picnic table.
The VP stood when Sydney approached, standing next to her where he waved to the good deputy with a sarcastic smile as he sped off. Sydney chuckled, turning to head inside before she felt her body being violently slammed against the rough bricks of the building.
"I see what you're doing, you little whore." Jax seethed his horrible misled evaluation through gritted teeth while he held her against the wall with his forearm pressed harshly against her chest, his elbow digging into her collarbone. "Fuck Tig to get yourself a patch, fuck Hale to get out of charges." The blonde man spit the angry accusation at her.
Sydney tried with everything that she had to channel the strength and control that she'd seen her President exhibit the day before as her veins coursed with pure, unadulterated adrenaline in the type of moment that she would usually thrive in. But it was countered by the anger in her heaving chest under his restraint, boiling over as soon as Tig's name left his mouth. She jabbed her fist into his stomach, her foot hooking his ankle and knocking him off balance as she spun him around and switched their positions, swiping the gun from the back of his pants in the process.
Jackson Nathaniel Teller, the Vice President of the mother chapter of the infamous Sons of Anarchy outlaw motorcycle club, found himself pinned to the wall by a girl that was half his size, with the barrel of his own gun pressed to his forehead.
"Do you wanna accuse me of shit? Or do you wanna hear what I found out on my little field trip?" She sneered. Jax said nothing, shaking his head as he looked away, but she stopped him, using the barrel of the gun to bring his hate-filled eyes back to hers. "Lay your hands on me again? I won't leave that face so pretty." She snarled, pushing off of him and walking into the clubhouse. "Call church." She called over her shoulder as she tossed his gun back.
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"Why the hell would you bring Hale here?" Tig yelled, his shrill voice echoing through the chapel from where he sat at the full table.
"I didn't see your ass waiting to pick me up!" Sydney yelled back. "Bringing him here shows him that we ain't got nothing to hide."
"Enough!" Clay yelled, the recent events having completely stripped him of his patience. "Tell us what yesterday was really about." He sighed.
"Order came from ATF - some fed you guys pissed off. Josh Kohn?" Her brows knitted.
"Who the hell is that?" Clay scowled, looking to his crew for an identification.
"No idea." Jax shook his head, just as confused as his President was.
"Well, whoever he is, he followed Little Red Riding Hood over here to the warehouse bones." She nodded to Jax as she fiddled with her necklace. "That's why Hale's so sure that it's our facility. Kohn called for the raid after he tailed the Mayan shootout on Tuesday. He and Hale wanna start an official investigation with ATF, but they don't have enough evidence, so we need to make sure it stays that way."
"So you're sayin' that you got your pretty little ass thrown into a dirty prison cell, just to get intel?" Bobby snorted skeptically.
"Is that so hard to believe?" She stared at the old man with an icy squint. "The club protects their own." She explained with a nod. "And I didnt have any priors." She smirked, earning a couple of chuckles before she turned her attention to Clay. "Unser didn't know about it until it was happening, this wasn't payback. He got our message loud and clear." She stated firmly. "He got baldy to drop the charges against me as a show of good faith." She felt for the old cop after the short time that she'd spent with him, it was clear that he had a soft spot for the MC for some reason or another, and it was a soft spot that he was allowing to kill him.
"I'll let Unser know that we're good." Clay assured with a nod.
"Did Vegas get up to Indian Hills okay?" Sydney turned her gaze back to Jax as she slid the golden pendant along the chain slowly, tauntingly.
"Yeah... They did." Clay nodded, watching the harsh staredown between the two blondes.
"Good." She turned back to her President. "We done here?" She cocked her head.
"Uh, yeah." Clay blinked, not used to seeing her so eager to leave. He knew that between this, and the day before, that something was going on between her and Jax, but he couldn't bring himself to worry about it. She had only given him reason to trust her thus far, and with everything else that was circulating in his head, he decided that, at the very least, she'd earned herself the benefit of the doubt after she'd fought back when he couldn't, put her ass on the line to defend his wife - even if it was just to push her own agenda. She'd proven that she knew what she was doing, and whatever it was that she had going on behind the scenes with the VP was for a reason - like everything else that she did.
"Hey!" Sydney heard Tig calling after her as she scurried to her car, but she didn't stop - letting her black cork wedges carry her across the pavement and into the vehicle as quickly as possible without looking like she was trying to get away from him. "Hey, where you goin'?" He squinted once he reached her open window, resting his arm on the warm roof of the black car.
"Got somethin' I need to do." She answered coldly, not making eye contact as she shifted her car into reverse.
"You scared the shit out of me yesterday, you know..." He nodded thoughtfully.
"Sorry." She replied with a weak smile, finally looking up at him before quickly looking back away.
Tig realized that he wasn't going to get the response that he wanted, lifting his arm off of the vehicle in defeat when he noticed the angry red patch of irritated skin on the back of her shoulder, his eyes shifting to the discolouration on her chest that had earlier been concealed by her long hair. "Stop." He squeezed his eyes shut. He'd known that something had been off when her hand had taken up permanent residence on that damn necklace, but now his mind was going into overdrive as he realized that it may have been much worse than he'd originally thought...
Sydney exhaled sharply, ripping up the parking brake and turning to face him. "What?" She asked impatiently.
"What happened?" He asked just above a whisper, the worry trembling in his voice as he lightly brushed his fingers over her aching chest.
"I said I have to go." She replied after staring at him for a few seconds. She wasn't in the correct mindset to deal with his growing need to protect her - something that she had spent her entire life learning how to do herself.
Tig ground his teeth as her car rolled backwards before she peeled out of the lot - her tires spitting up gravel in their wake. "Fuck." He ran his hands over his face, feeling his frustration building before he let it boil over. "Fuck!" He yelled as he slammed his fist into the side of the nearest vehicle - which luckily for him was just the TM truck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He drove his knuckles into the metal with each curse that left his mouth, hissing as he shook out his hand and stalked into the bar for today's lethal dose of whiskey.
Sydney knew that she needed to go home and shower off her uncomfortable night in jail, and frustrating morning at the clubhouse, but she couldn't get herself to do anything before she carried out the one task that hadn't left her mind since the day before.
"Excuse me?" She approached a middle-aged redhead once she'd passed through the sliding glass doors of . "Do you know where I can find ?"
Margaret Murphy looked the provocatively dressed blonde up and down before scoffing. "The women's clinic is down that way." She pointed her clipboard down a hallway to their left.
"It's a personal visit, actually." Sydney deadpanned. "But next time I need to kill a baby or fight off chlamydia, I'll remember that." She smiled sarcastically before heading towards the natal wing where she hoped to find someone more helpful.
"Sydney?" She heard from behind her, turning to see exactly who she was looking for. "Hi, are you okay? I saw you in a cop car yesterday..." Tara's guilty brown eyes scanned her disheveled appearance.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Sydney brushed off the curious look that accompanied the doctor's question. "Is there somewhere that we can talk?"
Tara's brow creased, but she nodded, leading them to an empty counselling room where they sat down on the hard leather sofa. "Is everything okay?" She asked once the door clicked shut, her mounting anxiety over Kohn making it harder than usual for her to keep her cool - especially in the presence of his collateral damage - as she wrung her hands and blinked rapidly.
"That phone call that you got when I was here last... That one I asked you about? Does it have anything to do with why you were at the police station yesterday?" She tried to broach the sensitive subject as subtly as possible.
Tara's face fell. "Gemma told you." She scoffed with a shake of her head.
"What?" Sydney scowled.
"God! Is nothing private around here?" She stood, her hands dragging harshly over her face in a punishing swipe of frustration as she began pacing around the room. "How fucking stupid of me to think that I would come back here and be safe. No! Everything is all about the fucking gossip."
Any other day, Sydney may have had a bit more sympathy for the outburst, but today was not that day; she was exhausted, sore, dirty, and pissed off. She stood hastily, taking two giant steps before her wedges had her standing nose to nose with the hysterical brunette. "I watched my mama get beaten half to death on the daily, so forgive me for being concerned." She sneered, almost bumping foreheads with the older woman. "I came here out of the goodness of my heart, as a friend. I am not Gemma." She stepped back, letting her angry eyes linger as she sat back down, brushing her tangled hair out of her face as she took a deep breath.
"I'm-" Tara's voice cracked as her eyes landed on the early-staged bruises on her chest - understanding now why she wanted to help... "I'm sorry, I'm just-" She broke down, collapsing onto the couch and burying her face in her hands. "I'm a mess." She sobbed. "I'm on edge, I don't know what to do, where to go."
"Who is he?" Sydney asked softly.
"A guy I dated in Chicago." She took a deep breath. "Things got weird, I tried to end it, he got violent. Now he's here."
"Did you tell Jax?" Sydney widened her eyes.
"No, because-" Tara tried to find the right words as everything that she knew about the biker world - about snitches - flooded her painfully conflicted mind. "I'm the reason that you got in trouble yesterday..." She whispered shakily.
"How?" Sydney's forehead creased.
"Kohn!" Tara yelled, as if it was the only way that she could make herself say his name. "He isn't here on ATF business regarding the Sons, he's here for me." She shook her head. "He found out about my past with Jax and he's coming down on the club to try and scare me away from him."
"The fed..." Sydney pieced it together, finally understanding why Tara had been so hesitant to tell Hale.
"He's dangerous." Tara began to hyperventilate. "I tried to tell the cops in Chicago and it only made things worse. I thought that maybe if I told Jax, it would be safer, but I was wrong. If I tell him, Kohn will just keep looking for things to crush the club."
"So that's why you're back." Sydney surmised with an understanding nod.
"It's not like that." Tara snapped.
"It's kinda romantic, if you think about it..." She shrugged playfully.
"You're-" Tara shook her head incredulously. "You're not gonna tell him?" She looked into the sincere green eyes of the blonde girl sitting across from her.
"I told you, I'm not Gemma." Sydney nodded. "But you need to let Jax deal with Kohn."
"What? What do you mean deal with him?" Sydney didn't answer, speaking with her knowing eyes, instead. "You think I came back here because I knew that Jax would kill him for me?" She barked in offense before she came to her own realization that maybe Sydney was right - subconsciously, it was exactly why she'd come back... "And you're telling me to let him do it?" She blinked. "God, maybe you are Gemma." She chortled.
"He's a criminal, Tara. It's what he's good at, so let him be." Sydney nodded. "Men put us through enough shit, we deserve a little something in return." She gave a sympathetic smile.
"Okay, I'll tell him." Tara agreed before Sydney got up to leave. "Sydney." She called after the younger woman, hesitating when she turned to face her. "I'm sorry…" That I didn't know Tig was doing the same thing to you. "About your mother."
"I'm not." Sydney smiled sadly, letting the heavy door close behind her.
After her long awaited shower, Sydney padded down the carpeted stairs of the house that felt empty for the first time since she'd moved in, squeezing the excess water out of her hair when she was startled by her doorbell ringing. She scowled, she wasn't expecting visitors, and she hadn't heard a bike pull onto her street - her nerves beginning to tremble as Tara's haunting story began to ring through her ears. She tiptoed over to the peephole as she eyed the Glock that she kept on the table by the door, peering outside where a groan escaped her lips as a halo of dark curls came into view.
"We need to talk." Tig stumbled into the house where he almost tripped over the threshold.
"You're drunk?" She raised a brow as he slurred his words before noon on a Thursday. "And you drove?" Her voice rose as her eyes landed on his silent mode of transportation; the dented TM tow truck that was parked horribly in her driveway.
"M'fine." He shrugged, shaking out his sore hand.
"No. You're not." She barked as her eyes landed on his reddened knuckles, realizing that the dents were from his fist and not from something that he'd smashed into along the way - almost wishing that it had been the latter. "Did we not just fucking talk about needing to stay off of ATF's radar?" She smacked him in the shoulder. "Go take a shower and sleep this off." She pointed up the stairs with one hand as the other affixed itself to her hip.
"I said I need to talk to yo-"
"I don't give a shit what you said, I'm not talking to you while you're like this." She shook her head, her stance not faltering. "We can talk when you wake up, or you can leave. Choice is yours."
Tig hung his head, moping as he turned toward the stairs and began slowly hobbling up, taking much longer than needed in hopes that she would give in while he was still intoxicated enough to be able to stomach the conversation that the alcohol had given him the courage to consider having. He wanted her to know the truth - why he was acting in a way that seemed so irrational and opposite to what she was used to - but that meant that he would have to face the awful memory that he'd spent decades trying to forget, and that was something that he was not ready to do sober.
"I'm not changing my mind, go!" She thrusted her finger in the direction of her bedroom.
He chuckled when she called out his tactic, continuing up the stairs at a normal pace this time, reaching her bedroom where he ambled into the bathroom and practically rolled into the cold shower - thanks to her use of every drop of hot water. He sat on the tiled floor while the steady stream washed over his crumpled form, drenching his curls while they hung in his face as he stared blankly down the drain. He eventually managed to heave himself up, barely towelling off before landing face first on her bed, passing out instantly.
Tig woke up a few hours later, lifting his head as he tried to regain his bearings, looking down to see that Sydney had covered his bare frame with a blanket at some point during his sober-up slumber. But his original mission quickly returned to his mind as he stumbled back into the bathroom to find his discarded clothing, pulling on his jeans and boxers - not bothering with his socks or shirt before he headed towards the stairs.
Sydney looked up from her position on the couch where she'd been reading a Stephen King book, setting it down on the coffee table when Tig entered the room shirtless and sat on the loveseat across from her in silence, looking down to the hardwood floor as he tried to make himself say what he needed to say.
"Did you have a good nap?" She raised an eyebrow playfully, dropping it when he shook his head and his gaze remained fixed on the ground. "There are leftovers in the fridge." She nodded to the kitchen where she'd made lunch while he was sleeping off his morning margaritas.
"I'm not hungry." He shook his head again.
"You need to eat somethi-"
"Syd..." He looked up at her with a pained expression, knowing that he couldn't do it. "Come here." He practically begged her, holding out his hand.
Sydney uncrossed her legs and walked over to him cautiously, gently brushing her fingers against his, sending a shock rippling through his body. He pulled her into his lap where he wrapped his arms around her, desperate for as much comfort as his guilty conscience could get. "I'm sorry..." He whimpered into her hair as the emotions, exhaustion, and effects of the alcohol all took over at once and broke him down.
Sydney sighed when he pulled her against the warmth of his bare chest - a simple action that had so much power over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, hugging him back as she ran her fingers through his curls.
"We gotta stop this." He shook his head, pulling back to look at her with his tear-filled eyes.
"What?" She ran her thumb over his cheek.
"Bein' stupid..." He shook his head sorrowfully, tucking a wavy piece of white-blonde hair behind her ear.
"I'll stop when you stop." She smiled softly, brushing her nose against his.
He chuckled, holding her face in his hands as he pressed his lips to hers, pulling away and resting his forehead against hers. "You were right, there are things that we can't tell each other right now..." He decided that agreeing with her was what was best for right now. It's not like she was wrong, he just wished that she was - that he wasn't too much of a pussy to just explain why he was scared. But if he didn't force her to share all of her secrets, then she wouldn't force him - and that was what his battered mind needed while he reburied the bones of his past. "But I want to get to a place where we can." He nodded.
"Okay." Sydney nodded.
"I love you." He looked up into her eyes, nodding his apology-laced sincerity.
"I love you too." She nodded back, stroking his hands that had clasped around her face before she leaned in kissed him deeply.
"So, you have fun in Unser's cage?" He grinned when their lips parted.
"Oh, Sergeant." She grinned back. "Have I got a story for you..."
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Song for this chapter
Can't Be Tamed - Miley Cyrus