Chapter 4: Picking Up the Scraps
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His talk with Clay had been brief. Once Juice knew what he was looking for everything was easy to find. He was able to confirm that the money transfers in Raniyah's account were from the personal account of her former boss. He also found an NDA between them filed by the company's legal department. The information about her cousin was true, too. He found leases proving that Lena and her boyfriend had moved from Chicago to New Mexico, and just recently to Nevada. He also found the birth record of their son and a newly filed marriage license. They're getting married. I wonder if Ronnie knows?
Juice was uncomfortable having to share the details of how he and Raniyah were connected. He only gave his President the barest version of their past but he knew it would shift Clay's mind away from the possibility of her being a plant to corrupt the club.
"So, this is some emotional bitch shit," was all Clay had to contribute, his mind already somewhere else. Outside of that he was satisfied with the answers Juice gave him, but the look on Gemma's face said otherwise, as she hovered near their table, pretending not to listen. He had never been happier to leave the weight of their combined presence. What he didn't hear was Gemma's promise to Clay to pay Raniyah a visit.
Outside, he climbed up on one of the tables, took in a few deep breaths and lit a cigarette but the sick feeling in his stomach didn't subside. He was still going to have to face Ronnie and this new mess he created. Club necessity or not, he had to figure out the best way to explain it and soon. Looking down at his cigarette, wishing it was a joint, he tossed it aside and went into the garage looking forward to losing himself under the hood of somebody else's problems for a while.
Three hours later, Juice answered his phone on the first ring listening to what the prospect had to say. Every word setting him on edge, speeding up his heart rate. "What do you mean you think she's leaving?"
"She just came out and put a suitcase in the truck, slammed the door and went back inside, man. And she looks pissed."
Shit. Juice squeezed the bridge of his nose, "I'm on my way."
"You want me to stall her?"
"Yes!" Juice yelled. Then thinking about how Ronnie might react changed his mind. "Wait. No. If she leaves….just tail her." He disconnected to find Chibs standing right behind him.
"Wha'tis it?"
"Nothing," Juice started to peel off his coveralls. "I'll be back."
"Ya good, brotha?"
Juice hung his head for a second, appreciating the lowered voice Chibs was using to not alert the others around them and his willingness to help. "I will be."
0.o.0.o.0
When Juice pulled into the parking lot, Half-Sack jogged over to report the newest development. "She came out after I got off with you with another bag and threw it in. Slammed the door real hard just like the first time." Juice was starting to get annoyed by his excitement. "But then she stood there a long time and then took her stuff back inside."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
The prospect looked apologetic, "It just happened right now and I didn't know what else she was gonna do."
"Right. Alright, thanks." Juice headed for her room.
"You want me to stay?" Prospect called out.
"No," Juice answered, thinking he was walking into a ticking time bomb and he didn't want the prospect to hear whatever ugly was about to explode all over him.
As Juice approached her door, he could hear the TV on. The privacy curtains were closed and the black-out curtains were pulled halfway even though it was early afternoon. He let out a long sigh, it was only two o'clock and he was already exhausted from his dumpster fire of a day. I thought I'd get at least a little break from this shitstorm. Leaning against the wall between the door and her window, he dialed her number.
Ronnie's phone rang two times from an unknown caller. Oh, hell no. Looking at it, she tossed it back on the bed, scowling the most un-ladylike frown in the history of pissed-off faces. A few minutes later a familiar light tapping on her door made her turn the television up a little. The tapping started again. Unmoving, she glared at the door. Her phone chimed a notification of a text received. She snatched it up, opening the message.
* Open the door. Juice
It chimed again immediately
* J
She stared at it for a minute, then leaned back in the bed silently wishing he would just go away until her phone chimed again.
* I saw your shadow move
Her head snapped toward the window, her eyes narrowed to slits. She typed her response with all the snark she could gather.
* We've "talked" enough for today, Mr. Ortiz. Goodbye.
His response was immediate.
* I'm not leaving
Then you have no idea how petty I can be. Ronnie put her phone down again, turning up the volume on the tv even more. He can stay out there all damn day. When the light tapping on her door started again, Ronnie wanted to break something. She glared at the door wanting it to spontaneously combust. This sneaky shit won't even bang on the door so I can legitimately complain to the front office!
Juice allowed himself a chuckle hearing her frustrated grunt inside, hoping he had scored the winning point in their Battle of Stubbornness. Her phone chimed again and again and again while the tapping continued.
*imma get real annoying - taptaptaptap
*Real - taptaptap
*Annoying - taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap
He heard the tv go silent just before Ronnie flung open the door. "What?!"
Juice was ready, pushing right past her as soon as she opened the door. "We need to talk."
She still stood at the open door, her hand on the doorknob. "You have got to be kidding me. Get out."
He stood staring at her, as determined if not more than she was. Ronnie rolled her eyes, slamming the door closed. She was clearly uncomfortable with him now, choosing to stay by the door. Next to her on the floor were her suitcase and duffle bag, seeing them there made Juice lose the small smile on his face. Choosing the armchair nearest to the door, he removed his cut, hanging it carefully on the back and sat down. Folding her arms, she moved to sit on the bed farthest away from him, as if that was going to make things any easier.
"I don't need this right now, Jay. I'm tired and I just wanna-". Ronnie cracked her neck, rubbing her shoulder with a huff. This was all so draining. It hadn't been 24 hrs since she walked into the clubhouse but it felt like days ago. "What do you want?"
Juice rubbed his hands on his jeans, nervous. His silence baffled her. Did you come here to NOT talk to me? Her shoulders drooped, "Seriously?"
Juice struggled to start, "So, you came here to find me?"
She was all over the sentence coming out of his mouth before he could put the question mark on the end of it. "No. I came here because I did find you and I wanted to see you. Do NOT ask me that again."
When she had talked herself into taking her bags back out of the truck, it was for this. The only reason why she stayed was because she needed to know what happened to him or it would drive her crazy. "It's simple. You were my best friend for five years and then poof…you were gone. Are we seriously not gonna address that?"
I've spent the last seven trying to forget you. Juice rubbed the back of his neck, still scrambling in his mind. Raniyah stared at him across the room in disbelief at his continued silence, "I'm not here to jam you up but I am here."
"I had to get out of there," Juice said quietly.
She was giving him no space for talking around the truth, "What the hell does that have to do with me never hearing from you again?"
The million-dollar question. Juice wasn't ready for this conversation. He hadn't sifted through their history in a way that put him in the position to answer for her hurt, only to justify his actions. He rubbed his forehead roughly ignoring her eyes searching him from across the room. He knew he was making it worse but he needed time to sort things out. He should have known this could happen someday. He should have been at least a little better prepared than this. He was just so good at rubbing out his past for some reason he thought she would be, too.
When she broke the silence, her chuckle held no amusement. "You know, for a while, I convinced myself that you were dead."
Juice winced, "Ronnie-".
"No." She brushed him off. "I was completely fucked up but I guess that's on me."
Juice struggled to find something to say in the face of her thinly veiled anger. This was going nowhere good and fast.
"Anyway! Guess what I did?" Her lively tone got Juice to look up. "I accused Hugo of killing you."
"What?" Juice couldn't believe what she was saying. His mother's boyfriend was the worst kind of miserable. The kind of bastard that sucked the life out of everything and everyone around him but managed to always have a roof over his head, a full belly and a place to get his dick wet. He was cruel for no reason and had used his size against Juice for fun.
"Oh yeah," she nodded. "To his face."
"Oh shit!" Juice shook his head, chuckling. Classic Ronnie.
"In front of a detective!"
Not expecting that last bit of information, Juice's first reaction was to burst out laughing. "Oh, shit!"
Despite her dark feelings, Raniyah bit down on a smile of her own. She had always loved his laugh. "You laughin' but that fool was furious! I thought he was gonna strangle me right there in the street!"
"Well, you did just call him a murderer." Juice wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. "God, that's funny."
In his heart, he knew the situation that caused it wasn't funny at all but her delivery definitely was. Her brand of humor had always been his favorite thing and he let it wrap around him taking the sharp edges off of this messed-up conversation as if they had never been apart. Meanwhile, across the room, Ronnie blinked when his laugh extended, disappointed in herself. She knew what she had done. Stupidly, she'd made light of it because it was easier to talk about that way - she was just trying to get through this mess of a reunion the same way he was. The false start on this conversation was dragging them in the wrong direction. Now she was fighting herself instead of fighting with him and she didn't know how to rein it all back in.
She wanted him to know how much it had hurt her for him to disappear and how scared she was for him. How overwhelming it was being called into a meeting with the vice principal and his guidance counselor at their high school to be questioned about his absences. She wanted him to feel what it was like for her to walk into a busy police station and try to convince someone to listen. To stand there begging for somebody to care, trying to prove to them that he was important enough to look for. How it messed with her head having no answers from his family or from the police. She wanted to be able to verbalize what it was like to live in limbo, without him, after he had been a part of her everyday life since they were twelve years old.
I can't do this. Once the first tear fell, she couldn't stop the rest. "Jay," her voice floated to him in a choked whisper. "I thought you were dead."
The smile fell off Juice's face as she bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Shit. Juice was on his feet immediately. Standing at the door, he could hear her crying and the Ronnie he knew hated to cry. He tried the doorknob but she had locked it. This was no girlie, hissy-fit for attention, it sounded more like she was in physical pain. Her tears mixed with noises that came out in low-pitched, broken spurts.
"Ronnie? Hey…c'mon, open the door." He listened to the sobs tearing out of her wanting to cover his ears. Christ, it sounds like she's dying. His heart rate was ramping up to the point that it ached. He rubbed his chest wanting it to make it stop. How could I fuck this up even more? Her pain crept under the door like a vapor, filling his lungs, making it harder and harder for him to breathe. "Ronnie?"
"You…you-," she hiccuped through her tears, trying to get her sentence out. "This is so fucked up! You don't get it."
Jiggling the doorknob again, Juice didn't know what to do. She put a barrier between them. Part of him wanted to leave, let her calm down and try again later. But the other part of him, the part that never forgot her, couldn't stand to hear her crying like that. That part wanted to kick the damn door in to tell her to her face that he was sorry a thousand times if it would get her to just stop crying.
"I really thought he killed you!" On her side of the door, she fought to get the words out. Her long-standing guilt for not seeing how bad things had gotten for him was closing her throat. "I dreamed that he beat you to death. I dreamed that shit for weeks!"
Juice pinched the bridge of his nose, brushing the moisture forming in his eyes away. He lowered himself to the floor, his back against the door, resting his arms on his drawn-up knees, letting her hurt wash over him.
"I could hear you begging him to stop but I couldn't get to you. Like…do you get that?! I listened to you beg for your life inside my head every night! It wouldn't go away!" She kicked the door twice, making Juice bounce. Now he was grateful for the cheap wood between them, protecting him from the raw emotion she was pouring out. "And you keep asking me why I'm here. You have been my ghost for seven years! How could I not be here, YOU IDIOT!"
Her stormy weeping subsided to quiet moments followed by sniffling and shuddering deep breaths. "Every time I accomplished something, I thought of you! I graduated without my best friend! Prom? I skipped it! When I moved for school and changed my address…when my ma moved? Fuck! And when I finally had to change my phone number, all I could think about was…but what if he tries to reach me? And it would start all over again. Wanting to look for you and those fucking dreams…all of it would come back!"
Juice was tapping his head lightly against the door, legs bouncing as much as they could in this position. She was forcing him to look back but he didn't know how. He had set his past aside for so long, having to admit where his head was back then felt inaccurate. "God, do you know how long I begged my ma to stay with the same cell phone company? How long I paid to keep my phone number the same?! For you?! Just in case you-".
Juice's mouth opened before he could stop it. "I couldn't stay." I wanted to kill him. I dreamed of killing him.
On the other side of the door, Ronnie was slumped uncomfortably on the floor trying to understand. Wanting to be okay with his decisions but she couldn't and she wasn't. "What happened that night? Why did you leave my house?" She was getting wound up again, her words coming out faster, her voice getting louder. "Why didn't you just come back? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know," he said quietly.
"Why not! I would have done anything to help you!"
His next words clawed savagely at his soul in their struggle against being forced out. "I don't know, Ronnie! I don't know! I just ran, okay?!" Juice elbowed the door in frustration. "I just fucking ran!"
He felt like didn't have a better answer…but he did. Juice's brain was spinning from the words he wasn't saying. Because I was just 17 and I couldn't handle it anymore! Because my mom let him do whatever! Because by then I thought either he would kill me or I would kill him! I didn't have a choice then!
They both sat in the weight of their disappointment with Ronnie still needing answers and Juice withholding them because he felt like the ones he had weren't good enough. Neither one was able to accept that the truth they held was all they had to work with.
After a few minutes, Juice dared to approach the original reason why he came, "Where you really gonna leave today?'
Her silence gave him the answer. I can't let that happen yet. "I'm sorry about earlier. You have to understand-"
"I don't have to understand nothing! That was messed up!"
"Can you just listen?!" he barked.
He didn't want to raise his voice at her but he was too raw to maintain control of himself and her understanding why that morning had happened was too important. He knew he could get her to understand if she gave him the chance to explain. "I know it was-", Juice knew he needed to say the right words or he could lose her all over again. "If I didn't do it, the club woulda sent somebody else. You just…you came at a really bad time. I swear it wasn't even about you. Not really."
"You still ain't saying why you did it like that," her voice sounded strained, tired. "You could have just asked me but you ran my shit like I'm some kind of criminal." He felt guilt gnawing at his stomach knowing he was the cause of her stress…still Juice had to be careful. She couldn't know club business but he had to tell her something. And she wasn't gonna accept a 'don't worry about it, it's over' type of answer.
"Look," he started, not sure of exactly how to handle the vagueness required. "Sometimes law enforcement decides they don't like us too much, ya know?"
"No. But go on anyway."
"They don't like bike clubs."
"Cause they're gangs?"
"Ronnie-"
"If the shoe fits…"
"Can I talk?!" he snapped.
"Sorry."
He knew she wasn't, but at least she was listening. "Sometimes they fuck with us and one of the ways they do that is to send somebody to kinda like, poke around, try to pick up on shit."
"What, like spy on you?"
"Yeah."
"So you thought they just picked somebody out of your past that you don't even talk to anymore and talked them into coming to bum-fucking-Charming…to be an actual spy?" Juice didn't need to see her face, he could feel her rolling her eyes. "That is some network tv bullshit."
"It's already happened, but if anybody asks, you don't know that."
"Okay."
"I'm serious. I probably shouldn't have told you that."
"Okay!"
This time the silence felt lighter. "I didn't want them to send someone else, Ronnie. You still got a hella fast mouth on you." And that mouth had released a trace of the New York accent that lay low in everyone that grew up there when she got mad. He didn't know he missed that, too.
"I know you hear me, girl," he chuckled lowly, trying for a lighter tone. Hoping that she could be forgiving of everything he just put her through. "You know I'll put up with your shit, but somebody else…maaaan."
He could hear her chuckle, too, between sniffs. Thank God.
Silence. Then he could hear her running water so he stood up. Juice leaned his forehead on the door, bone weary. "Tell me you understand. I need you to understand."
She opened the door and he caught himself before flopping onto the bathroom floor. She waited for him to move but he was rooted in place, staring at her. He hated what he was seeing, her nose red and raw looking, her eyes swollen. Splashing water on her face had left little dark spots on the front of her shirt. She avoided making eye contact, uncomfortable with everything that had gone on between them. Her dreams of a joyous reunion were shattered by this ugly series of events.
"Move, Jay," she said stepping past him. "I'm still mad, but -". She looked at herself in the mirror above the cheap dresser, sighing at the mess she'd made of her face before she turned around. "Tell me the truth, no bullshit. When you saw me last night…did you think I came to do that?"
Juice stayed leaning against the door frame, "Not really, but the club had to be sure." She took a deep breath, ready to blast him. "Okay, I had to be sure, too."
"And are you? Sure?"
"Yeah."
"And are they? 'Cause I don't need an instant replay of this morning, Jay. I really don't."
"They are."
She folded her arms not convinced. He tried hard not to think about Gemma and said what he hoped. "I'm sure of it."
They stood in an awkward quiet, neither one knowing what to do. "Do you know how hard it is to be this happy to see you and be this mad at you at the same time?"
Juice tucked his hands in his front pockets the way men do and lifted one shoulder, the look on his face openly apologetic. "C'mon…if it coulda been done any other way, I woulda done it."
She gave him her famous 'one-eyed flutter' eye roll, "I hate yo ass."
Juice's lips turned up on one side in a relieved smile - he hadn't seen that eye roll in years. "Or maybe you don't?"
Right then she saw it. There he was - her Jay. Biting the inside of her bottom lip, she tried not to smile but her dimples were telling off on her. "Shut up."
He shrugged, raising his eyebrows. His eyes showed her the mischievous imp still residing inside of him while his smile spread wider into an easy grin. And just like that, she was 17 years old again with that smile melting her anger away. "So what do we do now? Just start over?"
"We could." Juice bounced off of the door frame to close some of the space between them. Fuck it. I have to try. "Hey Ronnie, it's good to see you."
Raniyah turned her close-lipped smile away, shaking her head before joining in on his silly attempt at a fresh start. "Well damn, is that you, Jay? Where the hell you been?"
"It's a long story."
"Yeah? I got time."
Checking his phone, he smiled softly at her, still completely unsure of where they were at, but not wanting to leave. "You hungry?" Don't send me away. I'm sorry.
"Are you new?" she smirked. Please stay. I've missed you so much.
His full-blown grin made her want to hug him so badly it pained her but instead she stayed where she was, adding, "And since you got my face all messed up, I'm ordering and you're paying."
There she was…his Ronnie.
Juice's eyes trailed her movements, as she picked her phone up from the bed to find where she wanted to order from. The knot in his stomach that he'd had since she walked into the clubhouse the night before was finally relaxing.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! I love that you're sticking with me, I'm confident you'll keep thinking it's worth it. Also...I always answer my comments/messages so drop me a hello! kjx ;) **Special thanks to Lynn2008 for the follow.**
