"Put the gun down, Juice -"
"Get outta my house, Sheriff."
Denise's ears might as well have perked up like a dog's when she heard Juice speak - Althea Jarry had gotten into their house, but judging by the fact that Juice slightly lowered his gun, it seemed she was unarmed and at leats for the most part, unthreatening.
"Just - hear me out," Jarry said, stepping forward into the light so that Denise could now see her in the window. The woman seemed a mere shadow of her real self, looking extremely thin and tired with bags under her eyes. "I just want to know if he's - how's he's -"
It took only a small amount of time to realize that she was asking about Chibs, and while Denise very nearly felt some amount of sympathy for the woman, it only pushed Juice to raise his gun again in anger that she thought she had a right at all to ask about him, to even think about him.
"It's none of your business how he's doin' - if you gave a fuck about him, my wife wouldn't have had to bail him outta jail -"
"That wasn't my fault, Juice," Jarry insisted. "I didn't know it was gonna play out like that -"
"So you were just enjoyin' the ride? Enjoyin' bein' the Big Bad Sheriff in town and his ol' lady too?" Juice gave a humorless bark of a laugh. "Fresh, Sheriff. Real fresh - but see, you got no place here. So get the fuck away from me and my family -"
"Juice, please -"
"Out!" Juice had already lurched forward and grabbed Jarry by the arm, shoving her out of the house so that she tripped over her own feet onto the grass outside - Denise couldn't help but think that she looked uncharacteristically weak, unusually pathetic. This wasn't the Althea Jarry they knew. Juice glanced over at his wife and daughter, and Denise began hurrying over, trying as best as she could to avoid eye contact with the woman on the ground. However, just as Juice was rushing to usher his family inside and shut the door on Jarry, she held up her hand and cried out.
"I have - I have information," she said, her eyes wide and frantic. "There's a rat in SAMCRO. Someone on the inside feeding information to Marks and your wife's brother -"
"Leave." Juice said before his jaw clenched shut, and it was clear that information or no information, he was beginning to lose it. Jarry looked almost on the verge of tears, but she got back to her feet and departed, looking more defeated than they had ever seen her.
Even after she had gone, however, something about Juice remained off. He paced across the floor, glancing repeatedly out the window as though afraid someone else was going to show up at their door. Gone was the hopeful, jovial Juice of just minutes ago, the sight of him like this, nearly unhinged, left Denise feeling incredibly uneasy.
"W-what if she's telling the truth?" Denise asked carefully, rocking Sofia back to sleep as she had stirred slightly in the ruckus. "Should we tell them -"
"We're not callin' them. We're not cuttin' our trip short for club shit," Juice snarled angrily, his face deeply creased and his eyes narrowed. It frustrated him to no end that Denise didn't seem to get it - he was sick and tired of having the club need to come before his family, of having to practically share his family with them. Once upon a time, sure, the club was his everything - but now it wasn't. It was poison and, toxic sludged that it was, continued to pollute every good thing, every happy moment. But he couldn't leave. His breaths were rapid and shallow, and his pacing grew more erratic as he realized he could barely even think straight. There were too many thoughts in his head - bad thoughts - that seemed to collide and cut each other off in his mind until it was all a jumbled mess.
It was too much. Without another word, he threw his hands up and stormed out of the house, leaving a sleeping daughter and a very confused wife.
Denise knew this was difficult for him - she knew that he was reaching the end of his rope when it came to the club interfering in his daily life. But she had never seen him like this - at least, not for a very long time. He hadn't lost it and walked out like this in a long time, and he certainly hadn't been this distraught. He had never walked out on her like this since - since the one time, and that had ended poorly. It had ended with Denise in a ditch on the side of the road.
She knew Juice well enough by now to realize that he wasn't thinking clearly, that he was lost right now. But she couldn't laod their daughter into a car and drive around Stockton alone in the middle of the night trying to find him. The anxiety and the stress continued to build over the next hour, first as a stiffness in her neck, then a dull ache in the front of her head. But, thankfully after was already asleep in her baby carrier, it hit almost like a train. The pain in her head was intense, almost like a violent, white heat that left her curled into a ball on the couch, clutching her head nearly in tears.
Denise struggled to reach across the couch to grab her bag, only to realize that she hadn't brought her medicine for the headaches. Instead, she fished out her phone and attempted to dial Juice's number. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. By now, the pain was so excruciating that she was legitimately crying, though being as silent as possible to keep from waking her daughter. In her desperation instead, she dialed the only other number that she could think of with her mind so hazy from the pain. It rang once before the voice on the other end answered.
"Deedee?"
"Jax, I need help," she sobbed quietly into the phone. "It hurts - it hurts so bad -"
"Denise, what's going on?" Jax demanded. "Where's Juice? What's happenin'? Jesus Christ..." he muttered when no answer came from Denise, only unintelligible sobbing. "I'll grab a couple of the guys and we're gonna come and help you, aight? Just hang on..."
It took Juice nearly three hours to realize that it was New Year's Day, and he had just walked out on his family. He had been wandering around the city and had ended up near the Amtrak station on foot before realizing what he'd done, where he was. He reached into his phone and realized that Denise had been calling him too - she must have been worried sick.
Juice felt quickly ashamed that he'd put his wife through that, on a day that had started out so amazing. Just a few hours ago, they'd been happy. They'd been talking about the new life they were going to have, and what it would be like to get away from Charming for good. And then, Jarry had shown up at their door and everything had gone to shit. He shook his head as he made his way back home. It wasn't her fault, and he'd still snapped at her. It just meant the world to him to have this short few days away from the club, yet it followed him everywhere like Death.
He froze in his tracks when he turned the corner of the street of the house and realized that in addition to their car, there were three bikes outside. Juice's heart sank when he realized that she had called them when she'd been unable to reach him. He practically sprinted the rest of the way down the street and ran in the front door to see Jax standing on the couch where Denise had fallen asleep, Happy holding Sofia, and Tig standing at the door.
"What happened?" Juice snapped, walking over with a suspicious expression. "What are you all -"
"The headaches came back - she needed the meds. She was fuckin' hysterical," Jax explained, and the knife that Juice felt had been plunged into his gut twisted in a little deeper. "She's been out cold for about an hour now -"
"Jesus," Juice said, swiping his hand over his mouth in frustration. The headaches came back. Everyone knew about these fuckin headaches except for him - he thought she was doing fine. He thought she was just tired out from physical therapy, but she had never said a word about pain - now, he was the screw up again. He was out of the loop. She stirred slightly, and her eyes opened with slight struggle against the bright light in the living room. Juice hurried over and knelt on the floor next to the couch and swiped a hand over her forehead, brushing the hair out of her face. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry -"
"We gotta tell them," she murmured groggily, shaking her head. "We gotta tell them about what Jarry said -"
"Jarry?" Jax interrupted, his brow furrowing. "The Sheriff? She was -"
"She was here," Juice confirmed with a curt, grudging nod. "Broke in, she was waiting for us when we got back. Said someone was... was feedin' Marks information on SAMCRO from the inside. She's workin' with him now, that's how she knew where we'd be."
A silence fell over the room, and a few troubled glances were shared - the idea of a rat among them was, admittedly, the worst thing that could possibly come right now when they were barely on their feet enough as a charter to figure out how to handle Marks at all.
"Fuck," Tig sneered, and for once, Denise didn't have the wherewithal to chide anyone for their language in front of Sofia. "It was that girl. That chink bitch -"
"What?"
"Not you, sweetheart," Tig snickered at Denise's brief interruption - she had forced her eyes open and managed an extremely annoyed expression, despite the pain she was in. "The one from the club. Happy's Christmas present."
At this, it was now Happy whose expression grew stern and alert, something which Denise picked up on, even in her current state. But, as always, he said nothing. Instead, they all looked to Jax to wait for his appraisal of the accusation.
"Makes sense," he said sternly. "Might've been a set up, the whole damsel in distress act. We'll go talk to her. I'll call Nero up -"
"I want to come."
Denise forced herself to sit up, and Juice let out an exasperated groan at the proposition, knowing that if Denise said it, she would argue tirelessly until everyone agreed. That, too, was likely a skill that Gemma had helped her to hone in their year out in the cabin.
"Alright," Jax said, throwing his hands up slightly. "We'll head out first, talk to Nero about this shit. You guys meet us at Diosa and we'll talk to Wenya together. We get to the bottom of this."
Juice did not want to be making this drive back to Charming already at five in the morning on New Years Day, and it was obvious in how silent the drive was. Denise was slowly starting to feel more oriented, her head less painful. When she was finally sitting up straight and keeping her eyes open properly, Juice cleared his throat.
"You never told me about the headaches."
"What?"
"Everybody else knew, and I just heard about it last night because you were telling Melissa," Juice said flatly, shaking his head. "Baby - shouldn't I be the one to know what you're goin' through? Shouldn't it be me?"
"I don't want you to worry about me -"
"Well, tough tits, babe - because you're my wife and when I need to worry about you, I'm gonna f-u-c-k-in' worry about you."
"I'm sorry," Denise said in a small voice. "I just - I hate this. I hate still being in pain and always being tired," she admitted. "It's easier for me not to tell you because then, at least you treat me a little bit normal."
That was the last word spoken for the rest of the drive- Juice didn't know how he was supposed to react. On one hand, he understood his wife well enough to know how much it meant to her to get back to normal, but at the same time, how was he supposed to not be worried? How was he supposed to be level-headed? The feeling of being stuck, of being inadequate, was one he had hoped to never feel again - and it kept coming back. Nothing he tried to do, no matter how good his intentions were, was right.
They pulled up in the back lot at Diosa to find that the bikes had already arrived - at least, two of them. Only Happy and Jax had shown up.
"I'll stay in here with Fifi," Juice said - the words were like acid in his mouth, but he thought it might provide Denise some satisfaction, some peace that he was letting her do what she needed to do. "Be careful in there."
Denise smiled weakly and leaned over to place a lingering kiss on his cheek before stepping out of the passenger side door and heading inside the back door, where she found Jax, Happy, and Nero already waiting.
"You ready to head in?" Jax asked. Denise nodded, and Nero guided them down the hallway to the room where he'd set Wenya up to stay. He insisted on opening the door, purposely giving the hinge a loud creak to stir Wenya from her sleep. Clad in a skimpy tanktop, she sat bolt upright quickly, pulling the covers over herself to cover up.
"What are you-"
"We heard that we might have a pest problem in SAMCRO," Jax said in a flat tone, raising his eyebrows seriously, and for a moment, Denise felt genuine fear for the woman, in the event that she was the rat - and it certainly wasn't looking good. Wenya hesitantly got out of bed and stood aside, while Happy and Jax began rifling through her things. Denise noticed, however, that Wenya didn't run. If she was afraid, if she thought she had anything to hide, she would have been running.
"Jax."
Nero had started moving around the room in no particular path, glancing over it, when he realized that there was something under the bed - a burner. Jax nodded for Nero to toss the old flip phone to Denise, who caught it and began turning it over in her hands. On a whim, she pulled off the back cover and revealed the battery inside, with a label indicated that it came from Marks Incorporated. Denise slowly held it up for Jax to see, and Wenya glanced over as well, her face morphing into an expression of fear and shock.
"No," she said breathlessly, feeling the heat of Jax's gaze on her. "No, it wasn't me, I swear. I'm not telling them anything, it's not mine -"
"Who's the last guy you brought in here?"
Everyone turned to face Happy when he was the first person to speak up in response to discovery, looking Wenya dead straight in the eye as he asked. She looked at him with a mix of defiance and terror, drawing a shuddering breath before replying.
"I don't bring guys back here -"
"Don't lie," Happy said calmly - no imminent threat, just harsh coldness. "Who have you brought back here?"
"I don't bring guys back here - this is my - my personal space," Wenya said, holding her head up high. "When I do business, it's either out on the club floor, or somewhere neutral -"
"So just me and him."
Jax immediately looked over to Denise, who for once was completely out of the loop as well as to what was going on. She shrugged and shook her head, while Wenya took a few heaving breaths. Happy, however, was piecing things together. When he'd walked in on them, he'd been right on the floor right there where they'd found the phone. If it had been on him, that was all the proof they needed. He'd seen the guy fall to the floor, right there.
"Yeah," Wenya said hesitantly. "He was the only other one. It was - it was just that one time. I only fucked him one time -"
"I don't give a fuck," Happy said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell Jax whose phone this is."
Wenya turned slowly to face the SAMCRO president, who stared at her with intense questioning in his eyes as she slowly opened her mouth to speak. "It's Flick. Flick brought that thing in here."
At this, Denise let out an audible gasp, and Happy dropped his chin almost in a nodding gesture, his eyes moving down to the floor and away from Wenya, finally. It was now that something in Denise realized that, as impossible as it seemed, something had happened - something that had actually bothered the Tacoma Killa. Something had started growing between him and Wenya that was more than just fucking. But there was no time to think about that now.
"Nero," Jax said, drawing himself up with strong resolution. "Bring the girls out, keep them company out at Deedee and Juice's place. "Tell Juice he needs to haul ass to chapel. We got a vote to take -"
"What are you gonna do?" Denise interrupted suddenly, backing away a few steps so that she was just outside of the room. "Jax - what if -"
"We have rules about what happens to people who betray the club," Jax said calmly. "We take a vote -"
"Jax, you can't -"
"What are you talking about?" Wenya piped in, feeding off of the evident fear in Denise's voice. "What's going to -"
"Whatever happens to the guy, the blood isn't on either of your hands," Jax said, walking over. He leaned over and kissed Denise's forehead first, then Wenya's, before nodding to Nero to take them back outside. When it was just Jax and Happy hanging back, Jax looked over at the larger man and cleared his throat.
"I want you to find Flick. Put him somewhere where he can't run until the club decides what happens to him," Jax explained. There was a strange glimmer of satisfaction in Happy's eyes that made Jax, too, realize that there was something personal about it this time.
When the girls got back outside, however, Denise ran back over to the car, and upon seeing her panicked expression, Juice got out of the driver's seat, standing up to meet her and place hi hands on her shoulders bracingly. "Flick was the rat," she said in a quiet voice. "Jax wants a vote -"
"Your prez needs you, mano," Nero interrupted, placing a hand on Denise's shoulder and gently pulling her backwards away from her husband, who shook his head slightly, still attempting to process the new information. The New Year was just falling apart so quickly, and he could barely keep up. "I'll watch your girls - I'm bringin' 'em home. Wenya's coming too."
Juice glanced over at Wenya and, at least for the moment, felt an intense sense of dislike for the woman. She wasn't a good person like Denise. She'd been nothing but trouble. But if Jax made the call that she was supposed to wait with Denise while the vote came down, there was nothing he could do. He nodded, and leaned over, kissing his wife on the forehead.
"Everything'll be okay, baby," he said, but the expression on Denise's face, the sense of alarm that came with realizing that this was how the club operated, and this was the life she was stuck in, was still clearly winning out. She could never believe him right now. Juice looked over at Nero and nodded. "It's been a long night," he said strongly. "Make sure my girls get some rest."
A/N's
Well, first of all, Happy New Year! I decided that I wanted to post this chapter already because it occurs on New Year's Day, so it was the waste of a good opportunity to have the dates in the story match up with real life as I post it. So, I hurried through editing it a bit to get it out to you sooner.
But, this is the beginning of the roller coaster ride, because Marks will not be happy with losing his informant on the inside - just remember that revenge is a dish best served cold. Now that the holidays are over, it's time for the story to start getting down to business! As always, I appreciate all of your feedback and reviews, and hope that you enjoyed this latest installment as well! Until next time, cheers!