Twenty-Seven

Having promised he'd be back from his mom's in time to start cleaning the clubhouse as usual, Charlie strolled in bright and early with his rucksack over his shoulder, whistling softly. For once, the place wasn't looking too bad and his good spirits didn't have to take a knock. Aside from a few used glasses by the bar, it didn't seem like there was actually much to clear up, so a quick once-over would probably do the job. Although he had once had to fish used condoms out of the pockets of the pool table, so the jury was still out until he could carry out a closer inspection. But he could live in hope and, if he got really lucky, a couple of croweaters might be willing to help out - Nadia or, damn, maybe even Lucy with her perky ponytails and perky everything else …

His head full of such wonderfully distracting thoughts, the young prospect was through the door of his room and dropping his bag in the corner before he realised it was already occupied and he stopped in his tracks.

Smooth bare skin sprawled on his bed, chocolate and honey hair strewn across the pillows. Naked, save for a pair of panties. A teeny-tiny pair of panties clinging to the firm curve of a perfectly pert little ass. His eyes only widened as he drank in the unexpected sight.

"Uh …"

"Get the fuck out o' there," came the growl from behind him.

"But it's my room," Charlie managed, turning to find his president scowling blackly at him. "Who …? Holy shit, is that Eden?"

Chibs didn't answer.

"Holy shit," Charlie breathed, moving to turn back without engaging his brain, only to be unceremoniously trailed into the hallway by the scruff of his neck.

"Don't be disrespectful. Try coppin' another eyeful and my boot's gonna disrespect your arse," the Scotsman warned, shoving him in the direction of the bar. "Go on, get out o' here. Try making yersel' useful for once."

"But-"

"OUT!"


At the pitiful whimper from the bed, its occupant no doubt woken by the commotion going on in the doorway, Chibs folded his arms across his chest and forced himself to both sound stern and keep his eyes off that same ass that had no doubt captivated his young charge.

"Suffering, are we?"

"Oh my god, my head …"

He couldn't keep up the façade for long though, not even after only a few broken hours sleep on a battered clubhouse couch and not in the face of that pained little half-sob that prompted him to sit down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

"All right, easy now, pet," he soothed, keeping his voice low and reaching out to smooth his hand over the tangles of hair hiding her face. "Just you lie nice and quiet. I'll get you some water and a couple o' painkillers, sort ya right out."

Without thinking, Chibs pressed a gentle kiss to her no doubt aching head and, only then realising what he'd done, quickly left to return with the water and pills as promised.

"Sit up, love – atta girl," he coaxed. "Just wee sips …"

Once sure she'd got a grip on the glass, he moved to retrieve his balled-up shirt from the floor, realising she must have decided she wanted no such reminder of him after how things had been left between them hours earlier. But she sheepishly took it back without protest in exchange for the glass, suddenly self-conscious in her state of undress and pulling the soft material on, fumbling with the buttons. He let her manage herself this time, at least until one unsteady hand clutched her stomach and the other flew to her mouth in alarm.

"Think I'm gonna be sick!" she blurted out, stumbling to her feet and bolting for the bathroom.

That left Chibs, who had earlier found Lyla in a fairly similar state, to set the glass on the nightstand and bury his face in his hands. "Fucking marvellous," he sighed, before psyching himself up to follow her, only to end up trying to hold her hair back with one hand and rubbing her back with the other while she threw up.

"Why are you being so good to me?" Eden managed, once she'd stopped retching into the toilet bowl. "I'm a nightmare. Last night …"

"You were drunk," Chibs corrected. "And we've all been there. Some o' us more than others."

"You don't have to do this," she whispered, managing to get to her feet shakily with his help, a strong arm staying banded around her waist to make sure she didn't fall while she rinsed her mouth out at the small sink and grimaced when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "Oh god, I'm such a mess."

"Nothing a good hot shower wouldn't cure. Wanna go try those pills first now you might have a chance o' keeping them down?"

She met his gaze in the mirror, pale-faced and unusually dark around eyes that had lost their sparkle. "Can you please just shoot me?"

The biker managed a smile at that from over her shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before he could think the better of it. "Never."


"I should be going …"

Maybe it was just the alcohol wearing off, but Eden couldn't seem to help the waves of sheer sadness alternating with the nausea. She appreciated how kind Chibs had been in looking after her, even cleaning up the grazes on her bruised knuckles, but it only seemed to make it harder to be around him, knowing they were no longer everything they had once been. The urge to melt into his arms, to lay her aching head on his chest and let him just keep taking care of her, was almost overwhelming. But as far as she was concerned, she'd embarrassed herself more than enough the night before.

"No offence, darlin', but you don't look well enough to be going anywhere just yet," he said, guiding her back into Charlie's vacant room and, once she swallowed a couple of painkillers with a few more sips of water, coaxing her to curl up under the covers of the prospect's bed. "How ya feeling?"

"Pretty rough," she admitted, weakly throwing an arm over her eyes. "I don't normally get hangovers, not this bad anyway. I should call Seth – I mean, he knew I was meant to be staying with Lyla, but he'll probably be wondering where I am by now."

"Hey, don't you be worrying about anything," Chibs said, in that same low, comforting tone that warmed her heart and made her stomach flutter. "I gotta go see that brother o' yours anyway, so I can let him know you're in one piece. You just get some more rest, give those pills a chance to kick in."

"You're going to see Seth? Why?"

He simply shrugged in response. "Dunno actually. He was pretty cagey when he called. Maybe just getting round to wanting a wee word in me ear about upsetting his sister," he added, with a wry smile.

Eden forced a little smile of her own at that. "Breaking up with me to protect me? Trust me, Seth'll be in your corner on that, not mine."

"You do understand my reason then?" Chibs asked suddenly, his dark eyes earnest and his fingers brushing over hers on top of the covers in the long pause that followed. "I never wanted to hurt you, darlin'."

"I get it," she admitted softly. "Doesn't mean I agree with it. I … I miss you. Sorry, I know you don't want-"

"Oi, hush now," he said gently, taking her uninjured hand fully in his and giving it a little squeeze. "Get some rest and I'll be back in a bit. Do you want me to tell Charlie to bring you some tea and toast?"

"Can you please not mention food?" she said, blanching at the thought and making him chuckle lightly as he got up to leave, but not before he had turned serious again as he leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly.

"Us not being together doesn't mean I ever stopped caring about you, Eden. Sleep, pet. Feel better."

He was gone before she could say a word.


"Just for the record, Eden and Lyla are both safe and sound at the clubhouse – hungover as all hell, but safe," Chibs told the big former boxer as he led the way out to the back of his gym and indicated for the biker to take a seat – which he did, perching on top of the picnic table and fishing his smokes and a lighter out of a pocket.

"Must have been a wild one," Seth mused, pacing the small enclosed yard. "As long as they had a good time."

Chibs thought the better of telling him too much, feeling like no good could come of the other man knowing some prick had tried touching up his baby sister. Instead, he lit a cigarette and took a long drag, tilting his head back to feel the sun on his face as he blew out a long stream of smoke. "So what did you want to see me about, mate? Eden?"

"It ain't about Eden. Not directly anyway," her brother sighed. "You talked to her much lately?"

"Not really. Not about anything … out o' the ordinary, I guess."

"She tell you about her last shout?"

Chibs frowned at that, casting his mind back to try to recall if anything had come up. "I don't think so. Why? Something happen? Something I should know about?"

"Her and that partner of hers, Desi, got called to an overdose the other day. Turned out she knew the kid. Through this place. Joel DeLuca. I'd been training him for a while, except he started skipping out on sessions. I can't have that – he had a real shot at making something of himself, but not if he ain't all in."

"He make it?"

Seth shook his head sadly. "Eden don't know yet, or I don't think so anyway. They got him to hospital, but he was in a bad way. Died late last night. Massive heart attack. Twenty-three."

"Fuck," Chibs sighed, considering both the waste of life and the impact the news would have on the young woman he had left back at the clubhouse. "Did you know he had a drug problem?"

"Not a clue. I mean, it's a boxing gym and I ain't stupid – I know what it's like, young guys turning to steroids to try to give themselves an edge, shit like that. I warn them all, that ain't my style and I ain't gonna let it fly."

"That what this was? Steroids?"

Seth shook his head. "No, or at least not what caused the overdose. That was fentanyl - hardcore prescription pain med. And crystal meth."

"Shite. That fucking muck in this town again …"

"So there have been problems before?"

"On and off. Cooking more than using though," the biker said, taking another long drag of his cigarette. "Sons always made it clear selling here was … a red line."

"Looks like someone ain't got the message."

"We have had other things on our plate lately," Chibs admitted. "May have taken our eye off that particular ball, so to speak. Listen, not that I ain't open to being a friendly ear, but why are you coming to me wi' this?"

"This is your turf and, like you said, the Sons have red lines," Seth shrugged. "I mean, I'll talk to the cops too if it helps keep this shit outta my gym and away from my fighters. I just thought, in the long run, you might be more … effective."

"There was a time you'd have been right," Chibs said, deciding to level with the guy. "Not so long ago, Sons were the law in Charming. But a lot's changed since then. And too many people know, or at least think they know, the whole fucking story o' how the club all but imploded. People used to think we were fucking untouchable. Now half the club's dead and gone, torn apart from the inside out. We ain't got the same clout."

The former boxer considered that for a long moment.

"Then maybe you need to get back to how things were – before the wrong turns," he said. "Joel … He wasn't some white trash piece of shit, wasn't a kid on the wrong side of the tracks. He had a good family, an education, could have had a good life. Maybe Charming needs the Sons more than it realises."

Chibs looked at him bemused, stubbing the butt of his cigarette out on the sole of his boot before pitching it.

"You do realise you, o' all fucking people, are basically telling me to get my club to step up and harden the fuck up?" he said finally.

Seth shrugged. "Not like you're still with my sister. And if you were together – and for the record, I ain't exactly convinced by this break-up – maybe I'd rather if she did have to get caught up with some biker, he was one people thought was, and I quote, fucking untouchable."

The biker in question had to admit he could see the logic in that. But a frown crossed his face as he considered what the other man had to say.

"What d'ya mean you ain't convinced?"

"You literally just told me Eden spent the night at the clubhouse. Still tucked up in your bed, is she?" Seth said dryly, wholly unprepared for the shake of the head he got in return.

"Nope. Guess again."

"What? Then who the fuck's bed is she in? Jesus, do I even want to know?"

"Oh, I'll tell the lass her big brother thinks she's shagging her way through half the Sons, will I? Chill out, will ya? I gave Lyla my room, so Eden slept in Charlie's while-"

"Charlie's?" Seth echoed, before he simply cracked up, half in relief and half in amusement. "Oh, man …"

"Christ almighty," Chibs muttered, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Does everyone know this wee shite's all spun round over my girl?"

"Literally everyone," Seth nodded, a grin on his lips at the casual slip of the tongue the biker didn't even seem to have registered.

"God gi' me strength," he sighed, getting up from his perch on top of the table and heading for the door. "Listen, leave this meth problem wi' me. I'll do some digging."

"Keep me in the loop," Seth called after him. "Oh, and Chibs? Your girl, huh?"

"Fuck you," Chibs shouted back over his shoulder, swapping a wave for a one-fingered salute.