Twenty-Nine
"Deep breaths, you got this."
Sat on the bench waiting for his hands to be strapped, Charlie had the hood of his zip-up Samcro sweatshirt up and his head down, trying to find his focus. But he just looked tense and, noticing that, Eden moved to sit beside him, gently bumping his shoulder with hers.
"Hey, you hear me?" she tried. "You got this, Charlie. Chill."
"What if I mess up?"
"You won't …"
"You don't know that."
"I know you're ready. I know Seth wouldn't let you in that ring if you weren't. And Chibs wouldn't either," she told him firmly. "I know you're gonna go out there and you're gonna do your best. That's all anyone can ask."
"What if I lose?"
"Then you'll just have come up against a better fighter and that's how it goes sometimes," Eden shrugged. "But you have to put that out of your head, Charlie. You have to go out there and believe in yourself. Come on, what's the worst that could happen?"
"I humiliate myself in front of the club, in front of Chibs, Seth, my mom, you, all those people …" he suggested, wiping a shaky hand over his face. "My mom's out there, Eden. She's never seen me fight before. I mean, I know she's not real keen on me boxing, or prospecting for that matter. But … I just want her to be proud of me, you know?"
"Oh, honey, she'll be proud of you no matter what."
"It's just been so tough for her since my dad left," the young man said, his voice low and his eyes cast towards the ground. "I think I remind her of him. And he was a screw-up."
"You're not your dad, okay? And you are not a screw-up," Eden insisted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a quick squeeze. "Anyone tries to tell you that, you send them to me. I'll set them straight."
Her jokey attempt at looking fierce managed to raise a smile and Charlie – touched by the medic's genuine desire to help - took a deep breath, still trying to psych himself up for the fight that lay ahead, but feeling a little better after her encouragement.
"Thanks, Eden," he said, before glancing at her almost shyly. "Chibs is insane letting you go," he blurted out, his eyes widening in alarm as soon as the words were out of his mouth and he realised the line he had crossed. "Shit, please don't tell him I said that!"
"Charlie, it's okay," she tried to reassure him, smiling softly at his stumbling efforts to explain.
"I didn't mean … I just … He was lucky is all, having you as his old lady. I dunno why he'd give that up. Having someone smart and nice and pretty, someone that's just his. I've never had that – I'm mean, I'm not … I've … you know … The clubhouse, girls are always around, but …"
His cheeks were flame-red by now and Eden laughed lightly as she leaned in to plant a tiny kiss on his cheek. "You're sweet," she told him, patting his arm. "And some day you're going to find the perfect girl, Charlie Hobart, and you're going to make her so happy."
At her wistful little sigh, he turned to look at her again, his embarrassment cooled a little by concern for the woman who had always been so kind to him. "Chibs hurt you, pushing you away like he did," he said, hesitant in his effort not to put his foot in his mouth again. "I still don't get it."
She shrugged, trying to make light of it despite the heaviness in her heart. "He thinks he's doing the right thing, protecting me."
"How's leaving you protecting you?" Charlie scoffed, his nose wrinkling in confusion.
Eden considered that for a moment. "Okay, say you knew this opponent of yours was no good at taking body shots – what would you do when you got out in the ring?"
"Go for the body," the young man said immediately, the "duh" going unspoken, but still seeming to hang in the air between them.
"So you'd target his weakness," Eden nodded. "Just like if the club had enemies and they knew the big, bad leader of the Sons didn't worry about himself, but was in a relationship with someone he wanted to keep safe. That's what Chibs is scared of – someone using me to get to him."
Charlie didn't look convinced. "But … he still loves you," he frowned. "Everyone knows he does."
"I guess he's just trying to be selfless," Eden tried, not really following what he was getting at.
"But that's stupid. 'Cause now if the club's got enemies who want to get to him, they can still go after you, there's just less chance of Chibs actually being there to stop them – it's not like he wouldn't care just because you weren't officially his old lady! Before, at least you got to be together. Now, you're both just miserable and the exact thing he wants to avoid could still happen …"
The medic stared at him, thrown by his stark assessment. "I … I hadn't thought of it like that," she admitted finally, taking a deep breath. "Well, shit, Charlie. Maybe I need to-"
"Charlie-Boy!"
Interrupted by the strident yell, Charlie bounced to his feet, trying to wipe the guilty look of his face, not wanting to get caught out sticking his nose in his president's business.
"Get yer arse over here, lad, so we can get these gloves on," Chibs shouted impatiently.
"Go on," Eden urged, giving him a little push in the right direction. "And, Charlie? Good luck out there."
Seven rounds in and Charlie was sweating profusely, his body aching from the strength of the blows he hadn't been able to block, but adrenaline was carrying him though and his admittedly formidable opponent was showing signs of struggling too.
The other fighter had the advantage of a longer reach, a bit more bulk and more experience, but he wasn't as quick on his feet and the young Samcro prospect had landed plenty of shots of his own. One particularly deft jab to the head sent his opponent reeling into the ropes and Charlie could hear – through the sound of his own heart hammering in his chest and the thud of gloves on skin – Chibs and the rest of the club roar in approval.
That alone boosted him and he pressed on, working the kidneys with a quick flurry of punches that drew grunts of pain, just before the bell signalled the end of the round and the referee pulled them apart, sending them back to their respective corners.
One of the Red Woody girls strutted across the ring in sky-high heels, holding up a board announcing the seventh round and causing the male-dominated crowd to whoop and holler their approval at her tiny leather shorts and the skimpy bra top she was almost spilling out of.
Elbowing her way as close to the front of the packed crowd as she could, his mom was cheering loudly and waving, telling anyone who would listen that was her son in the ring.
And leaning on the apron of the ring, her bag beside her, Eden beamed up at him, urging him on.
"Charlie? Charlie! Focus, lad, we're a long way from home yet," Chibs barked, lightly slapping his cheek to get him to pay attention, even as everything seeming to go on around him in slow motion bombarded his senses. "Now, remember what I told you – put some fucking power behind those fists o' yours, unless you want this thing going the distance. You good? Water? Right, get in there. Gi' him fucking hell, me boyo!"
Breathing heavily, Charlie rose from his corner stool and stormed back into the centre of the ring, going straight back to work as soon as the eighth round started. And it was all going his way, but right on the bell, he took a right hook that seemed to rattle his brain in his skull and sent up a gasp from the crowd.
He was still seeing stars when he somehow made it back to Chibs and was pushed down on the stool.
"Stay wi' me, lad. Focus," the Scotsman ordered him, tipping his water bottle over his head in a bid to revive him. "Eyes on me. Charlie, look at me. You cannot fucking let him do that! You hear me? Yer ma's watching – you think she wants to see that shite? No. So do something about it. Calm the fuck down. Keep your feet moving. Don't gi' him room to come at you like that. Lemme see that face … No cuts. Keep it that way. Go!"
He lurched back into battle, only to be caught off-guard again. This time, he could feel his lip split open and he spat blood onto the canvas, his anxiety spiking at the groans and curses from his corner.
"Come on, Charlie – you got this!"
That was Eden, leaning as close into the ring as she could without getting told off and moved back. As a medic, she was allowed closer than the crowd, watching from right at ringside and on the same side as his corner team of Chibs, TO and, fresh from winning his own earlier fight, Knox.
Seth appeared beside her and Charlie's heart sank, straining to hear over the crowd even as he tried to focus on evading his opponent's apparent resurgence.
"You keeping an eye on that?"
"Of course," Eden confirmed, her gaze never leaving the action in the ring. "It's just his lip, Seth. He's good."
Steeling himself, Charlie ducked an incoming fist and then threw a hard jab, catching his target right in the kidneys again, enough to make him visibly wince and present an opening. He took it, throwing everything he had at him, despite realising the danger he was in with three rounds still to go. Unless one of them got the KO. His tank was running low.
"Into the tenth, Charlie-Boy," Chibs told him, when he collapsed down on his stool at the bell. "That fucker's got stamina … If it goes the distance, you might have him on points, but only if he can't take any o' the remaining rounds and that's a big if."
Leaning back against the ropes, exhausted, Charlie felt strong hands grab his battered face and then his president's brown eyes were glaring at him, their foreheads touching.
"If you want this, kid … Take him out by the fucking roots," Chibs growled. "You hear me, son? You can do this. Take. Him. Out."
"Atta boy, Charlie!" Eden called, when he staggered to his feet again. "Hold on!"
"Charlie, be careful!"
That was his mom. His mom who'd been left to raise him alone, to deal with the fall-out of his dad's cowardice. Of his betrayal. He hadn't even had the balls to own what he'd done, having landed Opie in prison and away from his family for years, only to try to twist his way out of the blame at every turn. He'd even lied about blacking out his club ink.
His mom had been expected to clean up that mess too – finding him dumped outside the hospital, burned and scarred beyond belief.
He knew when anyone heard the Hobart name, that was what they thought of. The waster who got himself kicked out of Samcro and exiled from Charming. There had probably been whispers in the crowd tonight. His mom shouldn't have to hear that. She didn't deserve to be tied to that for the rest of her life.
He wanted to give her something to be proud of again.
Gritting his teeth, Charlie waded back into the fight, fists flying relentlessly, pushing his opponent back against the ropes, putting him under pressure. They got locked up though, clinging to each other punch drunk, and the referee made them both back up. They were straight back at it though, ducking and weaving, jabbing. Both now desperate to make this stop before their legs gave out.
Then, an opening.
The chance was seized and the crowd seemed to know what was coming, surging forward to try to get a better view, baying for blood. The upper cut connected and the delay seemed to last forever before the downed fighter's crumpled body hit the mat.
The place erupted.
"Charlie, you little beauty!" Eden shrieked in delight, forgetting her official role for once and jumping up on the apron to duck between the ropes.
His team, and the Sons who had been watching in the crowd, still got to him first though – Chibs engulfing the stunned young man in a crushing, back-slapping hug before he and Knox hoisted him onto their shoulders.
"S-O-A, S-O-A!"
The chant caught on quick and soon it sounded like the whole place was shouting it, making Eden laugh at the bikers' collective delight and enthusiasm for their young brother's not entirely expected success. She shouldered her way through them just enough to pat his foot as he was bounced aloft, still looking dazed by what had happened.
"Proud of you, kiddo," she yelled up at him. "I knew you had it in you."
Then, using her vantage point to scan the still cheering crowd, she spotted the person she was looking for and slipped out of the ring.
"April? You're Charlie's mom, right?" she had to practically shout at the older woman to make herself heard. "Come with me … Hey, move it. Medic coming through. 'Scuse me, sorry …"
Having shouldered a path back through the crowd, Eden climbed back up on the edge of the ring and then held out a hand to help the woman following, stepping on the bottom ropes to create enough space for her to climb through.
"Mom!" Charlie managed, finally being allowed to drop back down to the mat, only to be wrapped in a warm hug. "Mom, I did it – I actually won!"
"I know, baby, and I'm so proud of you," April managed, through tears, pulling back to inspect the young man who had once been her little boy, but now towered over her. "Oh, Charlie, your poor face … Your lip!"
"Don't worry," Eden smiled. "Nothing I can't fix, once we tear him away from the celebrations."
"Are you staying for the after-party, mom?"
April laughed at the torn look on his face, knowing he half wanted to keep sharing his big moment with her, but also had to consider what exactly she might see.
"You don't need your old mom cramping your style," she said, hugging him again. "You have fun. Take care of yourself and call me tomorrow, okay? I love you, baby."
"I love you, mom," he beamed, despite how it tugged at his stinging split lip, conscious of Chibs joining him again and slinging an arm around his neck.
"Now the fun really starts, eh, lad?" the Scotsman declared. "You know you're welcome to stay, April."
"That's okay," she said, a tight little smile on her lips. The club was still difficult for her to navigate, all things considered. Probably always would be. "I'm gonna head on home. Look after my boy, Filip."
The president, recognising the position she was in, simply nodded and watched as she blew her son a kiss and then turned to leave. Turning his attention back to Charlie, Chibs tightened the arm he had around him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Now," he grinned. "Let's go see about finding you a wee prize …"
Those mixed emotions filled April Hobart's head and heart the whole way home.
She had been part of the club herself for a long time, a Son's old lady. She knew the score. It was a risky life at best, never knowing where the next threat would come from – prison or a bullet. She didn't know if she wanted that for her boy.
If Kyle hadn't fucked his life up so spectacularly, it probably wouldn't even have been an issue. One way or another. If Charlie had wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, then he would have, just like Jax and Opie. But actually, he had shown no signs of wanting to patch in, being far more invested in school and his music. And that would have been okay too. Sure, Kyle would probably have been disappointed, but as long as their kid was happy, that was all that mattered.
Then he'd gone and crossed his own brothers, put himself in their sights. She couldn't even blame them for their response. Not really. She knew how hard life had been for Donna and the Winston kids without Opie. That had been Kyle's fault. He had brought his punishment on himself, casting a shadow over all of them.
Some people might have thought it would send them running. That she would flee town, taking Charlie with her. But she had nowhere else to go, it was that simple. She had to live with the legacy of Kyle's shame, while he was the one who got to run. Albeit under the threat of death if he broke his exile again.
And she wasn't going with him. No, she'd turned a blind eye to too much for too long. Gambling, drugs, girls ... She'd heard the stories and they weren't all just from his time on runs. No, they were finally done.
Charlie could have gone either way. She'd never have let him go with Kyle while she had breath in her body, but thankfully he hadn't pushed for that, seeming to understand in his quiet way that his father had been the one in the wrong. While he might miss him, he didn't blame April for keeping them apart, as she had half feared he might. He had blamed the club though. But only at first.
And then somehow his attachment to Samcro only grew deeper.
She knew on some level he just wanted to prove a point. To show that he wasn't like his dad. But it didn't make it any easier and she still didn't know if she was grateful or if she hated Chibs for giving him a chance.
She was a mom after all. She just wanted her boy, her baby, to be safe and happy.
At least for now he seemed to be both.
Retrieving her purse from the passenger seat, April climbed out of her old wreck of a car and headed for the front door of the little house that seemed so quiet when Charlie wasn't there. She started to ease the key into the lock, mindful of its tendency to stick, only for the door to swing open under the weight of her touch.
She would have a moment later to rue how foolish she had been to go ahead and step inside, calling out a "hello" instead of getting back in the car and calling the cops. But only a moment.
Because the two tweakers desperately using the cover of nightfall to raid houses in the area in a chaotic hunt for drugs or cash would act first and think much, much later. And their desperate attempt to make a break for it would only draw a piercing, terrified scream from the woman they hazily decided they had to silence.
The struggle, in the middle of the dark kitchen, was brief.
April fought in that reckless way fuelled by fear and adrenaline, her fingers clawing at shadowy faces – right up until one of them snatched up her iron by chance and smashed it down on her head.
Once, twice.
She didn't fight after that.
