Thirty-Two
Checking up on Charlie, Chibs sighed to find he had clearly cried himself to sleep on top of the covers, Eden's hand still caught in his as she lay beside him, also out for the count. Under any other circumstances, and despite his obvious hypocrisy, he'd have been at least rankled if not furious to find the woman who had stolen his heart sharing a bed with any of his brothers. But, as it was, he didn't think he'd ever seen anything so innocent in a clubhouse dorm. The prospect looked like what he more or less was – a broken little boy in need of comfort. And Eden just seemed exhausted, probably drained by the emotion of the day.
The president moved quietly across the room, lifting a soft blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it over both of them. He'd let them be.
His own bed seemed to be calling to him, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to sleep, even if he tried. Besides, he wasn't ready to deal with returning to the scene of the crime, so to speak. He'd already felt Lyla's wrath over what had gone down, so on top of replaying Eden's hurt response over and over in his mind, he couldn't really feel like more of an arsehole.
"Listen, love, you can't be any angrier at me than I am at myself," he'd tried, on being greeted by folded arms and that look that never meant anything good.
"You wanna bet?" Lyla had shot back archly, pulling him into a hug anyway. "That's for looking after Charlie. Don't think I'm not still mad at you."
Now, leaning down, he touched his lips to Eden's forehead and let his fingers lightly ruffle Charlie's hair before leaving them to get their rest. He just needed some time to think, to process. To take a leaf out of Jax's book.
He headed for the ladder to the roof.
"Easy money, you said. No hassle, you said," Archie Vane growled, as he and the rest of the War Boys huddled around a table in the dive bar they used as an unofficial base of sorts.
"And you're getting your cut, aren't you?" Mack shot back, not liking the kind of scrutiny he was finding himself under. The whole meth thing had been his idea and they'd all been happy enough to go along with it when everything was going to plan. Suddenly getting on his back at the first sign of trouble riled him as unfair.
It wasn't like he'd forced that stupid kid to overdose, or those tweaking little shits to fuck up raiding some bitch's house to the point where the cops were now in overdrive looking into her murder.
Now he couldn't even mention that he suspected the assholes they had cooking for them were skimming product to either use themselves or sell on the sly. That really would turn this whole thing into a clusterfuck he was looking increasingly likely to be forced to take the entire blame for. And he wasn't having that.
"You know that Hobart bitch is connected to the Sons, right?"
Fuck. No, he hadn't known that and he was too slow to keep the tell-tale look off his face.
"Shit," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "How?"
"Her old man was patched. Heard on the grapevine they exiled him. I ain't sure of the details, but …"
"But they're hardly gonna be too concerned if her man's on the out," Mack frowned. "That connection could be ancient history."
"Ain't that simple. Her kid's one of their prospects," Archie corrected the sergeant. "Which puts her much closer to the fold."
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit."
Johnny, seated at the head of the table, took a long drag of his cigar and blew out a stream of fragrant smoke. "Shut it down."
"What? Boss, be serious – this'll blow over. We need the funds if we're ever gonna get ourselves in the gun game as more than bit players."
"I said shut it down," the president snapped. "The cook house goes. End of story. Maybe not forever, but at least for a few weeks until the heat dies down. I ain't having the cops crawling up our asses over this bullshit."
Mack's face was mutinous, but he knew better than to say anything.
"I can take care of it," Archie chipped it, but that made the sergeant shake his head firmly.
"No! I can handle it. Leave it to me," he insisted, the cogs of his brain already turning. "I got this."
"You ain't planning on pushing me, are you?"
"Don't give me any ideas. I haven't made up my mind yet," Eden said, as she managed the final rungs of the ladder and stepped onto the roof.
"Watch yoursel', lass," Chibs warned, watching as she picked her way carefully towards him, noting the dark shadows under her eyes. "There ain't much room for manoeuvre up here."
He had to admit the place where Jax had so often sought refuge away from the noise of the busy clubhouse was a good spot to escape to, even if he had previously cursed his young president any time he'd had to haul his ass up there to retrieve him. And he needed that space right now. Somewhere to just sit, a lit cigarette idling between his fingers, away from everyone and looking out across the yard to the world beyond.
Realising he must have lost track of time given how low the sun had sunk in the sky, Chibs turned back to that view as Eden sat down beside him, neither of them speaking for a long time. Neither of them sure what to say.
"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long."
"Looked like you needed it," he shrugged. "Charlie still out?"
"Like a light. I don't think I woke him getting up. Poor kid's probably in shock – sleep's the best thing for him. Seems like maybe you could do with some yourself."
"I'll be all right, darlin'," Chibs said, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Nice to know you still care though."
"Professional duty," she said, making him snort wryly.
"Ah, o' course."
Silence fell between them again and Eden reached out, taking the butt of his cigarette from him and raising it to her lips for a tiny drag before handing it back as she blew out the smoke slowly.
"Do the cops know much about what happened? To April? I heard they think it's drugs linked."
"They're piecing it together," Chibs said carefully, not wanting to worry her too much with the details, but he could see she wasn't going to be fobbed off.
"And you? Are you piecing it together?"
"You know the club's position on keeping Charming protected. Not that we're making much o' a job o' it right now," he said, his tone turning bitter as he thought of April laying pale and still in that hospital bed. "Jesus Christ. How the hell did we allow this to happen? I shoulda done something sooner, before it came to this …"
Eden frowned at that, watching in concern as he pitched his smoke and buried his head in his hands. Despite everything going on between them, she couldn't just sit back and watch him beat himself up like that over something so terrible. "Hey, this is not your fault," she tried, her hand touching his shoulder tentatively. "You can't blame yourself for this."
"Can't I?" he ground out. "This club drove that wee lad's da out and now we've sat back and let his ma die on our watch. Fuck, Eden, I dunno how much more o' this I can take. How many more people I can bury."
Taking a deep breath that hitched in her chest at the sound of the raw emotion in his voice, realising he was on the verge of losing his grip on everything he was trying to bottle up for everyone else's sake, Eden gave in to her instinct to pull him into a comforting hug, just like she had with Charlie. No matter what else had happened, April's death gave it all fresh perspective and she couldn't stand to see him hurting like he was.
"It's not your fault," she whispered, holding him tight, feeling hot tears on her skin as he buried his face against her neck, his arms wrapping around her. "Please don't put this on your shoulders."
"I'm the one in charge," came his muffled response. "It all has to fall on me. But I was never meant to be the one holding the gavel. That was Jax's job. And I just ain't sure I'm up to it, darlin'."
Letting her fingers sooth their way through his hair, she gave him a moment to just let that out as she held him. Then she steeled herself for a different approach, pulling back just enough to take his face in her hands.
"Bullshit," she said firmly, green eyes blazing as they met his startled brown ones.
"W-What …?"
"You heard me. Bullshit. Not up to it? Fuck off with that, Filip," she scoffed. "I know I didn't get the chance to know Jax, but I do know what he meant to you, to all of you, and I'm sorry he's not still here with you. But the way I hear it, he wasn't infallible. And no one expects you to be either. But your club needs a leader and, right now, there is no one more qualified for the job than you. You're tough, smart – even if you do a good job of hiding that sometimes … And I know you've got a good heart. Your brothers would follow you to the ends of the earth. They respect you. They love you. Don't be so fucking hard on yourself."
Thrown by the intensity of her diatribe, Chibs' could only look at her longingly, lost for words and finding himself reminded – not that he needed to be – exactly why he had fallen in love with the woman in front of him. But, just as he leaned in on impulse to kiss her, she pulled away.
"I … I should go," she said softly.
His shoulders slumped in defeat, even though he supposed he knew it couldn't be that easy.
"I'll come back tomorrow. Check in on Charlie."
Chibs' rekindled glimmer of hope dimmed a little again at her clarification, but he refused to give up entirely. He wouldn't push right now, not when they were both probably wrung out. But he would try to make things right sooner rather than later. Somehow.
"I'll see you out," he conceded for now, both of them making their way to the ladder that led back down into the clubhouse, his arm shooting out to steady Eden when she swayed unsteadily. "Easy, lass – you good?"
"I … I'm fine. Probably just tired," she said quickly. Too quickly, he thought, easing past her when he realised she was now eyeing the ladder unsurely.
"Here, I'll go first and you follow me – I'll be right there, I won't let you fall," he said.
And true to his word, he stayed as close as he could, ready to guide her sneaker-clad feet or to hold her steady until they were both back on terra firma.
"You sure you're okay?" he asked, as he walked her to the door, watching as she stepped through it and out into the yard, tilting her head back towards the dusk-streaked sky. He'd seen her collapse once before through pushing herself too hard and, much as he was glad of her support for Charlie, he didn't want her taking on too much and having it happen again. For all her advice to him, the girl just didn't seem to know when to cut herself some slack.
But Eden simply shrugged off his concern, as he had suspected she would. "I'm okay, really. Maybe just some viral thing I can't quite shake. I just haven't gotten around to going to see about it. You know us medical types – the worst patients."
His frown only deepened. So there was something then and yet here she was, worrying about them despite working long hours and helping Seth when she could. He knew there was no point making a fuss though. She'd only dig her heels in more.
"Go home, sweetheart," Chibs said gently. "Get some proper rest."
"You will call me if there's anything I can do? If Charlie's not coping, or you need help with the funeral, or …"
Touched all over again by how readily she had stepped up, the urge to just take her in his arms and never let go was almost overwhelming, but the biker somehow settled for grazing a tiny kiss against her cheek.
"Thanks, darlin'," he managed, even though it felt wholly inadequate. "Hey, do me a wee favour, will ya? Drop me a text when you get home? Just so I know you got there safe …"
She simply nodded absently as she headed for her car and, a half-hour later, he was just starting to worry when his phone finally emitted a small single beep.
Home safe. Look after yourself. E x
Better than nothing, he supposed.
