Chapter 15: The Perfect Storm
Kili let the un-lit cigarette dangle in his lips as he drove idly down the sleepy Sunday streets of town, his bike engine roaring and the wind in his hair. He was taking the long way to his uncle's shop, he knew this, but it wasn't long enough to be late for church.
He was never late for church.
The summer day was all sunshine and perfect, although it went against the way he was feeling on the inside. He should have been happy – he'd been with the most gorgeous, out of his league woman the night before and made her come at least three times. He didn't get her number, but he knew where she lived. He could even dare to hope that his sheets would still smell like her when he got home. He imagined letting his face rest on the same place her long, flowery hair had been the night before. That should have made him happy.
But it didn't.
That was the main reason he was avoiding the weekly meeting his club hosted, otherwise known as 'church'. It was also the reason he had an un-lit cigarette in his mouth. He'd quit smoking a few years ago after deciding it was a nasty habit that just drained his pockets only to make him cough more in the mornings. He'd managed to quit with relative ease, but times of stress tended to bring back the need to light up a stick and let it help him relax, which was something he desperately needed right at that moment, and for several reasons.
First, Tauriel's father was the governor.
The same governor that had paid off practically every cop in the city to ignore his own shady business ways and practically stalk the Dirty Dozen, making their lives rather….difficult. His dirty politics and shady friends had practically sunk their club five years back and those wounds were still fairly fresh. At the time, her father had been rising up through the small-town political ranks and had lined the pockets of the local law enforcement to track their every move. In hindsight it had most likely been to take the attention off of whatever shady project he'd been working on and point the finger of blame in another direction. If the small town they lived in was pissed at a biker gang, they were a hell of a lot less likely to go pointing fingers at Thranduil. And boy did Kili know it – those had been some rough years. Kili had still been a club prospect and completely wet behind the ears when Governor Thranduil Mirkwood had been elected. He should have been living it up as a new member of the Dirty Dozen after serving as a prospect, but instead he'd not been able to step one toe out of line. We're under a microscope, Thorin had told him. Kili could remember many a church meeting where his uncle had growled and cursed and punched the table while muttering Thranduil's name. And he was her father. Shit, Kili thought – what had he gotten himself into?
That brought him to the second thing that was making him want to light up that cigarette. If his uncle knew who had been in his bed the night before, he'd kill him. Thorin only had a few rules, and most of the time Kili did his best to follow them. While he'd never explicitly mentioned anything about not sleeping with the governor's daughter, he was fairly certain that was high up there on the list of no-nos. While the members of the Dirty Dozen were tight lipped to outsiders about their business, within the club and its families gossip ran rampant. It was only a matter of time before someone figured it out and squealed on him. He thought of how inquisitive Dwalin had been that morning, standing at the foot of his bed. What if he put two and two together?
Kili bit down on the cigarette and revved his engine as he made his way to the edge of town. Shit, things weren't looking good.
All too soon he was at the main headquarters for Oakenshield Engines and clubhouse of the Dirty Dozen. It was really just an old army training ground and base that his uncle's father had purchased years before Kili was even born. It didn't look like much, but it was surrounded by a sturdy chain-link fence, was inconspicuous sitting on the edge of town, and out of the way enough that they could pretty much do as they pleased.
And did they ever.
The Dirty Dozen had been an outlaw group back in the day of Thorin's youth and Kili's father; Fili had told him more than once that he could remember seeing crates of guns and piles of green stuff that he was certain as an adult wasn't just lawn clippings. Back then, the club had been a refuge for one percenters that avoided the law and had pledged to live a different lifestyle. They'd been fighters who'd seen war and the underbelly of the world and weren't prepared to just fall back in line with everyone else. While that was still somewhat true, Kili knew that a few prison sentences and lives lost had straightened most of the old timers out. He knew his uncle wanted little to nothing to do with that anymore. Once his uncle had taken control, they'd washed their hands of anything to do with drugs a few years after Kili was born. Of course they weren't perfect angels, but their business wasn't anything that would physically hurt anybody, Kili reasoned. He trusted Thorin – he knew his uncle wouldn't ask him to do anything that would put his hard earned life in jeopardy. He owned a nice house, had a good job, and didn't owe anybody anything. The club and years of hard work had bought him most of that.
No wonder Tauriel had no clue, he thought. He might as well have been raised on Mars compared to her. Two separate worlds.
He let his bike idle as he rolled into the parking lot, easily sliding his it in next to Fili's. It was like a row of dominoes, but pure chrome and horsepower staring back at him as he took a moment to admire the lineup of classic Harleys in their place in front of the clubhouse. Some were old, some were new, but most were tricked out to the point of looking downright flashy but boy, was it a sight. A wave of pride surged up in him as he took a minute to appreciate the fact that he'd worked on every single one of them. When it had its shit together, Oakenshield Engines did fine work.
Fili was leaning against his bike with an expectant look and crossed arms. He didn't speak, he just raised one eyebrow as Kili glanced at him from behind his Ray Bans, hair mussed from the wind and the unlit cigarette between his lips. Killing the engine, he whipped out his lighter and gave up the fight.
"Fuck it," he muttered, inhaling the smooth smoke and holding it. The pleasant burn of the nicotine did little to ease him as he jammed the kickstand down with his boot.
Kili was fast, but Fili was faster. His older brother's hand shot out like a bullet and grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth, turning it in one fluid motion to take a drag of it.
"Hey! Fuck off!"
Fili exhaled showily in his face, finishing with a large smoke ring. He grinned, his tan face shining like only a know-it-all older brothers could.
"These will kill you, little brother," Fili grinned like a jackass. He might as well have told Kili that water's wet. Kili swiped for the cigarette before Fili simply tossed it to the ground, flattening it with his boot.
"That was my only one!"
Fili held his hands over his heart, walking backwards towards the door. "My heart aches for ye, little brother!"
Exasperated, Kili threw up his hands and wished he had been born an only child. He loved his brother, but he could be a downright pain in the arse sometimes.
Fili motioned him towards the front door of the clubhouse, or the armory, as they referred to it. Once a place for offices, the armory sat alone on a small hill in the middle of the property and had been converted years ago into what Kili knew as a second home. They of course had a small garage and retail shop in town, but the armory was their main base of operations for repairs and inventory. The main building had been converted to house almost everything they would ever want. While the basement only held their chapter room for important meetings, the main floor held a small dining hall with a makeshift bar for parties, offices for at least half of the members, and a room in the back that held most of their inventory. The top floor contained six small rooms that had been turned into makeshift bedrooms.
It was home away from home, and Kili had grown up in that place. He and Fili had spent more than a few weekends out there with their uncles, renovating and fixing and cherishing the property. Being in a motorcycle club sometimes meant you weren't always welcomed into the rest of society. Not that Kili could blame people – most club families lived differently and simply followed another set of rules that the rest of society didn't seem to understand. Outsiders were respected but kept at a distance because they didn't understand club life and all that came along with it. While some joined the club later in life, Kili had been born into it. Hell, he was certain he'd be his brother's VP someday when Thorin finally got too old to run things.
So why did he suddenly feel so uneasy?
Fili turned before they entered, a finger digging into his chest to stop him.
"Before you say it, I know what had you all worked up this morning."
"Do you now?" Kili snapped in annoyance. People were starting to arrive for their meeting and they would be expected inside in just a few minutes. He didn't have time to play a game of 'beat around the bush' with Fili.
"Yes, I do. I called Sigrid before I got here and….shit little brother, the governor's daughter? Couldn't have picked someone else to fuck around with last night?"
Kili's hands itched for another cigarette. He could imagine the way a quick burst of nicotine would soothe his nerves and was irritated all over again with his brother.
"I could say the same for you. I'm not the only one with a taste for finer things these days," he shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Fili held up his hands. "I'm not pointing fingers. I saw Sig on the side of the road and that was that – I had to. I get it. You get an itch, you scratch it."
"I think we know we're talking about more than just an itch, bro."
"But what do you think Thorin will do when he finds out his nephew shagged his number one enemy's daughter? Doesn't look good. Doesn't look too good at all. Our loving uncle isn't exactly known for being benevolent when it comes to delicate matters, s'all I'm sayin'."
"You might be right."
Fili's gaze softened, his blue eyes going calm. The fire that came with irking his little brother was gone almost instantly and was instead replaced with empathy.
"Neither one of us is making good choices. But we'll figure something out, alright?"
For his benefit, Fili appeared to not want to be right in this instance.
"C'mon," he urged, motioning towards the building. "We have a meeting to attend."
Kili followed his brother inside, giving up any chance at getting a cigarette. Fili was right of course – on both accounts. Cigarettes were bad for him and he was playing with fire when it came to Tauriel. Her father would hate that they were into each other almost as much as his uncle Thorin likely would. His roots ran deep; he wouldn't believe that Tauriel wasn't bad like her father. Family was everything to Thorin, and he believed that to be true with others as much as it was for him. Once he'd made up his mind about something there was no swaying it.
Kili walked in and nodded to the other members of the Dirty Dozen, tossing his phone into the little lockbox being held by Oin, their grey bearded Road Captain. There were no distractions at Church, especially while they discussed business. Dropping his phone at the door was a sign that he was one hundred percent committed and focused on what was to be discussed at their meeting. Not that it made any difference – his mind was still a million miles away from anything besides Tauriel.
He took his seat at the long, wooden table in the center of the room, the same chair as always; third down, left side. The president sat at the head of the table, then on either side was his Vice President (Fili) and his Secretary (Balin), and opposite them were the Sargent and Arms (Dwalin) and of course Oin. Kili sat next to their Road Captain and often repeated things for the hard of hearing older man.
The leather chair squeaked in protest as he flopped down into it and leaned back. Members were still loitering outside of the doorway, talking and laughing and telling rowdy stories and bawdy jokes. His mouth twitched – normally he'd be out there shooting the shit with the best of them, but his mood was simply sour. The only time he found himself in a bad mood was when he felt backed into a corner with no way out. The situation with Tauriel and her father created the perfect storm – he still wanted her more than anything, and that scared the bejesus out of him, yet he knew he would go against his club and his uncle if he did it. Why did the one thing he wanted seem to be so complicated?
He wasn't upset with his lot in life – he had a job he liked and enjoyed at that, a nice home, a tricked out bike. Most would be happy with that. But there was something missing that he hadn't even realized before last night. As he'd gotten older he'd curbed the one night stands and stopped chasing after the club hang around girls – they were usually not Old Lady material or anything worth more than a onetime night of good fun. He wasn't into drama normally, so his draw to Tauriel still had him a little befuddled. Then he pictured her crystalline green eyes and that hair and yep he got it again.
The low, dull thud of boots on the cement floor made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge; he knew who it was even before the iron grip latched onto his shoulder from behind.
"Nephew," Thorin greeted as he squeezed, releasing his grip. He nodded at Kili as he walked to the head of the otherwise empty table to lean on his road-weary knuckles. His uncle was a tall, solid man that was built like a tree trunk – all muscle, no fat. His dark hair hung in a no-nonsense ponytail down his back, the pieces at his temples greying with age. Like many club members, his arms were tattooed down to the wrists with art he'd added to over the years but could easily be covered up with a long sleeved, professional shirt. On the weekends, his uncle looked like every other biker Kili had ever known – ripped jeans, long hair unbound, tattoos, a leather cut. But make no mistake – Thorin Oakenshield could be nothing but business if he wanted to be.
Which was why Kili looked up to him so much, and always had since he was just a kid.
He surveyed the room proudly and turned his attention to Kili. Thorin immediately picked up on his nephew's somber mood.
"You're quiet today. Staying out of trouble?"
"Yes," Kili lied quickly. Too quickly. Thorin's eyebrow quirked slightly.
"Good."
If he didn't buy it, he wasn't saying.
"Dwalin said you left the Pony early last night."
"Huh?" he snapped his attention back to his uncle.
Thorin raised a dark eyebrow. "He said you left early. He saw you at the bar with a pretty girl, then next thing he said…you'd left."
There was a pregnant pause in the room, and Kili only shrugged. His uncle was unusually talented at getting people to disclose more than they had originally planned by remaining quiet. Fools will fill the silence, he always said.
"Can I assume you had a guest last night?"
Kili glanced away, knowing he was caught. Dwalin had already squealed, but how much? Surely he hadn't recognized Tauriel, but he'd likely already told Thorin that he'd caught him in bed with someone that morning.
"I did. And we were rudely interrupted by a very large, pierced and tattooed man this morning. Tell Dwalin to stay outta my house, will you?" Kili shook his head, hoping to deflect the conversation elsewhere.
"He means well," Thorin chuckled, his tough façade breaking. "He doesn't do filters, Kili, you know this. He told me he let himself in this morning and was surprised to find you had company."
"Surprised, I'm sure," Kili rolled his eyes. "Nothing compared to how I felt to see his ugly mug standing at the foot of my bed."
Thorin nodded. "I take it your lady friend wasn't pleased either, then?"
"She wasn't. Doubt that it matters…I didn't get her number anyway, so I'm guessing that will be that. Thank him for me, preferably with a right hook after church?"
"Kili," Thorin warned. "He didn't mean anything by it. And since when do you do one night stands anymore?"
"Since last night, apparently," Kili snapped. The inquisition on his sex life was getting old, he didn't care if it was Thorin that was asking.
Thankfully, the old Schlitz coo-coo clock in the bar area chimed, signaling the start of the meeting. As the club members filed in and the meeting started, Kili focused in on what Thorin was saying. It was business as usual; they went over the minutes of the last meeting, then reviewed their quarterly numbers from Oakenshield Engines, talked about planning the yearend inventory, and a charity bike run planned for the end of the summer. The cherry on top would be a huge party held there on the grounds to close out what they considered 'bike season'. Normally a party like that would have Kili frothing at the mouth to help plan and execute, but he just couldn't seem to muster up any excitement.
His nerves seemed to tremble slightly as he realized that just one night with Tauriel had turned his world completely upside down.
Sorry for the wait on this one, friends! If you read my other fics, I've been trying and struggling to finish my other Twilight fic 'All of Me' before winter is over. I'm trying my best to take advantage of the long, dark nights and write as much as I have the energy for, so my apologies that this fic took a bit of the backburner. I do plan to continue it and write Fili & Sigrid's story, so bear with me. Updates will be a little slower for a minute, but I promise not to abandon this.
Thanks for reading and please review! : )
