Disclaimer-I still have no claim on the Sons of Anarchy as a whole. I do own NOMA, my original characters, and a whole new charter of MC guys and old ladies to get to know, which I'm embarrassingly psyched about. Get comfy, this is over 6500 words.
It was close to four in the morning when Happy finally rolled into the clubhouse parking lot. He'd been on the road for over twelve hours, and the sleeping during the day and up all night shit reminded him strongly of his old lady. He wondered if she was slipping back into her bad habits of skipping sleep and food again. Without anyone to keep tabs on her, he figured she probably would. If he'd had his phone on him, Happy probably would have shot off a text to Tig to check up on her. It was probably best that he didn't have the phone, though, it would be too tempting to reach out to her and he had to stay focused.
Happy crossed the lot, trying not to think about everything that had happened at this clubhouse with Ace, but as usual she had managed to insinuate herself into every safe place he'd had. He remembered the way she'd dismissed that disgusting whore, breaking down any resistance Happy had thought he had to following her around like a dog. She hadn't even bothered to crook a finger and he'd been panting at her heels. God help him if she ever figured out that she had the upper hand. As for that blond bitch, he was really looking forward to making good on his promise to slit her from throat to gash. Slowly. With a serrated blade.
Grinning, he pushed open the door to the clubhouse, not surprised to find brothers still at the bar on a Friday night. He nodded a greeting to Slick, who was on the couch getting head from a hooker.
"Jury." He stopped only for the charter president. "Got an open room for the night?"
"Happy!" Jury stood and hugged him tightly. "Didn't know you were coming down. What's mine is yours, you're always welcome. What brings you to Nevada?"
"Just passing through, Jury, planning to be back on the road in the morning." Happy grunted, losing interest in conversation.
"Listen, we're all real sorry about what happened to Ace. How's she doing?" Jury asked, all concern and caring. Was there a man alive that didn't immediately take a shine to his wife?
"She's good. Stayed up in Tacoma." Happy shifted, past ready for a bed, but not quite daring to cut off Jury.
"Good, that's good. Well you tell her we're all thinking about her, alright?" Jury laid a hand on Happy's shoulder and squeezed. "Just go kick open doors until you find an empty room."
"Thanks, Jury, appreciate it."
Happy found an unlocked door on his second try, on the opposite end of the hall from his last stay in Nevada. It was empty, with no one's shit laying around, so he dropped his bag and headed for the shower. He didn't bother covering his cast, just wrapped an extra towel around it and kept it out of the water. All he really wanted was to rinse the drive off of his skin, and jerk off. He remembered fucking Ace in the shower after putting his name in her skin, and it made him horny as hell. With his right arm propped against the shower wall, Happy stroked himself, picturing in his mind the way Ace had popped her ass and begged for it.
"I can help you with that." Happy's head flew up at the sound of a woman's voice. One of Jury's girls, she had a tiny little waist and slim hips, and an unlikely, generous rack. She also had red hair, and Happy thought for a minute that if he didn't have to see her face, he could pretend for a little while. But then, she was too narrow, and even fucking her from behind wouldn't change that fact. He knew that the whole time he would keep looking for ink that wouldn't be there, not his name, not the row of books, and not the little flashes of color from her fireworks.
"Get out, bitch." He dismissed her, and closed his eyes, trying to recapture the fantasy.
"You sure you don't want some company?" The girl was even closer now, and horny and frustrated; Happy was starting to feel his control slipping.
"I said, get the fuck out. Now." He yelled this time, and the girl high tailed it out of the bathroom, a stupid pouty look on her face.
Happy tried to find his rhythm again, but quickly just gave the fuck up. He slammed his palm against the tiled wall, then turned the cold water all the way up, and just let the spray beat on his back. Instead of trying to picture her naked and moaning, he let himself think about the way she always turned toward him when she was sleeping or that one perfect morning in Tacoma when she'd said she was proud of him. He could do that, figure out how to be whoever she had seen, he had to.
No Other Man Alive
"No. Absolutely fucking not." Tig broke in, sitting up in the booth, arms still crossed petulantly across his chest. "Uh-uh. You fucked him up, you don't get to dip out and not fix him."
"Jesus Christ, Tig, I didn't fucking do anything to Happy. I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt Happy." Ace rolled her eyes at him, and crossed her own arms in an unconscious mirror of Tig. Kozik looked back and forth between the two from his spot next to Tig. There had been a really weird moment when they'd gotten to the redneck 24 hour diner where both men had tried to figure out how to avoid sitting next to her or each other.
They'd both decided that sitting together was better than sitting with her, though, and ever since then it had been an ongoing battle of kicking under the table and Tig repeatedly trying to shove Kozik off of the bench.
"I'm not asking you to hide me." Ace turned her plea on Kozik. "Whenever he wants to know where I am, you can tell him. And I'll pay you back whatever money it takes, with interest, and I'll even stay close to a charter if you want, I just need to get someplace new where no one knows me and start over. That's it."
Usually so gregarious, it was a little unnerving that Kozik was so silent. He looked at her just like Happy did when he was trying to work out some new little bit of information, adding it in with the encyclopedia full of shit he already knew about her, and coming out with new conclusions. He finally leaned forward on his elbows. "Why?"
Just one word. Ace scoffed a little at him, thinking that Kozik didn't know what he was asking, but the dead serious look on his face assured her that he definitely did. And that he probably knew a lot more than he was letting on, but that he wanted to hear it from her.
"Whatdoya mean, 'why', it doesn't fucking matter. She ain't going anywhere until Hap turns up." Tig ranted, and kicked Kozik under the table, but Kozik ignored him, still staring down Ace.
The staredown was getting uncomfortable. Ace was already a little jumpy with Kozik, the ride from the clubhouse had wrecked her. With no backrest, she'd been forced to really cling to Kozik, and for a woman as hands off as Ace, it felt as close as fucking. It hadn't gotten better when Kozik had told her that Happy would be out for his throat when he found out she'd been on the back of his bike.
"Because we're done, Kozik. I'm not going to sit around here and be a charity case. He's not ever going to get ok with what happened to me." Ace told him, fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt.
"Let him finish cleaning up his mess, he'll come back to you once his conscience is clear." Kozik reasoned, and Ace laughed bitterly again.
"Oh I know he'll be back, but it won't be for me." She told him.
"He just needs to kill this guy, then he'll be right as rain."
"Well, I'm so glad that he'll feel all better. How bout this? Next time, he can get gangbanged and I'll take the burden of feeling shitty about it." Ace snapped, starting out of the booth. She'd walk all the way back if she had to.
"Hey. That's not how I meant it. Ace!" Kozik lunged to grab her wrist, and before she knew what was happening, Ace had swung at him, her height advantage giving her a solid shot at his face, which made Tig laugh.
"Shit." Ace covered her mouth in horror. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
Kozik rubbed his jaw, still with that calculating look on his face. "Nah, that was my fault, Ace high. You're fine. Sit back down."
"If you're not going to help me then we're done. Take me back to the clubhouse and I'll figure it out myself." Ace stayed upright, crossing her arms stubbornly.
"I didn't say that. Sit down." Kozik insisted, leaning back in the booth. "Eat your food. Anyone ever tell you that you hit like a girl?"
No Other Man Alive
Happy was on the road before eight, a destination finally in mind. With no Harley and no cut, he was pretty sure he could stay in Fallbrook with no one getting tipped off. He'd have to pick up a hat or something and keep his ink as under wraps as he could. His girl's name on his throat could be a problem; he'd have to see if keeping his hoodie zipped all the way up covered it enough.
He'd slept like shit the night before. The cold water had made all his muscles tense up, so it had taken forever for him to fall asleep. Once he'd nodded off, Happy had been plagued with weird fucking dreams. He'd startled awake a few times, hand wrapped around his knife and breathing hard, unable to remember what the dream had even been about.
Happy fiddled with the Tracphone he'd picked up at a truck stop outside of Reno. He knew he was breaking all the rules being out of touch like this. Quinn was going to kick his teeth down his throat next time he saw him, but for now Happy was too attached to the autonomy to call in. He couldn't call Tacoma, because he knew that the second someone said her name he'd be on his way there, and he had things he needed to figure out before he could go back. Empty handed wasn't an option. He wondered if old Bill would rat him out if he went to the shop while he was in town.
Thinking about Bill and the shop made him think about ink. Happy was always jonesing for more, it was like a constant itch. He wished that he'd grabbed Ace's book before he'd left, she certainly hadn't been putting it to any use. He didn't think he'd ever seen her go so long without drawing in all the time he'd known her, even when she'd been a kid it had been obvious to him that she was talented. Fuck knows he wouldn't have trusted her with his ink if he hadn't been sure of her.
Happy thought again about her big eyes back when she'd trusted him. And all the skin that could still be dirtied up, just waiting for him to put his needle to it. He already knew that he'd be adding to her ink when he got back, right across that scar, a physical promise that no matter what came up, he'd handle it.
He checked the clock, there were a lot more hours of road ahead of him. The miles would be a lot easier to swallow if he was on his Harley with Ace's legs around him.
No Other Man Alive
For the third night in a row Ace found herself shitfaced and awake long after everyone else in the clubhouse was asleep. She'd been drawing again, trying to push herself through all the shit. She had to be able to put ink to skin so she could earn, and she had to be able to do it without getting all twisted up over the shit she saw in her head. So far she'd only managed to draw the nightmares. Little flashes from when she'd been under Rivera's body, or the things she'd imagined had been done to Happy after he'd traded himself for her.
Not for the first time, Ace wished that he hadn't come for her. Maybe if Juice had held out a little longer on telling Happy where she was being held, she could have goaded one of Rivera's guys into finally killing her. It would have made things a helluva lot simpler for everyone. Sure, Happy would have gone insane over it, but then he'd have gotten his revenge, and moved on with his life. He would have gone back to the road, back to the club, and back to normal.
Ace ripped the latest piece out of her sketchbook and taped it to the wall over the dresser. From there she headed to the closet. She was definitely drunker than she'd thought, but too Irish to be anything but steady on her feet. She felt along the shelf in the closet, too short to be able to see anything, and not trusting her balance enough to drag a chair over. Her hand finally fell on what she was looking for, and she pulled it down.
It was Happy's little revolver, his boot gun. She'd brought it down before, liking the weight in her hand. It didn't compare to the way either of her Glocks had felt, but they'd both been confiscated in Charming. Normally she put the piece back pretty soon after grabbing it, but this time Ace closed the closet door and brought it with her to the bed.
Sitting up on the comforter, Ace drank straight from the bottle of Jack she'd snagged from the store room earlier. She was pretty sure Penny was on to how much she'd been drinking, but as a new patch, she didn't think he'd say anything. The black revolver was just a darker shadow on the bed, and when the whiskey ran out, Ace picked it up. She spun the barrel, unsurprised to find it loaded. A flick of her wrist and her thumb hovered on the hammer, flirting with it. She forced herself to put the gun back down, though.
Ace lay back, burying her face in the pillow that only barely smelled like Happy anymore, but breathed deep anyway. She closed her eyes and pretended that he was there, running his hand through her hair, kissing her when he thought she was already asleep.
No Other Man Alive
Tig waited an hour after Ace stopped moving around before he cracked open the door and looked in on her.
"Stupid bitch." He breathed, shaking his head as he crossed to the bed. The bottle she'd lifted earlier was empty, and it didn't matter how much she flaunted her Irish, that was more whiskey than a bitch her size could take. Her hand was wrapped around a revolver. Hap's throwaway, it looked like. He peeled her fingers off of it, and she didn't react when he took it from her. He put it on the nightstand, which was overflowing with cigarette butts, another dirty little habit she'd picked up since Happy had left them all high and dry. There were more fucked up drawings taped to the wall, and Tig shuddered, the shit coming out of her head was getting worse every night.
"Hey. Dollface." Tig slapped her cheek lightly, then a little harder, finally shaking the shit out of her, but her head just lolled.
"I am going to beat the everloving shit out of your old man whenever he shows his goddamn face." He promised her, sliding his arms under her and lifting her. Her head fell back over his arm and she still didn't move. "I am not a fucking babysitter." He grumbled, trekking down the hallway to Kozik's room, glad the SAA had been crashing there so he didn't have to deal with this shit alone. He kicked the door until he heard Kozik get out of bed, then started back to his own room.
"What the fuck, Tiggy?" Kozik stood in the middle of the hall in his boxers, his blonde hair flattened on one side.
"Call Donut to come look at her, stupid gash probably has alcohol poisoning." Tig called over his shoulder. He dumped Ace unceremoniously on the floor and dug his key out of his pocket and opened the door before moving her to his bed. He fucking wished Hap had his phone on him, one picture of his old lady passed out on Tig's bed would be a surefire way to have him speeding back to Tacoma, even better than a picture of her on Kozik's bitch seat.
"Donut's on his way in." Kozik appeared in the doorway, barefoot in his jeans. "You tried to wake her up?"
"Yeah, I knocked her head on every doorway, didn't even stir." Tig pulled the chair up next to the bed, and kicked his boots up. He nudged Ace none too gently on the hip with one steel toe in demonstration. He pulled his phone out of his cut and threw it to Kozik. "Take a picture. Whenever that shithead picks up a phone I'm sending it to him, he'll come running."
"Yeah to bash your head in." Kozik told him, but took the picture anyway and tossed it back.
"You know, I wish he would." Tig mused. "At least he'd be doing something instead of moping somewhere like a pussy."
"He's really done a number on her, huh?" Kozik said, going around to sit on the other side of the bed, back to the headboard.
"She's a tough bitch, she can handle it." Tig answered, and lit a cigarette.
"Well this is cozy." Donut commented drily, appearing in the doorway. He was in uniform, which meant he was still on Tacoma's clock. "I don't have much time, unless you want me to call this in and take her to the hospital."
"Nah, putting her in the hospital is only gonna freak her out. Just make sure she ain't gonna kick it tonight." Tig told him, pushing his chair back so Donut could get in to look at her.
"How much did she drink?" He asked, taking her pulse.
"Well there's an empty bottle of whiskey in her room that was full this afternoon."
"Her vitals are pretty decent. I can plug an IV into her, that should help." Donut was rooting around in his bag for the things he'd need. "One of you is gonna have to watch her, though, in case she stops breathing."
"Thanks, Donut." Kozik said gratefully.
"Can you get your hands on some prescription sleeping drugs? Maybe that'll keep her from drinking herself stupid every night." Tig asked.
"Yeah, no problem, I'll bring you something in the morning. I gotta get back." Donut sighed, and headed for the door.
"Call you if there's a problem?" Kozik called after him, but Donut stopped at the door.
"If there's a problem, take her to the hospital, there's nothing else I can do." Donut said. "You know this is really fucked up, right?"
"Oh yeah." Tig answered.
No Other Man Alive
Happy sat nursing a beer in the little dive bar. From his vantage point he could watch the comings and goings at the pool hall across the street. He pulled his hat lower on his brow when one of the Bastardos crossed the street to the bar. He'd avoided notice so far, just another shithead, drinking alone. It was hot as balls in the bar, but he didn't dare even push his sleeves up.
He'd seen a lot of the little punks over the last few days, but he hadn't seen the one he'd been looking for. Hadn't seen that gash, either. If either one of them had shown up, Happy didn't think he would have been able to resist the opportunity. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Rivera, kid or not, Happy was going to cut him to pieces. He'd start with the kid's eyes, yeah, definitely the eyes.
The thing that he kept coming back to though, was how a goddamn teenager had the balls to orchestrate something like what he'd done to Ace. And the men who had been with him hadn't been some punk ass kids trying to impress a friend, they'd been men. Which meant that little Carlos Rivera had to be more important than he seemed.
As two more Bastardos entered the bar, Happy stood up to leave. He took the chance of crossing the street cruising the front of their lair. His nose flared when he caught sight of his cut nailed to the wall. It took more willpower to put his head down and keep walking than he thought he was capable of.
No Other Man Alive
It felt like a steel spike was buried in her head, and nothing smelled very good. Ace went to rub her face, but the tugging on her arm stopped her short. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on her arm. There was an IV in her arm. A quick check told her that she definitely wasn't in a hospital, though. Definitely not her room, either. She lifted her head off of the pillow and got a really up close look at Kozik, bare-chested on the bed next to her.
Her stomach lurched and Ace ripped the needle out of her arm and flew for the bathroom. She heaved, whiskey and stomach acid burning her throat and nose. She barely caught her breath in between onslaughts, and tried not to think about the stains that were decorating the porcelain she was hugging.
"If you tell me you're knocked up, I'm not responsible for the boot that's going to go straight up your ass." Tig leaned on the doorframe watching her without an ounce of sympathy, but his jab didn't hold any heat.
"Definitely not." Ace choked out, spitting in the bowl. "Why am I in your room?" She asked, sitting back on the dirty floor.
"Because you're too stupid to even sleep alone, apparently." Tig answered, still staring down at her. "I don't get it. You're one of the toughest bitches I know, smart, too. You ain't the only one he's letting down, so why am I the only one pissed off about it?"
"Guess I'm just not as smart or tough as you thought." Ace snorted, pressing the sleeve of her shirt to the bloody wound from the IV.
"So get smart for fucks sake, and get tough. If there's one thing I've learned from watching you two, it's that no matter how hard he tries, Killah ain't ever gonna be able quit you. Do you really want to be this weak and useless when he shows back up? Cuz he will."
"I didn't want to be here at all when he showed back up, but you and Kozik blocked that avenue." Ace pointed out bitterly.
"Oh boo fucking hoo, sweetheart. I'd've forced him to man up and stay if I'd known what he was up to, but all I got is you to work with, and I'm counting on you putting him straight, so get your stupid ass off the floor and clean yourself up." Tig hauled her up by her arm, and followed her across the hall to her room.
"You planning on watching?" Ace sassed, but Tig ignored her, going to the nightstand and picking up the gun.
"Get in the goddamn shower and get dressed. Don't even think about trying to sleep off that hangover, you fucking earned that shit." He told her, and slammed the door for good measure.
No Other Man Alive
"Juice. Juice, wake up, that's your prepay." Jenna's voice pulled Juice from sleep and he groaned, reaching for the phone on the nightstand. It stopped ringing before he could land on it. He opened his eyes to locate it and checked the number. It wasn't one he recognized, and he groaned, sitting up. Jenna was nursing the baby, and he leaned over to kiss her, then the little fuzzy head at her breast.
Juice pulled his laptop from under the bed where he'd shoved it the night before, and went to work trying to track down the number. Prepaid tracphone, the area code placed it in Reno, but the satellite put the caller somewhere between San Clemente and…
"Fallbrook." He said out loud. "Shit, that's gotta be Happy."
Jenna looked at him, worry plain in her eyes. Juice opened the top drawer of his dresser and rifled the contents until he came up with another prepaid. He sat back down on the bed and grabbed the first phone to pull the number and dialed.
"Yo, I need some intel." Happy's voice was worse than usual, it sounded like he was choking more than talking.
"What are you doing in Cali, Hap?" Juice asked, rubbing his old lady's knee comfortingly.
"Recon, shithead, you gonna help me or what?" Juice wasn't any stranger to Happy's attitude, but this was a harder Happy than he'd seen in years.
"Yeah of course. What do you need to know?" Juice pulled the laptop back up on his pillow, pinning the phone between his ear and shoulder.
"I need to know how Carlos Rivera was connected enough to pull off what he did to Ace." Juice stopped short, because he'd already dug up that grave. He looked over his shoulder at Jenna before returning his attention to Happy.
"Yeah, of course, brother. It'll take me a little bit. Is this a good number for you?" Juice asked, putting the laptop back on the floor.
"Yeah." Happy didn't say anything else, just hung up the phone. Juice stared at his phone for a minute before flipping it shut.
"What's wrong?" Jenna asked quietly. "Is Ace alright?"
"I don't know, but I think Happy's thinking about going after the guy who took her without any backup." He told her, disturbed by the call. He looked searchingly at his old lady and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
"Go." She told him. "Take as long as you need to, we'll be fine."
"You're the best." Juice grinned at her, and kissed her again.
"Don't forget it." Jenna sighed, and watched as Juice threw together a backpack and got dressed. It worried her more than she would let on that most of what went into the backpack was firearms and not clothing.
"What am I supposed to tell Jax when he figures out you're gone?" Jenna asked from the bed.
"Anything but the truth." Juice kissed her again, shoving the throwaway netbook in the bag. "I'll pick up a phone on the road and call you with the number. I love you."
"Love you, too."
No Other Man Alive
Tig was waiting for her in the hallway when she emerged, pale and a little shaky from puking. She had been sorely tempted by the bed, but she didn't think she wanted to find out what Tig would do to her if she didn't follow his directions.
"You look like shit." He commented. "Come on."
Ace followed him down the hallway to the clubhouse. He didn't bother looking back at her, just ducked behind the bar and headed for the kitchen.
"Sit your stupid ass down somewhere." He ordered her and went for the fridge, pulling out eggs and sausage and peppers.
"Uh, Tig, I don't think I can eat." Ace wrinkled her nose, and pushed herself up on the counter as far from the stove as she could get.
"You're going to eat every single fucking bite and if you puke it back up, I will pour that shit right back down your throat."
Ace silently watched as Tig cracked eggs and cooked. He definitely knew his way around a kitchen, and she thought that if she wasn't so hungover, the scramble he was working on would probably smell pretty great. They didn't talk until he shoved the plate into her hands and leaned back on the counter opposite her, watching.
"I didn't know you could cook." Ace commented, and shoveled the first bite in. Her gag reflex was on high alert, but she forced the eggs down.
"I was a Marine, I can fucking feed myself." Tig commented, nodding at her to keep eating. Ace's eyebrows rose, but she didn't say anything, just studied him for a minute before getting back to work on her food. When she'd polished off the eggs, Ace held out the empty plate, then opened her mouth so Tig could see she'd swallowed it all. He took the plate and dropped it in the sink. "Come on."
Ace followed him toward a part of the clubhouse she hadn't been in before. He opened a door to an interior staircase and started down. The room he entered was dark, and Ace felt a little uneasy following him in.
"Nervous, sweetheart?" Tig sneered at her, and she lifted her chin defiantly. "That's right, tough bitch."
When he flicked the lights on, Ace saw that this was an amateur gym setup. There was a boxing ring and all kinds of weights and bags around the room.
"What am I here for, Tigger?" Ace sighed, growing weary of the mystery routine. Tig pulled out a roll of tape and came to stand in front of her.
"The night you got snatched up, what happened?" Tig asked her. "Give me your hands."
"What do you mean what happened?" Ace snorted, and let Tig tape up her hands.
"Walk me through it. I left Redwood after Hap, what happened next?"
"Uh, I walked back to the motel."
"Shark didn't give you a ride?" Tig questioned, balling her hands into fists.
"No. He was there when I got there. Why does this matter?" Ace questioned back, as Tig slid mitts on his hands.
"Did you fuck him?" Tig came back at her, his face impassive.
"You fucking asshole. No, I did not fuck Shark." She spat at him.
"Yeah? You pissed off, yet?" Tig started crowding her, forcing her off balance. "That's what Happy thinks, isn't it?"
"Shut up." She growled, and this time, Tig reached out and shoved her, and Ace knocked his hand away with a forearm.
"No. He left your stupid ass because he thinks you were fucking his brother behind his back." This time when he went to push her, Ace struck back.
"Fuck you."
"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Tig taunted, and managed to smack her on the side of the head. "Come on, you want to hit me, yet?"
Ace didn't even hesitate, just swung as hard as she could. Tig swatted her away easily. She tried again, and again he deflected the blow.
"Kozik's right, you hit like a girl." Tig smacked her on the ass, ducking underneath the hook she threw wildly. "Come on, tell me what happened. Shark was there. Where was your gun? I know you carried that shit, you pulled it on my brother."
"I put my bag on the dresser when Shark went to get ice for my face." Ace grunted, starting to try to find an opening.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that, Killah smacked the shit out of you, didn't he?" Tig laughed openly at her, and this time he barely dodged out of the way.
"Why are you doing this?" Ace dropped her guard and Tig went for her face, not trying to hurt her, just making the point that he could.
"Because you're acting like a dumb bitch. What happened next?" Tig swatted her hands back up and Ace breathed deep, blowing it out of her nose before taking off after Tig again.
"I went into the bathroom to wash my face." Ace hissed, dodging as Tig came back at her. "When I looked up, my face got slammed into the mirror."
"How'd they get in the room?" Tig grunted, taking a body shot and nodding approvingly at her.
"Door was open. Thought Shark was watching my back."
"That's where you fucked up." Tig told her, finally laying off of her. He crossed his arms over his chest. Ace moved fast, clipping Tig's jaw. He was faster, though, he flung the mitts off and yanked her back against him. He held her forearms crossed across her chest, and she struggled against his grip, growling like an animal. "Your old man treated you like shit, and you acted like a stupid bitch and got snatched up. So what. Are you going to just keep letting shit happen to you? What happens when Killah comes back and does it again, huh? You gonna drown yourself in whiskey and let Hap stomp all over that fine ass?"
Tig stopped talking in her ear when she went limp, sobs wracking her body, now his grip on her was holding her up. He let her cry herself out, then picked her up and set her back on her feet. He pulled his shirt off and wiped her face with it. Ace stood still, letting him clean up her face, and then he got a pair of scissors and cut the tape off of her hands.
"You done?" Tig asked her, her chest still heaving. Ace nodded, setting her jaw. "Good. That's the last time your bitch ass is crying over someone who left you without looking back. Got it?"
"Why are you doing this?" Ace asked him again.
"I told you, I'm counting on you to put him back together. As much as I fucking hate you for it, you know him better than anyone else, and you're not gonna be able to get him right if you keep letting him roll right over you." Tig rubbed his jaw where she'd cracked him.
"So it's all about you, then, huh?" Ace snorted weakly. "Oh God, I feel like shit."
No Other Man Alive
Happy was deciding what the fuck he was going to do to Juice if the Puerto Rican jackass ever got around to calling him back. It had been six fucking hours since he'd hung up with him, and he wasn't even answering his phone. Happy was about to dial again when someone pounded on the motel room door, and he froze.
Happy slid off of the bed, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray and pulling on the gloves next to the bed and picking up his SIG. He stayed low as he moved the curtains the barest inch to look out.
"Jesus Christ." He groaned, spotting Juice's Harley next to his truck. He unlocked the door and threw it open. "I asked for intel, not a fucking sleepover, get in here."
"Yeah, well you sounded like you were in the shit. Ace isn't with you?" Juice said, looking around the room.
"Does it look like she's here?" Happy barked at him.
"No." Juice pulled a joint out and handed it to him. "You need to chill out."
"Fuck you." But Happy lit it anyway, because Juice was right, he was wound way too fucking tight. "Did you get the intel I asked for at least?"
"Yeah, man, I started digging into it after you guys left." Juice unpacked the netbook, plugging it in and pushing a thumb drive into it. "Here." He passed it over to Happy.
"What the fuck is this shit?" Happy asked, passing the joint over to Juice and taking the computer.
"It's good, right? From the shop." Juice grinned and sat on the bed closest to the door, finishing off the joint.
"Holy shit, that little fucktard is related to the head of the entire operation. That's his pull." Happy scanned the document that Juice had opened, scratching his head.
"Fucktard?" Juice laughed.
"Shut up." Happy shot back, passing the computer back. He picked up the ring box that had been sitting on the nightstand, spinning it between finger and thumb, the high making the movement far more fascinating to watch than it should have been.
"What's that?" Juice asked, nodding to it. Happy flipped it across the nightstand to Juice.
"Ace's ring. She kicked me out." Happy put an arm over his face, too tired to get pissed off over Juice's weed making him run his mouth. "Wouldn't wear the ring."
"She wouldn't wear it because it'd be fucking huge on her." Juice high pitched laugh was close to a giggle.
"What are you talking about, asshole?" Happy groaned, and lifted his head to look over at Juice, who was pulling a ring out of the box. Definitely not the ring that had been on Ace's nightstand. "Let me see that."
No Other Man Alive
Ace finished the sandwich that Tig had shoved at her, and handed the plate back. He dropped two white pills in her hand and cracked open a water bottle. Ace looked at him questioningly.
"It's fucking Tylenol for your head." Tig rolled his eyes at her.
"Is this what we're doing every single meal?" Ace asked, swallowing the pills and half the water.
"Until you start taking care of yourself, yeah. You're too fucking skinny." Tig told her.
"I guess that's fair." Ace replied, and caught a glimpse of Kozik past the bar. She hopped down from the counter and grabbed her bag, throwing it over her shoulder.
It was still pretty early, not many Sons were in the clubhouse, but Ace felt self conscious crossing to where Kozik was sitting in one of the leather club chairs. She smiled tightly at Lorca, who was sitting across the coffee table. Kozik gave her a weird look, but Ace bent over and whispered her request in his ear.
"You're sure?" He asked, surprised, and Ace rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Let's go, I know exactly where to take you."
Kozik followed Ace out of the clubhouse, not oblivious to the notice they'd attracted, but he wasn't about to give Ace time to change her mind and chicken out. This time when he handed her his helmet, she didn't hesitate to slide behind him and wrap her hands in his cut. He knew that there would be a reckoning when Happy made it back, but Kozik was so pissed off at him for pulling the stunt he had that he was looking forward to it.
"Let's go." He told her and headed out into Tacoma.
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