The Heart of a Broken Soul
Of Dolls and Donuts
A/N- Thank you to my lovely reviewers; Dahlia Rose-Marie, Bunnygal83, Well I Don't Mind, lyndaflpn, Venetiangrl92, otte1978, chikkafreak, liiddee (and a guest. Your review has been accepted, but not shown up...)
Tig was an easy man to catch on his own. Gabby simply asked him to pick her up from work, because everyone else was busy, and told everyone else she had a lift. No fuss, no problem.
When Gabby delivered her last order for the night, she was feeling pretty nervous. Tig was just as liable to freak out if he found out she was attacked than any of the other boys. This would require some finesse, and smooth lying.
"Ya ready, or what? Thought you said ya finished at 10?" Tig asked. He'd wandered inside after waiting a good 20 minutes.
"No, I said 10:30," Gabby insisted. She had told him 10, but it was much easier to talk anywhere but on a bike. "I'm just finishing up now." Charlie had extended the opening hours to 10:30, and was now doing dinner almost every night.
"Right, well hurry up. Got things to do, ya know? Hey, pass us the donut would ya? Here." He handed Gabby some cash, before leaning against the counter with his donut in hand, glaring at all the customers as though Gabby finishing at 10:30 and not, as he'd thought, 10, was their fault.
Gabby made sure the drink fridge was stocked and all her duties done before she took her apron off. She said goodbye to Charlie, and wandered back out the front to where Tig was waiting.
"So," she began, trying to decide the best way to go. "You lot are up to something again?"
Tig glanced at her, his face forming a frown. "What do ya mean?"
"Oh, I get it; 'club business' and all that. Understandable really, but if it's going to affect me then I'd like to know."
Gabby followed him into the parking lot as he scowled. "There isn't nothing going on, and if there was, it wouldn't have anything to do with you or that shithead Jeremy."
But Gabby hadn't even mentioned Jeremy. "It's got something to do with Jeremy?"
Tig swore as Gabby raised an eyebrow. If it had something to do with Jeremy, then she was also involved in some way. Jeremy owed Darby a lot of money. Was it possible that his death had caused problems for the club? So that was the money they had to pay up.
Filip had mentioned it to her when she was still in hospital. She hadn't thought too much about it since – Darby was too smart to go to war with the sons – but now it seemed important. Darby obviously had something up his sleeve, and Jeremy must have been a part of it.
The only reason the boys had killed Jeremy in the first place was because of her. If she hadn't have said anything, didn't tell them who'd attacked her, Jeremy would be alive and the club wouldn't be in this position. Gabby doubted that Darby had sent Jeremy to rough her up or give her problems at school, but he would have known Jeremy had put her in hospital; he'd also have known that the boys wouldn't be too happy when they found out who and why.
Gabby knew enough about how Samcro worked to guess how the others did; someone drew first blood, for whatever reason, and the other group retaliated. If they didn't sort something out quickly, it would turn into a full-blown war.
Jeremy putting her in hospital had been the instigator, but the sons killing Jeremy was first blood. It was Darby's turn to retaliate.
Was that why the boys were so on edge?
"Don't think too much about it, Gabby," Tig told her. "You figure things out when you think, and then I get in trouble." He held out a helmet.
Gabby took it, but she didn't put it on. "Is Darby going to attack you?" she asked.
"I told you not to think about it."
"Well if it's got something to do with Jeremy, it's got something to do with me," Gabby insisted.
Tig refused to be swayed. "Drop it."
"I'll throw dolls at you."
"I'm not saying anything."
"I'll fill your house with them, I swear," Gabby threatened.
"Let's go, put your helmet on; I got places to be."
"One of Darby's men approached me yesterday."
This caught Tig's attention. He almost dropped his bike. "What do you mean, what did he say? Did he threaten you? Did he hurt you?"
"He wanted me to tell you guys to pay up, no tricks... otherwise people will die," she told him.
"Did he hurt you?"
"No," Gabby lied. She fiddled with the straps of the helmet. "Are you going to pay them? Is it the money that Jeremy owed them?"
Tig refused to meet her eyes. He had the sheepish look on his face that he had every time he did something stupid, like buy her a killer hamster, or chase a feral dog across a busy highway. In that moment, she knew. They weren't going to pay Darby. They weren't even going to try and reason with him; they were going to do something immensely stupid, potentially life-threatening, and that would most definitely be the start of a bloody feud.
"What are you guys doing?" Gabby asked.
Seizing the helmet from her, Tig forced it on her head, clipped it up and yanked her onto the back of his bike. "I told you nothing, alright? Nothing."
"But this is all my fault!" Gabby insisted, but her words were lost on the wind as Tig screamed through the streets.
When he pulled up in front of Bobby's, he hadn't even stopped as Gabby leapt off the back and bolted into the house, pulling the helmet off. Bobby was sitting at the table, drinking a beer.
"Ah, Gabby..."
She cut him off.
"Don't go to war with Darby, Bobby, it's stupid. Jeremy was my fault; just pay Darby the money and forget about it all!"
"I..."
"Tig told me you guys were planning something and-"
"Now that is a lie." Tig, who'd followed Gabby in, stepped forward. "I didn't say nothing. She guessed all this shit herself, and I am innocent of anything she says I did." He considered this for a moment before adding, "Well, I may have mentioned Jeremy, but that was an accident."
Bobby stared evenly at Gabby. "What's going onto between the Sons of Anarchy and Darby is club business. It's got nothing to do with you."
"But..."
"No buts, Gabby. You mind your own business. We took a vote, made a decision, and we're going to stick with it. Don't you worry."
Gabby's eyes were brimming with tears. He didn't understand; none of them did. This was all because of her, because of Jeremy. If any of them died or were hurt, it would be her fault. If they were thrown in jail, it was on her.
"You can't seriously think this is a good idea," she pressed.
Bobby narrowed his eyes slightly. "It doesn't matter; club decision. You should have come to me, not him." Tig scowled.
Gabby ignored the last part. Bobby would have given nothing away. "And if someone dies?"
"No one's going to die," Tig promised.
"But if they do?"
"We all know the risks, Gabby; we're ready."
Gabby glared from one to the other. "I guess my father was ready when he died. And my mother, too!" She couldn't help the tears as they spilled down her cheeks. "But I wasn't, and I'm still not."
She left them standing there as she fled to her room, slamming the door behind her and collapsing against it. She hated the club, hated what they did. When did it ever stop? The death, the worry? When did any of it stop?
A small voice in the back of her head spoke up. It will never stop.
At work the next day, something happened that Gabby wasn't expecting; Lucy visited.
She was still upset about the boy's plans, and teeming from her and Lucy's argument, so she didn't take to kindly when Lucy made a beeline straight for her.
"Can I talk to you?" Lucy asked.
"I'm busy."
Lucy snorted. "No, you're not."
Gabby placed the tray she was holding on a table. "I'm not going to apologise, if that's what you want."
She was being stubborn, she knew, but she couldn't bring herself to say sorry. In truth, Gabby was pro-abortion, always had been. The only reason she was thinking any differently was because of her own situation. Well, that and the fact that Lucy was saying not a year before that she'd have a child on the spot if she could. She refused to believe Lucy didn't want this child. Cole was probably the one pulling the strings of it.
"I don't want an apology," Lucy said with a shrug.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to come with me."
Gabby raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you get Cole to go with you?" she asked bitterly.
"He doesn't want to come. I mean, he'll get into a lot of trouble if he's found out."
"And so will you. Why don't you keep it? You've always wanted a kid. What changed your mind?"
Lucy sighed, her eyes darting around. "Just... not yet. I mean Cole isn't ready. It wouldn't be fair on him."
"Do you want to get rid of it?" Gabby asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Want do you mean? Of course I do," Lucy snapped. Gabby caught a slight hint of hesitation in her voice.
Picking up her tray, Gabby turned to head into the kitchens. "I'll come with you, when you've really made up your mind."
Jocelyn made an appearance, shooting off questions to Lucy as though she'd had them already planned in her mind. Gabby left them to it, as she noticed Filip pulling up out front. Bobby had probably told him about her meltdown. He did look rather concerned as he approached her.
"Can I help you?" Gabby asked him, her expression flat.
Filip seemed amused by this, and he grinned. "Aw, don't give me tha' look, lass." He ruffled her hair, placing a kiss on her forehead.
"Let me guess," Gabby began. "You talked to Bobby..."
Filip continued on from there. "...and he said ye were borderin' on a nervous breakdown last night. He also said ye seem to think all this club shite is your fault."
"Think? I don't think; I know. If something happens to any of you it'll be on me."
"Oh, really? So ye asked Jeremy to stab ye, did ye?"
Gabby blinked. "Well, no, but..."
"And ye asked us to go deal with him, right?"
"If I hadn't told you it was him..."
"Then he'd still be out there, causin' more trouble. Don't worry about us; we'll be fine," Filip promised. He brushed a piece of hair behind her ear before frowned. "Wha' did ye do there?" he asked, prodding a tender part of her forehead.
Gabby recoiled. "Ow." She batted his hand away. Her forehead must have bruised when the man had pushed her to the ground the other day. "Hit the corner of a cupboard," she lied.
Filip snorted. "Well, at least ye did a good job o' it. Wha' time do ye finish?"
"Soon," Gabby said.
"Right, well I'll be back to pick ye up 'soon'," he drawled. "Gotta meet with the boys." He kissed her again, before leaving.
Gabby stared after him. If he was meeting with the boys, it probably meant they were planning their attack. She chewed her lip nervously, ignoring the ache in her that wanted to disappear with Filip, away from the club, the violence and the memories. It was a stupid kind of yearning though; she knew Filip would never leave the club and, as much as she wanted to, knew she never would either.
"Chibs, what have we got?"
Filip unrolled a map of Oakland. Every so often there was a pencilled in circle, or a cross, or a circle with a cross. This map had obviously been around long before him. He pointed out a few of the circles, ones he'd added himself. "Darby's got a few 'legitimate' warehouses tha' might be worth checkin' out. He's got a large storage warehouse here, for everyday storage and shite. I had Juice check it out-" at the sound of his name, the prospect beamed; Clay scowled. "-and it seems to be legitimate enough tha' if we do blow it up, a lot of people are gunna be pissed. I'd say this one's our best bet." He pointed to a circle near the edge of the map.
"Frank's Plumbing and Sewerage Warehouse?" Tig asked, looking at it.
Filip nodded. Not the most hygienic option, but the best by far. It was away from eyes and ears – probably not noses – and it made a lot of money. If there was ever a place for drugs, it was where not even trained dogs could smell them. "It's the best place for him to make his shite."
"Why don't we just visit the sewers, blow them up?" Piney asked sarcastically.
Jax laughed. "At least we'll know when it's blown up; that's gunna stink."
"Wha' do ye think?" Filip asked, turning to Clay.
Clay inspected the map carefully, weighing the pros and cons. It was an easy target, but they'd have to go through Oaktown. It was probably very important to Darby, but going that far meant more chance of being caught.
A small part of him hoped the president would call another vote, and they'd instead decide to pay Darby; Gabby was right. They could die. He could die. Gabby would be heartbroken enough if any of them was killed. How much worse would it be if it was him? On top of that, she still thought the whole thing was her fault.
Dead or not, Filip couldn't bear the thought of her shouldering the blame of a death. Especially not his or one of his brother's. He almost asked Clay to call another vote, but stopped himself. Jeremy was Darby's one of Darby's men. And Darby needed to pay for what he'd done.