It was late morning. Very late morning. The club house was a sodden and chaotic mess of brothers, bitches, and bottles. A good party. Tig's head was pounding, and he couldn't remember parts of the night before. He did, however, clearly remember thoroughly fucking Anne. Or, if he were honest, being thoroughly fucked by Anne. He smiled in spite of the headache.
Tig's one and only goal was coffee. He could smell it brewing, which meant that Gemma or one of the other old ladies was already restoring order. In fact, as he turned the corner, he saw Gemma in the kitchen. He also saw Anne, which he hadn't expected. Her back was to him, and oddly, she seemed relaxed. She leaned against the wall facing Gemma, a mug of coffee in one hand and her long hair free over her shoulders. Her figure, which he now could say that he knew very well was curvy in all the right places, was hidden under Jax's shirt.
For the first time, he heard Anne's sincere laugh. He felt relief that she wasn't upset, and that Gemma wasn't baring her claws yet. Likely, she was deliberately doing her part to keep Anne from kicking up too much of a fuss about sticking with Sam Crow.
At that moment, Gemma's eyes slid past Anne and locked on his. Her smile was poisonously sweet. Tig winced, but approached. "Mornin' Gem, Anne."
Tig poured himself coffee before he looked at Anne. He wasn't sure what would be worse—her acting as if they were in a relationship, or her looking remorseful about the night before. Her brief gaze was calm but expressionless before she looked down at her own coffee, as if he wasn't very interesting.
He remembered her words from the night before; All I'm asking from you is this, right now.
Well, she'd gotten what she wanted and so had he. No harm, no foul. He wondered if it was a one-shot deal, or if she'd be game for another round. Or three. Then he wondered if she'd be just as willing to screw Half-Sack. He left the kitchen to the women and went to commandeer a pack of cigarettes from Juice, who was snoring under the table, and oblivious to the theft.
When the rest of the brothers scattered around the clubhouse began to stir, Anne's voice grew quiet. Tig watched her retreat back to Jax's apartment, quietly and precisely picking her way through the wreckage. She seemed utterly unfazed by the mess, but picked a path that kept her out of arms reach of any men.
"She still looks scared." Kip said. He pulled up a chair and sat next to Tig. The young man looked tired and hung-over. There were lipstick marks all over his neck.
"It's just another room full of strangers for her." Tig said. "You want to rescue that damsel in distress?"
Kip laughed, then realized what Tig meant. Half-Sack smiled in that guileless way that drove usually made Tig want to slap him. "I think I would have died in there without her. It's kind of hard to look her in the eye right now."
"Yeah?" Tig had never been the kind of brother who you went to for emotional shit. He was the brother who broke skulls and shot things. However, he was the only brother who'd heard the screaming inside the Nord warehouse.
"On that last day, when they were shit-kicking me, she mouthed off the Nords. Pissed them off so badly they went for her instead."
Tig nodded, remembering how they'd thrown her into his cell, bleeding and laughing. "That's when she stole the cell. She knew what she was doing."
Half-Sack's face twisted with self-hatred for a moment, then smoothed out into a chill expression that looked unnatural on his pretty-boy features. There were things Kip wasn't ready to talk about. "She was brave. But I couldn't protect her at all."
Tig stared down at his mug. "She said they tortured you."
"Yeah. It…" Kip's voice broke. He took a breath and continued. "It was bad. Then after, Anne would come. She talked me down when I was freaking out. She just… held onto me. Then they'd take her away."
"Yeah. You had it rougher than I did."
Half-Sack chewed at his lip like he was thinking of saying more, then shrugged. "We owe her."
"I know that."
"I just see the way you look at her, y'know?" Half-Sack said, his eyes meeting Tig's with an unexpected strength.
"Look at her like what, prospect?" Tig leaned back.
"When we were in there, she asked was if she was safe with you." Half-Sack said, after a long silence of locked eyes. Kip wasn't quite a wolf yet, but he wasn't a puppy anymore either.
"And you told her?"
"To trust you." Half-Sack regarded Tig with eyes that were much older than they'd been two weeks prior. "Don't make me a liar."
***
"Clay, you've got to come see this." Juice said, looking up from his laptop with a profoundly worried expression.
"Yeah?"
"Anne's information just came in."
Chibs and Opie exchanged looks. Clay went to look over Juice's shoulder at the computer monitor. After a moment, the president covered his eyes with one hand and said, "shit."
"What didja find?" Tig asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
"She was tricky to find. I had to get the Vancouver chapter to help me out. But it got real interesting real fast." Juice spoke quickly, his hands tapping nervously at the edge of the table. "She's Canadian now, but before she moved to Calgary and married some canuck, she was a New Yorker. And here's the kicker... Anne is her middle name. Her full maiden name is April Annika Stahl. Younger half-sister to our dear friend Agent June Stahl."
Opie's eyes bored into Tig's. Clay looked rattled, "Okay, shit. Shit. Shit. What else do we know?"
"There's not much to find. The police came in on a domestic dispute case with her ex-husband three years ago, and she's got a downright irresponsible number of speeding tickets. Otherwise, no dirt. Her work reported her missing from Calgary on May 15th."
"Is she a teacher?"
"Nope. Counsellor. She works with troubled youth. Maybe she could set Half-Sack back on the straight and narrow."
Tig rubbed his temple and mentally compared Anne to Agent Stahl. There was little resemblance between the two, except for both of them having more balls than any woman ought to have.
"So what does this mean?" Jax asked. "Agent Stahl booked outta here after Darby went behind bars. If she knew her sister was here, wouldn't she be tearing Southern California apart?"
"When Anne got the phone, she let me call you. She didn't call ATF, the police, or her bitch of a sister." Tig said. He looked around at his brothers, and realized that Opie was gone.
Tig cursed and ran for Jax's apartment. The door was open, and found Opie in Anne's bedroom, their eyes locked in some silent communication. Opie was gazing down at her with an expression of wrath frozen on his face, as if trying to stare down Agent Stahl through Anne's impenetrable green stare. Anne was sitting on the edge of the bed, fists clenched in the sheets but meeting his anger without cowering.
"Easy, brother. She didn't pick her family." Tig eased into the room, intending to get between the two of them. He knew how badly this could go—he was as tied into Opie's grief as Agent Stahl was.
Opie reached out, which made Tig very nervous, but only touched the bruises at Anne's neck. "Donna got killed because she was my wife. This girl went through hell because she was Stahl's sister. How is that fair?"
Tig swallowed guilt and stayed silent.
"You know what your sister did to us, little girl?" Opie asked.
"No."
"Does she know where you've been?"
She shook her head. "Doubt it."
"What were you doing in Lodi?"
Her eyes moved to Clay. "I was thrown in a van on my way home from work. They drove all day, all night. I didn't even know I was in California at first."
Opie's hand lingered near Anne's throat, and now he encircled her throat with one large hand. Tig started forward, but Anne was still breathing easily, so he put his hand on Opie's shoulder.
Opie ignored him, eyes locked on Anne's. "Tell me the truth."
Anne's green gaze narrowed. Her voice betrayed her with a quaver, but her words were clear and angry, "Truth? Fine. One of my kids got mixed up with white supremacists. They were pulling him in, and I was trying to push him out of it. Then his brother found out I had ties to an ATF agent, and he gave me over to the Nords."
Her hands came up and she wrapped them around Opie's wrist. He loomed over her, close enough that their legs almost touched, but she stood, pushing him back. He gave ground. Anne looked very small next to Opie. She pushed his hand from her throat.
"I was traded to the Lodi Nords for a shipment of meth. They put a chain around my neck and called me their pet whore." She turned her stare back to Clay. "Connor wanted me at his feet when June came back. So there's your truth. If you've got shit with June, take it up with her. I haven't even spoken to her in five years."
"Ope, Chibs, get out of here." Clay jerked his head at Opie, who dropped his eyes and left the room quickly. Chibs followed at a slower pace. Juice, in the hallway, left with them.
Anne took a deep breath and looked at Tig, eyes dark with mistrust. She took a small step away from him and Clay, who just shook his head.
"I don't even know what to say, kid. I haven't forgotten what you did for us, but your sister..." Clay trailed off. He placed a hand on Tig's shoulder. "We need to think. I'm not letting her go to get killed, but hanging on to an ATF's kid sister is bad business."
Clay gave Tig a loaded look, then left the room. Alone, Tig started at Anne. At April.
"April Stahl, huh." Tig said after a long moment of tense silence.
She cast him a withering look.
"Anything you should be telling me?" He asked.
"No, why would there be? June works for ATF. I don't."
Tig stared her down, looking for some flinch, a tell, anything to indicate a lie. All he saw was anger. She stared right back.
"Okay, look, I get it. My bitch cop of a sister screwed you and everyone else. Now your club wants collateral, same as the Nords. I get it."
"Aw, c'mon. It's not like that."
"What, you think it's different because it's you? Or maybe you think I owe you this because you dragged me out of there?"
"I'm starting to see the family resemblance, kid."
She looked at the door as if considering pushing past him, but her eyes settled on him, icy and joyless. "Don't expect me to be happy about trading cages."
She turned her back on him, arms firmly crossed and shoulders tense as if she half expected him to seize her. Tig rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a breath. He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her upper arms, running his palms up to her shoulders.
"I get that you're scared." She did not pull away, but did not relax, either. Tig breathed her scent and vividly remembered her naked beneath him. He swallowed. "The Sons aren't like the Nords, and Kip would walk through fire for you. No one is going to lay a hand on you. You're safe. You've got the protection of a whole MC around you, if you can see it that way."
When she didn't respond, he released her, and left the room. After closing the door, he exchanged a look with Happy, who was cleaning his gun in the hallway. As he walked away, he thought he heard a stifled sob from Anne's room. He hated that he cared.