Thanks for sticking with me, you guys. I'm on a bit of a roll now. :)

and the moon is splashed right over the street
like my tears on your thighs so pale
it's just you and me in the sheets
and the whole wide world feel like a jail
when you're away from me
David Gray, "The Light"

It was a two hour drive from Islamorda to Miami, a six hour flight to San Francisco, and another two plus hours to Charming. By the time they finally crossed the Charming town line both women were exhausted and ready to sleep for a year. Their tiredness was compounded by a general lack of sleep from the night before, but neither of them complained about that.

Olivia turned the corner onto Tara's street and slowed down. "Who's that?" she said with a nod toward the car in Tara's driveway.

Tara said nothing, and when Olivia glanced at her, her face was hard and set, her eyes furious.

"Kohn?" Olivia said. "Seriously? I thought Hale sent him back to Chicago!"

"I guess not," Tara said through gritted teeth.

"Okay." Olivia fished her phone from her purse. "We call him now. We go to my place and let Hale deal with him."

"No." Tara grabbed her hand before she could dial. "No, that won't help anything. I need to handle this myself. He needs to know I'm not afraid to stand up to him and that he can't get away with pushing me around anymore."

"Tara—"

She squeezed Olivia's wrist and gave her an imploring look. "Please, Ollie. I have to do this."

Olivia chewed on her lip, but at last she nodded. "Fine. But you're not going in there alone."

Tara hesitated a moment before she relented. "Let me do the talking."

"That's fine. I'm just here for backup."

Olivia parked along the street and helped Tara with her luggage. Kohn's car was empty, and there was a light on in the house. "Motherfucker's makin' himself right at home," Olivia said.

Tara left her suitcases on the porch and let them into the house; dropped her purse on the table by the door and cast Kohn a bored look. He rose from the couch the moment he heard the door, and his face fell into lines of consternation when he saw Olivia come in behind Tara.

"Tara. There you are! I was worried. Where have you been?"

"Vacation. You need to leave," she said, shortly.

He frowned over Tara's shoulder at Olivia. "I was hoping we could talk alone, sweetheart. I'm afraid your friend might have the wrong idea about me. Might be influencing you against me."

Tara snorted and shook her head. "I don't need Ollie for that, asshole. Leave, or I call the cops."

"Who? That puffed-up wannabe? Thinks he's cock on the wall because he's the deputy chief in some hick backwater. He doesn't really scare me."

Olivia ducked her head to hide her smile at the rather accurate description of David Hale. "Cock on the wall or not," she said, "he still has a badge, and this hick backwater is still his town. You don't have any jurisdiction here, and you broke into Tara's house."

He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Tara, honey, would you please send your friend away? I want to talk to you. Just us. I want to talk about our baby. I told you before I wasn't mad—"

"It wasn't our baby!" Tara said, some of her control snapping. "It was a clump of cells in my body. And if you think I would ever want to make a child with you—" She broke off and turned her head away. "I don't have anything else to say to you."

Kohn tried to follow her as she headed for the kitchen, but Olivia cut him off. "She asked you to leave. You should do that."

He leered down at her, an expression of such contempt she had to fight the urge to stumble back. "This is none of your business, little girl. Why don't you take your toys and go home? Leave the adults to their adult business."

"Olivia. He's not worth it," Tara said from the kitchen doorway. She had a tumbler in her hand and sipped at the amber-colored liquid with a grimace.

Kohn glared past Olivia like she had ceased to exist, and something about his expression put her on guard. His hands clenched into fists and his nostrils flared, just a little. Color rose on his cheeks. The tiny alarm bell that had been dinging inside Olivia's head since they pulled onto Tara's street turned into a full-on siren.

"Tara," he said, his voice condescending and soft, "what have I told you about drinking? I don't like it. It's vulgar."

"Jeff. Get it through your head. I don't give a fuck what you think. Not anymore."

He growled, low in his throat, but Tara seemed unconcerned.

"Don't do anything stupid," Olivia said. "We called the cops before we came in."

"You're bluffing," he said.

"Want to test that theory?"

He lunged at her, faster than she would've thought possible, and she tripped in her haste to get away. He went for Tara, but Olivia let out a rough cry and tackled him. He had nearly a foot in height on her, and he threw her off like a bothersome chihuahua. Her bad hip caught the doorjamb and she groaned as she rolled to the floor with a graceless crash.

"Ollie!" Tara cried. The glass fell from her hand, forgotten, and she barely noticed when it shattered. Kohn's hand closed around her throat, turning her cry into a choking gurgle.

"You stupid bitch," he said, panting. "You thought you could get away? Don't you know you're mine? I love you, Tara! I love you more than anyone ever will!"

Tara's face was turning crimson. Dark spots swirled at the edge of her vision, and the pain in her throat was like a fire. He would kill her. In her own living room. And once she was dead he'd go for Ollie. Tara tried to kick, but he dodged the feeble swings with a vicious laugh.

"Mine, Tara Grace. Always!"

There was a crash—it sounded very far away to Tara, and she thought she must be back in Florida, because she swore she could hear the ocean—and abruptly the pressure on her neck eased. She sagged to the ground, choking and coughing, and then Olivia was there. Everything moved in slow motion. She could see Olivia's lips moving, but she couldn't hear her.

What? she tried to say. Nothing happened when she opened her mouth, and the air whistled through her throat like through a straw.

"We have to go," Olivia said. "Tara, please, come on!"

She was screaming, and the desperation in her voice finally managed to trickle through Tara's confusion. Tara tried to speak again, but a coughing fit doubled her over.

"Don't talk," Olivia said. "Just—" She slipped an arm around Tara's waist and struggled to get her to her feet. They took a staggering step. Olivia stopped to brace a hand on the wall. Her face was white, and it was clear she couldn't support Tara's weight.

Behind them Kohn groaned. Tara turned her head (her neck aching) and almost smiled. He was sprawled on the floor, and the remains of the vase that had been on her side table were scattered around him. Blood trickled from his temple.

"You got him," Tara croaked.

"Yeah, I did. Now we've gotta call Hale and get the fuck out of here."

Tara grabbed her hand and together they limped-stumbled for the door. Olivia was reaching for the knob when a roar sounded behind them.

They both spun. Olivia's hip caught and she fell against the door with a pained cry. Kohn charged them, a jagged bit of glass clutched in one bleeding hand.

Some form of auto-pilot kicked in. Tara reached into her purse—just beside her, where she'd dropped it when they walked in—and her hand found the gun Gemma had given her weeks ago. She'd forgotten it was in there until this moment, and now it felt like it had been waiting for her. She raised it, calmly, and Kohn didn't slow.

She pulled the trigger.

The blast was deafening in the small space, but it did the job. He lurched back, hands clutching his middle and expression stunned.

"You bitch," he gasped. "You fuckin' shot me!"

Horrified, Tara dropped the gun and raised shaking hands to her face. What had she done? She shot him. A Fed. There was blood everywhere. Next to her, Olivia struggled to her feet and grabbed Tara's shoulder.

"I shot him!" Tara gasped.

"No shit. We have to call Hale. It was self defense."

"Stop with the cops, Ollie! The cops can't help us! I shot him!"

"Tara! He broke into your house! He attacked us! He was coming at us with that fucking glass like it was a goddamn machete!"

"You hit him with a vase!"

"After he threw me into a wall!"

"We can't call the cops. Self defense or not. You think they're gonna love the idea of you being involved in your second domestic disturbance that ended in murder? And murderers aren't exactly in demand as neonatal surgeons."

"He's not dead!" Olivia was nearly hysterical. Tears coursed down her cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice. "Tara. If we get him to a hospital—"

"No!" Tara said. She set her jaw and lifted her chin. "I'm calling Jax. Go in the kitchen; there's duct tape in the cabinet by the fridge."

Olivia stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "Tara Grace—"

"Do it, Ollie!" Her face softened, and she cupped Olivia's jaw in her hand. "Please. Just listen to me."

After a moment Olivia gave a stuttering nod, and, without another word, she limped toward the kitchen. Her gait was uneven, the pain in her leg compounded by exhaustion, and Tara watched her go with a worried frown. She shook her head and retrieved her phone before she stalked toward Kohn. He was curled on the floor groaning in pain. Blood was splattered and streaked all around him. Tara shuddered in disgust.

She crouched next to him and flipped him onto his back. Her eyes were steady on his as she hit the button for Jax' speed dial. "I need you," she said when he answered. "My house. Please hurry. And—bring Opie. Ollie's gonna need a ride home."

Olivia reappeared, duct tape in hand. Tara waved her over and together they first gagged Kohn, then wrapped tape around his ankles and wrists.

"We can't leave him in the middle of your living room," Olivia said.

Tara grimaced and grabbed him under the arms. She nodded toward his legs, and after a brief hesitation Olivia took his feet. They half carried, half dragged him into the hall closet. Tara taped a towel around his middle to absorb the blood and shut the door on his pleading face.

"The blood," Olivia said.

"I'll deal with it later."

"It'll need bleach."

"I know," Tara said. She took Olivia's hands in hers and squeezed. "We'll be okay, Ollie."

Olivia freed one hand and her fingers fluttered toward the ugly marks on Tara's throat. "You need ice." She shivered once, hard, and Tara wrapped her arms around her.

"You're going into shock," she said.

"So are you," Olivia said through chattering teeth.

"Maybe." Tara shuddered in her arms. "Maybe, yeah."

They stood locked together, shaking like a pair of leaves, until a knock at the door startled them both. "Oh God," Olivia whispered.

"Shhh, it's okay. It's probably Jax and Opie."

"Opie?!"

"You need someone to drive you home, babe. There's no way you can make it on your own." She tucked a lock of hair behind Olivia's ear. "Stay here. I'll go check."

Olivia followed anyway. She didn't want to be so close to the closet. There was blood…so much blood…and the smell of it made her sick. She closed her eyes and, vivid as though it were happening this second, she remembered the sensation of sinking the knife into TJ Flanary's back. The gunshot, the sound and smell of it. Juice's groan of pain mingling with TJ's. Blood everywhere. The carpet. The bed. Coating her hands like macabre gloves—!

Her eyes flew open with a yelp, and at Tara's concerned look she tried to muster a smile. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm okay. I'm fine."

Tara checked the peephole and glanced back at Olivia before she opened the door. Jax started inside, but stopped when the sight of them fully registered.

"What the fuck?" he said.

Tara ignored him for the moment. "Opie, take Ollie home. Don't just drop her off. Go in with her. Make sure she stays warm, and get some ice for her hip."

"What the hell happened here?" Opie said, his eyes wide as he surveyed the wrecked living room.

"Never mind that," Tara said. Her voice was strong but hoarse, and Jax stared at her in an odd combination of fury, bewilderment, and concern. "Just get Ollie home."

Opie's attention snapped to Olivia, and immediately the carnage was forgotten. She looked tiny and frail, like a wisp. Her eyes were huge and dark in her chalky face, and there was blood on her hands.

"Ollie?" he said. She didn't move or acknowledge his presence. "Olivia!"

She jerked like he'd hit her, and her eyes found his like she was returning from far far away. "Opie?"

"Okay, sweetheart," he said, his voice impossibly gentle. "Let's get you home. You look like you could use a hot bath."

Her lower lip trembled and her face creased. "Opie, I—"

"It's okay. You don't gotta say anything." He lifted her in his arms like she weighed nothing, and with a brief nod at Tara and Jax swept her outside. He had driven them in his truck, and he left it for Jax and went to her car. Got her bundled into the passenger side and walked around to the driver's side. He was fiddling with the seat when Jax appeared.

Opie checked to make sure Olivia was okay before he trotted to him. "She tell you what happened?"

Jax shook his head. "Somethin' to do with Kohn, I think. Get Ollie home and look after her. I'll take care of whatever this is."

Opie gave a quiet snort. "One thing you can say about these women: life's never dull with them around."

"No shit," Jax said. He clapped Opie on the shoulder. "I'll call you later, check in."

"Yeah, brother. Take care."

"You too."

All was quiet at Olivia's house. He'd mowed the yard once while she was gone, and the flowers nodded happily in their beds. A security light was on in the hall; it seemed to give her a start as he pushed the door open.

"It's okay," he said. "It's the lamp you left on."

"Right," she murmured. "That's right."

He took her straight to the bathroom and set her on the cool tile. She held onto him a moment before she pushed away to stand on her own. Her expression was puzzled as she looked around and realized where she was.

"Tara said to get you into a hot bath," he said. "Is that okay?" She hadn't, exactly, but it was the quickest way to get her warm.

She gave a vague nod, and he left her there while he messed with the bathtub taps. "Could you help me get undressed?" she said.

"Uh, yeah. Of course." He steadied her while she peeled her jeans off. A nasty bruise was already starting on her hip, and he winced when he saw it.

"I hit the—the jamb. The edge of the—door," she said.

He nodded silently and helped her with her t-shirt. She reached back to unclasp her bra and hissed in pain. "I got it," he said. "Just relax; I got it."

His eyes widened: there were marks on her chest, almost like—

"Olivia?"

"Tara," she said, wearily. "We slept together. Last night." She had no idea how he might react, but she was a bit too tired and shell-shocked to summon much interest.

"Oh…" he said, for lack of anything better.

She glanced up at him, a trace of wry amusement curving her mouth. "One time thing. Or, at least, one night thing. Just blowing off some steam."

"Oh," he said again. He turned away to stop the water, his cheeks burning. So she'd slept with Tara. What was the big deal? They weren't exactly together right now anyway, and she said it was just a one time thing. She wasn't leaving him for Tara, for fuck's sake.

"Opie?" she said. She touched his arm, and he cast her a look over his shoulder. She swallowed back sudden tears. "Harry, please…don't be angry. I can't—I need you, Harry. Not just right now, but—always. I want you to come back to me. Please—" She broke off as a sob choked her. "Please come back," she breathed.

"Sweetheart." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. His fingers combed through her hair and his shirt grew damp as she cried. "Baby love. I wasn't goin' anywhere. I swear, Ollie. I love you so goddamn much. I just want you to be safe."

She coughed out a laugh. "I don't need you to find trouble for me, Harry. I do that just fine on my own."

"Yeah," he said, dryly, "I noticed." He kissed her forehead. "Come on, before the water gets cold." He helped her in, and she drew in a sharp breath at the heat. Once she was settled he started to leave, but she didn't let go of his hand.

"Stay? Please?"

"Sure," he said. He lowered the lid on the toilet and sat. She worked shampoo through her hair, but when he offered to help she shook her head. He understood: she needed to feel clean, and it had to be by her own hands.

"Kohn was waiting for her when we got there," Olivia said, her voice hollow and tired.

"You don't gotta tell me about it."

"I need to," she said. "I need to tell someone."

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "Okay," he said. "I'm listenin'."

She told him the whole story, from the moment they rounded the corner onto Tara's street until he and Jax knocked on the door. She didn't spare him anything. When she described hitting the wall, he winced in sympathy. He had to fight the urge to smile when she told him about the vase.

By the time the story was done the water had long since grown cold, and she shivered a little.

"I'm not doin' a great job of keepin' you warm," he said with a frown. "Let's get you outta there."

She offered him both hands, and he pulled her out easily. Dried her like she might shatter and helped her dress for bed. She didn't want him to carry her this time, so instead he walked behind, hovering like a mother hen until she got to the bed. She crawled into it, stiff as an old woman, and he pulled the covers up over her.

"Stay here," he said, dropping a kiss onto her forehead. "I'll make you some tea and get ice for that hip."

"Thank you, Harry," she murmured. Her eyelids grew heavy even as he watched, and he thought she might be asleep by the time he got back.

"I'll be right back," he said and hurried away.

In the kitchen he put the kettle on and dropped a teabag into her favorite mug. He was in the middle of packing the ice when the fury hit him. He grappled with it, but it was too much. Too huge, a rushing tide of rage. He smashed his fist into the fridge, cursed, and applied the icepack to his own knuckles. He gripped the counter with his uninjured hand and took huge gulps of air in through his mouth.

Goddamn him. How dare that fucker put hands on his woman. Hurt her. Frighten her. If Jax didn't take care of him, Opie swore he would rip Kohn's head off with his own bare hands, Fed or not. Fuck the FBI. No one laid a hand on Olivia like that. No one.

The kettle whistled, startling him, and he shook his head to clear the red haze that coated his vision. Jax would deal with Kohn. He'd laid hands on Jax' woman too, after all—for all they hadn't been together in almost fifteen years—and he would be just as enraged as Opie.

Calmer now, he poured the hot water, packed another ice bag, and headed for the bedroom. She was awake, but barely. He set the mug on the nightstand and lifted the sheet to apply the towel-wrapped ice to her hip and thigh.

"Get in bed with me?" she said, twisting her head to look at him. "I can't really—" She blushed. "But I want…I want you here."

"Yeah, of course." He stripped down to his shorts and crawled in next to her. His arms went around her gingerly, and he was stiff and tense as he pulled her close, alert and ready to freeze at any sign of pain or distress. He'd never felt so big and clumsy as he did at that moment: she felt so fragile, tiny, and if he hurt her he'd never forgive himself.

"Relax, big guy," she said. "I'm okay."

"You're not," he growled. "You're not okay. That motherfucker—I shoulda killed him in Chicago. Should never've let him follow Tara here."

"Opie." She kissed the center of his chest, over the reaper. "That wouldn't have solved anything. You'd be in jail and I'd be here pining for you."

"Pining?" he said, trying not to grin.

"Straight up pining. Wasting away. Writing terrible poetry and long, torrid letters full of declarations of love and devotion."

"To me? In prison?"

"I considered sending them to Tom Cruise, but I got over him at age seventeen. Yes, you big dummy. To you in prison."

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "You're so mean."

"Am not. You're just very very silly." She nestled closer, fitting her head under his chin and pressing her cheek over his heart. The strong, steady beat of it seemed eternal. Opie. Her redwood. Tall and strong and always. "I love you so much," she whispered.

"I love you too. Even if you did fuck your best friend on your recent Florida vacation."

"That wasn't exactly how I meant to tell you," she said through a sigh.

There was a short silence. Then, quietly, "Were you planning to tell me?"

"Ahh…" She shifted. Winced. "Yes. Probably. I'm tired of secrets."

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

She leaned back until she could see his face. "Are you mad?"

"I…" He turned it over and over in his mind. She slept with Tara. With Tara. Her best friend since they were, what? Two? They'd already shared just about everything else. Sex just seemed like…another step along the way.

"No," he said at last. "You're not in love with her, are you?"

"Harry! No. Nothing's changed, really, except now we've licked each other's pussies."

He cleared his throat. "Oll, ya know…"

She giggled and kissed his nose. "I love you, dummy."

"I love you too, meanie."

"You're not a dummy," she said, her expression turning serious. "You know I don't really think that, right?"

"I know," he said. "You're not really mean, either."

She sighed and snuggled in again. "Sometimes I am," she said.

He disagreed, but he also knew there was no point in arguing with her. Instead he stroked her hair and closed his eyes. She was small and warm against him, and the scent of her shampoo enveloped them. It had been a month since that day in her garage, and he'd missed her almost every second of it.

"Oll. There's somethin' I gotta tell you."

She stirred from a half-doze. "Something bad?"

"No," he said. "Somethin' good. Or…I hope it's good. I think it's good."

He pulled back and her expression was apprehensive. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her, long and slow. "Baby, listen. I made a decision. I don't ever wanna let the MC come between us again. You're mine, Ollie."

Her brow furrowed and she lifted up onto her elbow. "Opie, what're you saying?"

He took a deep breath and brushed her hair off her face. "I'm gonna patch out, Olivia. I already talked to Jax about it. He's not real happy; big surprise; but he understands. I'm gonna bring it to table soon."

She studied his face for a long time, her eyes roaming over the familiar, beloved lines of it. He meant it. He really meant it.

He took her silence for disbelief and hastened to fill it. "I'd do it now, but with Jax's kid and…he asked me if I'd wait until he knows for sure Abel's out of the woods. Until he can bring Abel home. I told him I would, but if you want me to do it sooner—"

"No," she said. He made a face and she breathed out a sigh that was almost a laugh. "Wait until you're ready. A few weeks won't make or break anything."

"You sure? I'll go right now—"

"Opie." She took his head in her hands and kissed him. "Harry. Love. You really want this?"

"Yeah, Oll," he murmured against her mouth. "I do. I want you. I want you safe. I want a life together. We can't do that while I'm involved with the club. It's too dangerous." He paused and pressed his forehead against hers. "Jax tried to talk me out of it. Told me he wants to take the club in a different direction. Go legit."

Olivia frowned. "What about Clay?"

"That was my argument. Yeah, Jax is in line to be the next president, but Clay's got a few years left in him. His arthritis ain't great, and once it gets too bad he won't be able to ride. But who knows how long that'll be? I don't wanna wait.

"I'm done, Oll," he said. "I'm makin' a choice, and I choose you. We can go wherever you want. Leave Charming. Go to New York, or somewhere else back east so you can be closer to your dad. Anything you want, just as long as you take me with you."

She was stunned, like he'd hit her over the head. Leaving the MC. "Kiss me, Harry," she said, her voice rough. "Don't stop kissing me."

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am. Whatever you want." He pulled her in close and kissed her nose. Her cheeks. Her jaw. She giggled when he blew a raspberry against her neck.

"Opie!"

"You said to kiss you. You didn't specify how."

"Hhhmm. I have a few other ideas, but they might have to wait until I'm a little less bruised and battered."

"Don't worry, baby love," he said. "We got forever."

Honestly, y'all.

I kinda hope Jax decides to follow Opie out. I guess we'll see.

And what about our dear Juicykins?! Hhmm. Tune in next time for more!