A/N: I do not own anything about Sons of Anarchy. It belongs completely to Kurt Sutter, and I am just so glad to be allowed to play in the wonderful world he created.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Charlie woke up to someone ringing the doorbell constantly. With a growl, she rolled out of bed, jerked open her bedroom door, and stomped down the hallway.
She heard a thump come from the back of the house and yelled, "Go back to bed, Chibs! I got it." She heard another thump and a moan, and she let out a little giggle before putting the scowl back on her face to open the door. Charlie unlocked the deadbolt, undid the security chain, and then opened the door with a growled, "What?"
"Sorry, sweetheart, but we need to talk." Gemma pushed her way into the house and sat herself down at the kitchen table, lighting a cigarette.
"Come on in." Charlie mumbled as she closed and locked the door. She secured the chain before turning around and heading to the coffee pot. "So what's this about?"
"That ATF gash has been threatening the women that are connected with the club. Donna, Tara, and I know that she spoke with you in the grocery store." Charlie shot a glance in Gemma's direction, and the woman shrugged. "Juice mentioned it."
Charlie rolled her eyes and pulled down two mugs as the coffee began to brew. "Gemma, you know as well as I do that I would never to the club in jeopardy. Especially after everything with Tully, and –"
Gemma held up her hand. "I – I'm not worried about that, sweetheart. What I'm worried about is the bitch going after your job at the school. It's almost time for you to start work there, and between your involvement with Tully and being an associate of the Sons, who knows what this bitch could dig up."
Charlie shrugged her shoulder, poured two cups of coffee, and took them over to the table. She returned to the kitchen for milk and sugar, then sat down and began preparing her cup while Gemma put some sugar in her cup.
"If I lose my job, I lose my job. I've still got steady work at the bar, and I've got a pretty good nest egg if I need to find something else."
Gemma smirked and shook her head slightly. "That's not really what I'm worried about either. I'm worried about you losing your temper. This ATF bitch… there are a lot of reasons that you'd have to lose your temper with her, and we cannot handle you going to jail for assaulting a fed." As an afterthought, she added, "Or murdering one."
Charlie stared into her coffee, swirling the cup in her hand. "You know I want to put a bullet in between her eyes."
"I do, but I –"
"You also know that I want to put one in Clay and Tig, too." Charlie looked up and locked eyes with Gemma, who met her gaze with ferocity.
"And you know that only one of those three are likely to die."
Charlie went back to staring into her coffee and sighed. "That's not what you wanted to discuss, so let's just leave that for another time. I got your point about the fed; keep my cool." Charlie stood up and carried her coffee cup to the sink, pouring it out before turning back to Gemma, who put out her cigarette and stood up. "Anything else?"
"No, that's all." Gemma said, and she made her way to the front door. She unlocked it, undid the security chain, and opened the door before pausing and turning back to look at Charlie, who had followed her to the door. "Just… be careful, sweetheart. With everything. Love you."
Charlie nodded, and forced a smile. "Love you too."
Charlie closed and locked the door behind Gemma, and when she turned around, she found Chibs propped up against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale, but the look he gave her was fierce.
"Shit." Charlie grunted, rolling her eyes. "You look like motherfucking hell, dude."
"Aye." Chibs growled, nodding. "Ye wanna tell me about tha conversation ye and Gemma jus' had?"
"There's coffee in the kitchen." Charlie said as she walked past him. Chibs held out his hand, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her. Charlie sighed and looked over at him. "How much did you hear?"
"All of it." Chibs said, staring her down.
"Yeah, well, you keep secrets about club business, and I keep secrets about my business. You'll know when it's time." Charlie said with sincerity.
Chibs grunted and they both headed towards the kitchen.
"So ye fucked Happy in the bathroom last night, did ye?"
After Charlie nursed Chibs through his hangover and sent him to the garage, she showered and got dressed to run some errands. She was tucking her Makarov in the back of her jeans when she heard knocking on the front door again.
"When did this place turn into a fucking train station?" She growled as she stomped to the front door, undid the locks and security chain, then yanked the door open. "Oh, Jesus Christ."
Tully was standing in the doorway, leant against the doorjamb with a smirk on his face. "Hey, pet. Did you miss me?" He pushed past her and sat down on the couch, patting the spot beside him.
"When did people stop asking if it's okay to come inside?" Charlie growled, slamming the door shut and walking over to stand in front of Tully with her arms crossed. "What do you want?"
"You didn't think that I was going to give you up that easily, did you, pet?" Tully asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Yes, actually, I did. It's been over two weeks; haven't you found someone else to play with?"
"I've had plenty of options. But you, pet…" Tully shook his head once and clenched his jaw. "You're something else."
Charlie scoffed and rolled her eyes, shifting on her feet. "Don't give me that bullshit 'you're special' crap, Tully. You just like being in control, and I'm convenient. It's like I told you the other week, though; I'm done."
Tully was on his feet and had Charlie by the throat before she could blink. The pressure that he was applying was not endearing in the least bit, and he had a look in his eyes that Charlie had only seen a couple of times, usually after he'd done a job for the Brotherhood. With his other hand, he reached around behind her back, grabbed her Makarov, and threw it onto the couch.
"I don't care that you're done, pet. I don't care if you're fucking the Scot or the hit man. You're mine; you've always been mine, and you'll always be mine." Tully squeezed harder and black spots started to mar Charlie's vision. She grabbed at his hand with one hand and gouged at his face with the other, but her strength was waning fast. And as quickly as Tully had ahold of Charlie's neck, he let her go. She stumbled back into the recliner and sat down, coughing and gasping for air. Tully stepped up in front of her and grabbed the hair on back of her head, jerking it so that she was looking up at him.
"Don't you ever forget who you belong to." Tully growled, and then he released her head.
Charlie had her breathing almost under control and as blood and oxygen began to reenter her brain, she started to get angry. She clenched her fists, bowed her head, and launched her body upwards so that the top of her head slammed into Tully's face. She had force and the element of surprise on her side, but it still hurt like a bitch.
"You bitch!" Tully yelled as blood sprayed out of his nose and he staggered backwards a few steps.
Charlie scrambled over to the couch and grabbed her Makarov, turning off the safety and chambering a round. She stood up and pointed the gun at Tully, who was blinking his vision clear.
"Get out, Tully. Now." Charlie said, and her voice was surprisingly steady.
"I'm going to-" Tully growled, stepping towards her, but he stopped when Charlie aimed and fired a round off to the side of his head.
"The only thing you're going to do, is leave." Charlie said as she settled her aim on his head. "Or I'm going to make the Brotherhood need a new shot caller in northern California."
Tully wiped away some of the blood that was sliding down his face as he walked towards the front door and jerked it open. "You'll regret this." He said quietly, and then he walked down the front steps and to his Mustang. Charlie rushed to the door and closed it, locking and securing the security chain before heading to the house phone and picking it up.
She dialed the number to the garage and Half-Sack answered. "Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair."
"Half-Sack, it's Charlie. I need my brother. And Jax." Her voice started to shake. "You know what, you should probably just send everyone. I think I might have fucked us all over."
Charlie paced back and forth in the living room as she waited for the club to show up. She was lighting a new cigarette off of an old one when she heard the roar of multiple motorcycles coming down the road. She stepped to the front door and unlocked everything before opening the door and stepping outside. Opie was the first one off his bike and heading towards her.
"Are you hurt? What's wrong?" He demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her up and down. His eyes focused on her neck, which was red with Tully's handprints. "Your neck."
"Tully stopped by…" Charlie began, and she scanned the faces of Bobby, Jax, Chibs, and Happy before focusing on her boots. "He was… uh, confused about my sincerity the other week. He choked me and tried to stake his claim, I broke his nose and threatened to kill him."
There was silence, and Charlie added, "Oh, Chibs… there's a bullet in your wall by the front window. I had to show Tully that I was serious."
"Stake his claim?" Jax said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. And I had to show him that I really wasn't interested." Charlie said nonchalantly.
"By shooting at him and breaking his nose?" Jax repeated.
"Yes. Look, I thought you should know because this could affect the club." Charlie paused for a minute and bit her lip slightly. "And, uh, I think that Chibs should take the rest of the day off. You know, he's sick… and stuff."
Charlie turned on her heel and headed back inside the house, leaving the door open behind her. She couldn't openly admit to them that she was scared that Tully would come back, but she knew that they got the message that she didn't want to be alone until they figured out what to do with him and the Brotherhood. She went to the kitchen and pulled out a beer even though it was barely noon, and she was taking a long sip when she heard the front door close.
"History channel, Chibs?" Charlie asked as she rounded the corner into the living room. She stopped short at who was sprawled out on the couch with the remote in his hand.
"I don't like the history channel. I watch cartoons." Happy said, glancing over at her.
Charlie rolled her eyes and said, "Of course you do."