Chibs' words of love echoed in Aoife's ears as she dropped the cell phone back in her apron pocket. The Zobelles and their hulking friend had already crossed the polished wood floor and were mere feet from Aoife as she pasted on a fake smile. "Good morning. How may I help you?"
Zobelle's lips turned up in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I couldn't help overhearing you on the phone. I don't mean to intrude, but was that Gaelic you were speaking?"
Aoife nodded. With her accent, she couldn't lie her way out of this one. "Aye. Family phone call," she said sweetly.
"Ah, you are Irish. Now I can place the accent. Not Northern Ireland, though. More southern?" Zobelle asked.
Aoife forced her smile to remain in place as her body recoiled from the way Zobelle was prying. "I was born and raised in Galway. Would you like coffee? Tea?" she offered, attempting to steer him back on more comfortable conversational ground.
"Of course. Where are my manners? We'd like three coffees and..." Zobelle glanced into the pastry case. "I'll have one of those cherry
turnovers. Polly?"
The blonde woman spoke. "One of the cheddar and chive scones for me."
"Nothing else for me, ma'am," growled their burly companion.
While Aoife pulled the pastries from the case, Zobelle continued speaking. "I hope you will forgive any appearance of rudeness a moment ago. I have some Irish business associates, and I was just curious because your accent is different from theirs. My name is Ethan Zobelle," he introduced himself as he handed her a twenty. "This is my daughter Polly."
Seeing no other option, Aoife nodded and accepted each of their handshakes. "Aoife," she informed them.
The burly man offered his hand as well. "A.J. Weston, ma'am." She placed the coffees on the tray for them and signaled Cole that she needed his assistance.
While she was circulating with the coffee pot about twenty minutes later, Zobelle asked another question. "How long have you had this charming little shop, Miss..Aoife, was it?"
She nodded. "My aunt has had this shop here for a long time. I've only taken over in the last year."
"I'm opening a shop just further down the street. Impeccable Smokes." He pulled a business card and coupon from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "If you know anyone who is a cigar smoker…"
"'Fraid I don't, Mr. Zobelle," Aoife lied as politely as she could muster.
"We fellow entrepreneurs may find that we have common interests. Tell me, do you have any issues with this motorcycle club in Charming?"
Aoife raised an eyebrow at him and faked surprise. "What an odd question. The Sons have never given me any trouble. Most of them are pretty good customers. I guess even bikers like their coffee and muffins." At that moment, another customer waved at her, and she was able to excuse herself to refill his coffee.
Approximately 30 minutes later, the bell over the door alerted her to more customers, and she looked up from the case she was cleaning to see Juice and Tig. The bikers strode to the counter. "Heya, doll," Tig greeted her without his usual enthusiasm. Aoife stayed behind the counter instead of coming around to accept the boys' customary kisses on the cheek. Tig raised a wild eyebrow at her.
"Nice to see the two of you. What would you boys like?" Aoife asked, tilting her head slightly in the direction of the Zobelle's table to alert Tig and Juice. She noticed that Zobelle's eyes had narrowed to slits. Tig and Juice glared daggers right back.
"A piece of that guy," Tig growled under his breath.
"You start shit in my shop and I'll kick your ass, Tiggy," she retorted.
"Oooo, where do I sign up?" He asked with a lecherous grin.
Aoife gave him a syrupy-sweet smile. "I'll let Chibs answer that question for you. Hey, he told me you guys were at the hospital. How's Gemma?"
Tig frowned and shook his head. "Don't know yet. We're here to pick up some chow to take back to the guys. Gem's still with Tara."
Aoife stuffed two takeout bags with muffins, plastic knives, napkins, and butter. "You boys take care of Gemma. Chibs'll keep me updated."
Aoife spotted Chief Unser in the hospital hallway and rushed to catch up to him. As he stopped suddenly to knock on the door of an examining room, Aoife's new shoes slid on the smooth floor, and she slammed into the Chief's back. She righted herself and him amid his cries of "shit," and hers of "oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"A thousand pardons, Chief," she began to apologize, but then the door was pulled violently open and Tara's face appeared.
"What is going on out here?" the doctor demanded.
"Just a little slip," Unser explained at the same time that Aoife asked,
"Is Gem in there?"
Gemma's voice cut through the noise. "Who the hell is it now?"
"It's me and Aoife," Unser whispered loudly.
"Oh, just get them in here," Gemma sighed. She sat slumped in a chair. Her right hand covered her face. Several of her painstakingly painted fingernails were jaggedly ripped and broken. "What is it, Wayne?"
"I was just coming by to check on you. Then I ran into Miss McIntyre here. Or rather she ran into me. You doing okay, Gemma?"
"Yeah, Wayne," Gemma replied, without looking up.
"I'm sorry about," Gemma's head snapped up and Wayne stopped speaking.
"I think you've done enough damage today. Just go. I'll talk to you later." Unser nervously let himself back out through the door. "Aoife," Gemma sighed.
"Gemma." Aoife sat in the chair next to Gemma's and gently touched the older woman's shoulder. "Chibs let me know about the accident. I didn't mean to barge in. I saw the Chief and knew that if anyone knew exactly where you were, it would be him." The Samcro Queen didn't move. "I was worried about you, Gemma." At those last words, Gemma turned to Aoife, and Aoife was surprised to see the woman's eyes glistening.
"Thanks, baby girl." Gemma whispered.
Tara cleared her throat. "I'm going to go get samples so we can get you started on the prescriptions right away." Gemma nodded. Shifting in her seat, Gemma put her hand on the arm of the chair, and Aoife covered it with her own. When Tara let herself back in, the two had not moved. "Ok, here we are." Tara laid out the samples in a row on the counter next to the sink and then leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring down Aoife.
"I need to use the bathroom," Gemma announced. Aoife helped her stand, and then Tara took over, assisting Gemma in hobbling her way to the en suite restroom. Still standing, Aoife glanced over at the medication samples and prescriptions and leaned against the counter, her arms crossed in a mirror of the position Tara took against the wall.
"So, did Clay and Jax buy your line of bullshit?" Aoife asked, keeping her voice light.
Tara's expression turned to stone. Only a slight widening of her cat-like eyes hinted that Aoife had hit home. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"If Gemma's injuries are from a car accident, I'll eat my hat."
"Gemma's injuries are from a car accident, Miss McIntyre. I am the physician here; I think I know an accident victim when I treat one."
Aoife's Irish temper flared, and she crossed the exam room. "I think you're forgettin' that I spent three years married to a doctor, workin' as a nurse right by his side. I've nursed car accident victims. I saw that car." Her accent thickened with every word, and she stabbed the air with her finger to make her point. "This is no car accident. Not with those injuries, and not with those prescriptions. Somebody hurt her!"
Tara blinked and tried to step backward, but she was already against the wall. Eyes blazing, Aoife stared Jax's girlfriend down.
"That's enough." Gemma said from the bathroom door. She took shaky steps back to the chair and collapsed. "You're right, Aoife. But you can't say a word to anyone. Not to Clay. Not to Jax. Not to Chibs."
Aoife dropped her arms to her side, her fists clenched in anger and her expression dumbfounded. She finally found her voice to ask, "Why the hell not?"
"Because they did it to hurt the Club. To hurt the boys. What do you think the Club would do if they found out someone hurt me?"
Aoife thought back to the night of the arson, and to Chibs coming to the clubhouse in clothing stained red with blood. She heard his vicious, protective growl, proclaiming that he would decapitate anyone who dared harm her. "They'd go after them with everything they have."
"Exactly," Gemma nodded sadly. "The bastards who did this to me wanted me to tell Clay about it. They gave me a 'message' for him. They're trying to provoke a confrontation, which means that it's a trap. I can't let them do that to my boys. Our boys. Our family." Gemma looked Tara and then Aoife in the eyes in turn. "So that's why you can't say a word to anyone. No one, Aoife. You gotta promise me."
Aoife deflated, her eyes burning with tears at what Gemma was sacrificing. "I promise."
"Tara's going to get me home. You go on, honey." Aoife's hand was on the door when Gemma spoke again. "You be careful out there, baby girl. I don't want this to happen to anyone else."
"You, too, Gem. And you, doc."