This chapter was a bear! I've been writing it since I finished chapter 34 and only just now finished it. I'm hoping it'll go a bit easier from here on out, but some kind words certainly wouldn't hurt. :)

and the next thing you know
everything goes to hell
like my mind when i see you in the chapel light
try as i may try as i might
this thing comes and takes over me
like the night upon the sea
like thunder crashing down from above
like love; like love
Bob Schneider, "Slower Dear"

A few hours later Eli came in to kick Juice out. "Sorry, man. I gotta get home, and I can't let you stay."

"It's okay," Olivia said. "Go back to the clubhouse," she said to Juice. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" His face was scrunched, his voice troubled, and she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Go. And tell Jax he has nothing to worry about."

He kissed her through the bars and pushed himself to his feet. He paused in front of Eli and held out a hand. The sheriff looked down at it a moment before he shook. "Thanks, man," Juice said. "Thanks for looking out for her."

"Yeah, well. I don't like bullies."

Juice nodded and cast one last look over his shoulder. Olivia smiled at him. He smiled back, and their eyes locked and held for several moments before he turned to go.

She still sat on the floor of her cell. Eli peered down at her. "You gonna sleep on the floor?" he said.

She grimaced. "Um. Not sure I can get up, actually."

He lifted a brow.

"Quit looking at me like that and help me."

He unlocked the door and offered her both hands. Pulled her to her feet and caught her as she staggered. He helped her limp over to the bench and gently lowered her down. "Jesus, Olivia. He do this to you, too?"

"For once, no. I was knocked around pretty bad in a wreck when I was a kid." She patted her hip. "I'm all full of plates and screws. Sat on the cold floor too long and got stiff."

She shifted her weight in an attempt to get comfortable, but the hard, narrow bench wasn't doing her any favors.

"Haven't seen our friend the Marshal recently. The club's plan working?"

Eli hitched a shoulder and leaned against the bars. "I don't know yet. I got Jax in to see Clay, and I guess the rest is up to him."

"Hum," she said. "Any word from the DA?"

"Haven't heard anything. Toric's not gonna hand over that file until he's sure he can't get what he wants from you."

"What if he thinks Clay will flip? Think he might then, since he won't need me?"

"I don't know. It's a risk."

"I'd feel a lot better if it weren't a risk that involved my life."

"Yeah," he said with a grimace. "I hear you."

He stepped out of the cell and locked it behind him. "Sorry about this. I've gotta follow procedure."

"It's fine. I get it. You're doing a lot for me already. Risking your career for a suspected murderer."

"I don't know," he said after a moment. "I think some things are worth the risk." He smiled at her and tapped the bars. "I'll send one of my guys in with some food. See you in the morning."

"Thanks, Eli. And thanks for bringing Juice to see me."

He acknowledged that with a wave and disappeared out the door.

She should have asked Juice to go get her a change of clothes, she thought. Not only was she tired of wearing the same outfit for almost twenty-four hours, but also she didn't feel entirely comfortable in a skirt. She would ask whoever came by tomorrow. Gemma, maybe.

In the meantime she tried as best she could to get comfortable and waited for a deputy to bring her something to eat.

When Eli stopped by the next afternoon, Olivia was pacing back and forth across the small cell. She walked with a slight limp and she flexed and relaxed her fingers like she was testing her grip. When she saw him she stopped and smiled a little.

"Was beginning to think everybody'd forgotten about me."

His smile was grim. He unlocked the cell door and stood in the entrance with his arms crossed.

"What's that look? Did he call Atlanta after all? Are you here to take me to the fucking airport?"

He let out a long breath. "Lee Toric's dead, Olivia."

She blinked. Jerked her head once, quickly. "Come again?"

"Otto Delaney stabbed him to death this morning. Apparently someone slipped him a shiv at some point." He paused. "A few hours before Otto killed Toric, Clay Morrow demanded a meet with him as one of the conditions for his deal."

"Shit. Holy…" She staggered and would have gone down, but he rushed forward to catch her. "I'm okay," she said. "I'm fine." She didn't sound it, and he hovered close with a concerned frown.

"You think Jax ordered this?" he said.

"I can't—I've got no idea, Eli. How would he? They would monitor his conversation with Clay, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, they would."

"Okay then. It seems like Clay decided to find a permanent solution to the problem."

"Word is Toric was bringin' some pretty bad shit down on Delaney. Rape and beatings."

"Who was this guy, Eli? What the fuck?"

"I don't know, but I looked up his service record and it's spotty as shit. I'm leaving straight from here to search his hotel room, but I thought I'd stop by to let you out first."

"Let me out?"

"Toric's dead. He never went to the DA about you. You're free to go."

Her brows drew together and she rested a light hand on his arm. "What about the warrant?"

"I told you yesterday, Olivia. If it just meant you going on trial, I'd have to do it. You killed the man, and murder's murder no matter how bad he deserved it."

He shifted his weight. Looked away. "But I can't send you back if there's even a chance you're right about your former father-in-law. I looked into Mick Doyle; he's one mean motherfucker."

"You got that right," she said with a rueful slant to her mouth. "I don't know how to repay you for this."

"How about don't kill anyone else?"

"Done," she said.

"That one's easy. Let's try a different one: how about you get the fuck outta this town before it kills you?"

"Soon. I promise, Eli." She squeezed his arm and offered a reassuring smile.

He didn't seem all that convinced, but after a moment he gave a weary nod. "Your car's still at the hospital. After what happened last time I wanted to wait until I knew for sure what was happening before I towed it."

"I'm not sure our relationship could've survived you impounding my car for a second time."

"Yeah," he said with a wry grin. "I figured. I'll get one of my deputies to drive you to St. Thomas."

She hesitated. "I'd rather call somebody from the club." She'd about had her fill of cops.

"Of course you would," he said, resigned. "Well. Lady's choice."

Juice wanted to head straight to the compound—they were still on lockdown, after all—but she insisted he take her home first. She needed a shower, something to eat, and a change of clothes, and while she could get the first two at the clubhouse, the last one would be harder to come by unless she wanted to dress like a crow eater: i.e., dress like Gemma. That wasn't really her aesthetic.

When they got inside he started toward the kitchen, but she grabbed him. "Shower first," she said as her mouth captured his. "Food later."

His hands skimmed from her hips to her ribcage. "You askin' for company?"

"I might need help scrubbing those hard-to-reach spots," she said. She ran her tongue over his lower lip. "After two nights in jail, I'll need to be thorough."

He grinned and let her lead him to the bathroom. She tossed her dress in the hamper with a grimace.

"I love that dress, and now I might never wear it again."

His brows quirked in commiseration, but when he started to take his own clothes off, she stopped him. "Let me," she murmured.

He raised his hands, only too happy to give her the lead. She pulled his shirt over his head and kissed his chest. He'd gotten the tattoos he'd talked about that night, months ago—two skulls, one black and one white, and the words "Son" and "Shine." She'd asked him what it meant, but he'd been vague. She had her own theories.

Now she ran her tongue around the curve of each skull and traced the letters. He shivered. She flicked across his nipples; lapped first one and then the other until he made a little whimper of pleasure. He had surprisingly sensitive nipples.

She unfastened his belt and pushed his pants to the floor. She caressed his thighs. Danced her fingers over his hipbones. Nipped at his collarbone with her lips. She licked up the side of his neck and swirled her tongue against a spot behind his ear.

He grasped her hips and pulled her against him. She wiggled out of her bra and panties, and it was skin against skin down the length of their bodies. He stretched out an arm to start the water, and soon steam billowed around them. They ignored it.

He cupped her face in his hands and she ran her fingers down his back and over his ass. Their lips met; first a brush, soft as a whisper, and for a moment they held there, their mouths not quite touching. She could taste his breath. He could feel the heat of her. He smoothed his tongue across her mouth and she hauled him in for a kiss. Her teeth found his lip and his tongue scraped the inside of her mouth and their quiet moans mingled.

She stepped into the tub and beckoned for him to follow her. He took a moment to appreciate the view as water poured over her body: her full breasts, the swell of her hips, the tattoo that painted her side. She struck a pose.

"Like what you see, Ortiz?" she said with a laugh. Her eyes drifted down. She lifted a brow. "Looks like it."

He climbed in beside her and closed the curtain. Her wet skin slid against his as he tugged her close for another kiss. He mouthed droplets from her face. Their eyes met and his face creased with concern.

"You okay, babe?"

She tried to shrug it off, but she couldn't fake it with him. "I was scared, Juicy. I'm still scared," she admitted. "I can't believe it was that…I don't want to say easy, because two people are dead, but…easy, kinda."

"You're waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"It always seems to."

"Maybe it won't this time." He kissed her slow and deep. "Maybe it'll be okay for once."

"That would be nice."

He grabbed the soap from its nook and made a lather. The smell of citrus and lavender filled the air.

"Either way," he said as he ran his slippery hands down her body, "we can worry about all that later. There are other things to think about now."

"Mmmm. Like what?"

He spread soap up her thighs. Over her hips. His fingers dipped into the crack of her buttocks and she shivered.

"All those hard-to-reach places," he murmured and lowered his head to tease her neck with his tongue.

He turned her around and pressed against her back. His cock nestled between her cheeks. She rocked her hips to feel the heated length of him slide against her. He stifled a moan and reached around to toy with her breasts. He squeezed. Massaged. His slick fingers slipped and slid over her sensitive nipples and she squirmed. He nipped the curve of her shoulder and blew a stream of air across her damp skin.

He rinsed the soap off one hand and cupped her mound. She shook her head. "No, babe," she said, her voice strained, "just fuck me. Please. Please, Juicy."

His jaw tightened. He rested his forehead on her skull and tried to get his breath back. She was always so fucking needy in the aftermath of these (increasingly frequent) close calls, and it made him want to do things to her—and burying himself to the hilt in her hot, sweet cunt was only the beginning.

It also made him want her to do even dirtier things to him.

"Fuck, Livvie," he croaked.

"That's what I had in mind, baby," she said with a smirk.

His fingers found her clit and she jerked into him. He panted. He splashed some water across his throbbing cock to wash the soap off and rubbed the tip up and down her slit.

"Yeah, Juicy," she whimpered. "Please!"

He had no patience for teasing. He'd been scared too—still was—and right now he needed her as much as she needed him. He thrust into her, long and slow and just rough enough to make her catch her breath.

"Fuck," she murmured. "Fuck that's good."

He braced one hand against the tiled wall while the other stayed between her legs. Warm water rained down on them like a thousand tiny caresses. His hips jerked and she moaned his name. Begged him for more. He leaned closer to press his lips to her shoulder. She squeezed him deep inside, and that was all the prompting he needed.

He brushed his mouth against her neck and rocked in hard, rhythmic thrusts. She was hot and tight and so, so wet. He rasped her name and babbled endearments into the curve of her shoulder. Her breath came in sharp, desperate pants; she pressed her hand to his and guided his fingers against her clit.

His movements became rougher, more erratic, and her moans and pleas urged him on.

"I love you, Liv," he said. "Love you so goddamn much. Can't get enough of you."

She let out a breathless, stuttering laugh. "I love you too, Juicy. Don't stop, baby. You feel so good!"

"Yeah, oh God, yeah—shit—Liv, baby—fuck, I—!"

"Not yet. Not yet!"

He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into the tile. She ground her hips against him and he felt her muscles go tense.

"Now!" she gasped. "Come with me, love!"

He closed his eyes and let the orgasm take him. He felt the heated clench of her and soaked in the sound of her lust-wrecked moans. They moved in sync, riding out the waves together, and as it passed he wrapped an arm around her to keep her upright.

Her head fell back against his shoulder and she was laughing. He kissed her nose with a grin. She gave him one last, shiver-inducing squeeze before he slipped out of her.

She reached up to run her fingers along his jaw. "I love you," she said, quiet and sincere.

"I know," he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"Okay, Han," she said and elbowed him in the gut.

He let out an oomph as he laughed. "C'mon, Your Worship. I'll help you wash your hair so you can put it up in cinnamon buns."

"Fuck you, Ortiz," she said, grinning.

"Not just yet, babe. Gotta gimme a sec to recover."

Later he lay in bed, drowsy and content, and watched her as she braided her still-damp hair. She ran a comb through it section by section before she divided it down her back. She caught his eye in the mirror and looked over her shoulder with a smile.

"What? You're staring."

"You've got mermaid hair," he said.

"Hence that." She pointed to a framed poster on the wall: a mermaid sat on the shore combing out her long reddish hair.

"Yep. She looks kinda like you. Your boobs are bigger, though."

She chuckled. "Plus, I mean. Legs."

"Eh," he said and tilted his head in a shrug. "Minor details."

Her mouth curved and she turned back toward the mirror.

"That's what your next tattoo should be. A mermaid."

"Hhmm, I don't know. I was thinking I'd get my right arm done like the left one. To cover up the surgery scar."

"That'd be—" His phone rang, interrupting him, and he answered it with a frown.

She finished with her hair. Sat still and quiet as she listened to his end. They had ignored the lockdown as long as they could, she guessed. She sighed and got up to get dressed.

He hung up and tossed the phone on the nightstand. "That was Chibs. We should head in. There's church tonight, full table, and Jax is still freakin' out about the Irish."

"They probably need you for club business, don't they?" she said from inside the closet.

"Not really." He raised his voice so she could hear him and gathered his clothes. "Sounds like everybody's at the clubhouse or headed there."

"Okay," she said. "Drop me by St. Thomas for my car and you can meet them."

"I'd rather make sure you got there in one piece."

She sighed a little and tugged on a pair of jeans. "Fine. You can follow me in. Better?"

"Reasonable," he said and planted a kiss on her full mouth.

Her car was right where she'd left it two days ago. She was surprised the hospital hadn't had it towed, but she wasn't going to question the minor bit of good fortune. She waved to him and climbed in, and he fell in behind her as she drove past.

The TM lot was packed, but she managed to squeeze the Cougar in next to Tara. Juice parked his bike in its usual spot. A quick count showed that everyone was here already. It was just past seven, and Chibs had said church was at eight. Juice shrugged at her questioning look.

"I guess everyone wanted to be here early."

"I should go check the garage," she said with an anxious look that way.

"One drink first," he said. "Everybody wants to see you. After that we'll go over there together."

She cut him a look. "What? In case I faint or something?"

He glanced away with a little frown. "I just don't…I guess I'm afraid to let you outta my sight right now." His chin tilted toward her. "Creepy, huh?"

"A little. But you're cute enough I'll let you get away with it."

"I knew my good looks would come in handy one day."

She rolled her eyes and leaned into him as he rested his hand on the small of her back. They made their way through the crowded clubhouse slowly; everyone had a greeting or word for one or both of them; and by the time they got to the bar she was feeling jumpy.

"Ollie!" Chucky said when he saw them. "You're back!"

"I am indeed. Jail's no place for a girl like me." Her forehead creased and she pressed his arm. "I'm so sorry about Otto," she said, gently.

He frowned down at the bar, surprised she would mention it. "He went through some bad stuff at the end. I think he's probably better off, really."

"You might be right. But he was your friend and it always sucks."

He nodded a little and sniffled. Then he looked up with an excited grin. "I got some of that Wild Turkey you like."

She recognized a desperately-needed change of subject when she saw one, so she returned his smile with one her own. "The Rare Breed?"

"That's it."

"Hit me." She held her fingers apart just a smidge. "Water."

"Strong," Juice remarked. The Rare Breed was undiluted, high proof, and it wasn't really designed to be drunk straight. She normally liked her drinks a little weaker than she'd indicated to Chucky.

"It's that kinda day," she said with a wry twist to her mouth.

"Make it two," Juice said. "And a beer."

He puttered off to get their drinks and she turned around to prop her back against the bar. She rested her elbows on the edge and crossed her ankles. "Any idea how long this lockdown's supposed to last?" she said.

She never had warmed up to the idea, but at least she didn't flip out like she had that first time. "Not sure," he said. "The Irish are hard to pin down."

"Hum," she said, a low noise of agreement. "Oh, there's Tara." She grabbed the glass Chucky left for her and started away. "Gimme a sec, yeah?"

"No problem," Juice said, but the crowd had already swallowed her and his voice was drowned out by all the noise.

"Ah, Juicy boy!" Chibs said as he came up beside him. He clapped him on the back and they shared a brief hug. "How's our girl?" he said.

Chibs nodded across the room toward Olivia and Tara. The two women were locked in what looked like an intense conversation, but abruptly Olivia threw her head back and laughed. Thomas joined in, delighted, and Olivia tickled his tummy. Tara couldn't resist the sound of her son's giggles, and soon all three of them were cackling.

"Looks okay, I guess," Juice said with half a grin.

"Aye, well." Chibs took a pull off his beer and grimaced. "She always looks okay. How is she really?"

Juice frowned and turned back to the bar. He sipped his bourbon and played with a peanut. Chibs hunched next to him.

"She's pretty spooked," Juice finally said. "This was a real close call. If Otto hadn't—" He broke off and hitched a shoulder. "She never would've ratted."

"I know it, lad. We all do."

He ducked his head, and when he looked up again his eyes were steady and challenging. "All of us? Even Jax? He seemed pretty unsure yesterday."

"Don't mind Jackie. You know how he gets sometimes. Things're weird right now, and that Marshal was gettin' too close for comfort. It should all settle soon."

"I'm not sure," Juice said. "Roosevelt told Olivia that Toric was authorized by the DA. She wants to find someone to blame for that school shooting, and I guess she thinks we're as good a target as any."

"Aye, that's what we've been hearin'," he said, grimly. "She tried to come after Nero and Diosa, but he's clean. You think she'll try Ollie next?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Toric didn't give her Olivia's file, and Roosevelt says he won't—Olivia trusts him, so I guess I do too—so maybe she's safe from that for now."

Chibs made a quiet, thoughtful noise, but whatever he might have said was lost as Jax joined them.

"Juice," he said and hugged him. "Good to see you, brother. We missed you today."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I had to—"

"Don't worry about it," Jax said. "You had to take care of Ollie. It's fine." He paused and his expression turned wary. "Has she seen the garage yet?"

"We were gonna head over there before church. Is it…is it bad?"

"We got it cleaned up," Chibs said. "But they trashed one of the tool chests completely; it's dented all to shite. Plus they broke one of the air compressors. She's not gonna be happy."

"Great," Juice said with a scowl.

Jax opened his mouth, but something on the bar caught his eye. He picked it up and stared for a moment. "This your pen?" he asked nobody in particular.

It was a white plastic click pen decorated with green shamrocks; Juice couldn't see anything special about it, especially not enough to warrant Jax' sudden tension.

"Haven't seen it before," Chucky said. "I guess the delivery guy left it."

"Delivery guy?" Chibs said. "What delivery guy?"

Chucky nodded toward an untapped keg. "He brought that. I figured Gemma ordered it because we were almost out."

Jax and Chibs exchanged alarmed glances. "Did you ask her?" Jax said.

"No. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Holy fuck," Chibs said.

"What's the matter?" Juice said.

Jax spun around. "Get out!" he screamed. "Everybody out now!"

Chibs steered two crow eaters toward the door and shouted back over his shoulder at Juice: "Get the fuck out, lad!"

Olivia was still on the other side of the room, and in the panic and press he couldn't get to her. He couldn't even see her through the crowd because of her height. He didn't want to leave until he knew she was safe, but Happy grabbed him on his way out.

"Let go! I gotta get Olivia!"

"Tig's got her and Tara," Happy said. "Juicy, come on!"

Juice let out a frustrated curse and tucked the nearest kid under one arm and wrapped the other around the kid's mom. They made it out to the parking lot and halfway across when the clubhouse blew. Juice shielded the kid with his body as best he could as the blast knocked them off their feet. He hit the ground hard and gasped in singed, ashy air.

He sat up after several long, breathless seconds. Shook his head to try to clear it and ran a trembling hand back and forth across his scalp. "You guys okay?" he said to the crow eater.

She managed a frightened nod. He mussed the kid's hair, rose shakily to his feet, and set off to find Olivia among the chaos.

She's really gonna be pissed about the garage now. :/