I'm going to preface this with the following plea: trust me, faithful readers. We've been together a long time. I wouldn't betray you now.

confusion wanders in
strides the evening like a king
chaos and turmoil prevail
bedlam reigns, hope is drowned
ah but strangely we settle down
resigned to the sinking ship on which we sail
David Gray, "It's All Over"

When Olivia got home Rat was already there, perched on her front steps. He rose as she approached and gave a quick nod.

"Hey, Ollie," he said.

Her mouth twisted. "I guess you're here to keep an eye on me."

"Um, yeah. Jax said—"

She waved a hand. "Forget it. I can imagine what Jax said. Why aren't you at church with everybody else?"

He shuffled his feet and tucked his hands in his pockets. "He thought you might—I mean, while everybody was there would be a great time for you to—"

"Right. Well. Come on in, I guess. You want anything?"

"Nah, I'm okay."

"Boots, cut, gun," she said and pointed to each spot in turn.

"Um, Jax said—"

She let out a hard sigh. "This is my house, Rat. If you don't want to follow my rules, you can stay out here. Jackson Teller's no president of mine."

Rat spared a moment to wonder if all old ladies were like Gemma, Tara, and Ollie. He didn't think they were, as a whole, quite so fucking difficult. At last he sighed and slumped down on the bench. "I'll wait here," he mumbled.

"Great," she said. "I'm going to change. I'll be right back."

"Oh, Ollie, hey."

She paused and turned back.

"Someone left this tucked in your door. I saw it when I got here." He held out a plain white envelope, and she took it with a lifted brow.

"So you thought you'd just grab it for me?"

"I didn't read it. I just—I had to make sure it wasn't from Tara."

She rubbed a hand across her face. "Wait here," she said. "I'll be ten minutes, max."

She shut her bedroom door behind her and dropped the envelope on the vanity. She recognized it perfectly well. There was no postmark at all this time, and from what Rat said it sounded like it hadn't come through the mail.

"One problem at a time," she muttered to herself. She dove into her closet, and while surrounded by clothes and bags and shoes, she pulled out her phone and dialed Tara's number. It rang several times before she finally answered.

"Ollie," she said. "You shouldn't be calling."

"I know. And believe me, it was hard to shake my tail long enough to do it. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine. Tail? Are you still in Charming?"

"For now. Jax has Rat on me and he's called the table. I don't know what he's planning to do."

There was a brief silence. Then, "How's Juice?"

"Okay. Relatively speaking. I don't think he was trying to—to die so much as just forget for a minute. Tara, are you making the deal?"

"I don't know. I think so. I'm meeting with my lawyer later to talk about it."

Olivia let out a long breath. "Be careful, yeah? Keep your eyes open."

"I will." She said something to one of the kids and then, to Olivia, "Did you talk to Jax?"

"Juice did. I overheard the conversation."

"How did he sound?"

"Worried," she said. "Tired. More confused than angry, to be honest."

She made a soft noise, and Olivia thought she might be crying. "Thanks for calling, Ollie."

"Yeah, of course. I'll call again if I can."

"Don't risk yourself. Stay safe."

"You too, Tara." There was a knock at the bedroom door. "Fuck, gotta go. Bye!" She hung up and stuffed the phone in her pocket. The knock came again. She stripped her shirt off and quickly ran a hand through her braid to loosen it.

She opened the door and peeked her head out. "I told you I'd be a minute. What's the matter?"

"Jax wants me to take you back to the shop. You're going to work today, right?"

"TM or the ice cream shop?"

"Um. Ice cream, I think."

"That's not where I work, Rat."

"I know, but he said—"

"Look, I need a shower. Can he wait a few minutes? Obviously I'm not going to escape your clutches from my fucking bathroom."

He shuffled his feet. She glanced down at the sound and lifted a brow. There was a hole in his left sock. He wiggled his toes and she grinned. He looked away guiltily.

"It'll be our little secret, sugar." She opened the door wider and he gulped.

"Uh—"

"Unless you wanna see more than you bargained for, how about go park yourself in the living room while I run through the shower. Don't worry. If Jax grumbles I'll cover for you."

Rat rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Just hurry, okay? I told him we were leaving now."

She gave his arm a squeeze as she passed, and a moment later he heard the water start in the bathroom. She took what had to be the fastest shower of her life, and when she opened the door again he was on her couch flipping through the channels on her TV.

"Five more minutes, Rat," she said.

He acknowledged that by raising the remote at her.

She left the bedroom door open and grabbed the first clothes that came to hand: a pair of jeans and the old thrift store Yes concert t-shirt she'd worn to see Juice in the hospital that day over two years ago, the day she'd crawled in bed with him and they'd eaten too many cookies. She thought maybe that was a good omen. She got dressed, and as she sat down at the vanity to do her hair her eye landed on the envelope.

She snuck a look over her shoulder, but Rat had apparently stayed in the living room out of deference to her state of déshabillé. She made quick work of her braid and then ripped the envelope open. It wasn't a postcard this time, but instead a photograph of the "Welcome to Charming" sign. She flipped it over.

Such a lovely town. So sorry we missed you. Next time? xoxo

"You ready?" Rat called.

She dropped the photo and rubbed her palm against her jeans. "Yep," she said. "Let's go."

Olivia hurried out to her car while Rat lingered to get his boots on. She sat for a moment and tried to collect herself. Teddy was in Charming. He knew where she worked. He knew where she lived. He was coming for her.

"One goddamn problem at a time," she said to her reflection in the rearview mirror. She would be at the ice cream shop today. He couldn't get to her there.

For now, at least, she was safe. It was more than she could say for Tara, and that's who she needed to focus on right now.

When they found Tara at the park, Juice's first thought was about Olivia. He'd promised her he'd try to protect Tara, but how could he? Short of punching Jax in the face—which would get him shot—what could he possibly do? He played with Thomas and tried to eavesdrop on their conversation. Tara was crying. Jax looked stern.

If he broke this promise to Olivia he'd probably never forgive himself.

He almost fainted with relief when Jax told them to take the boys back to the shop. Bobby asked what was happening with Tara.

"It's okay, brother," he said and patted Bobby's arm. "She's no rat. She was just scared and wanted to protect our boys. Now I'm gonna protect her."

They got the carseats transferred to the vans and they all made an unlikely caravan to the ice cream shop. Olivia's car was parked out front, and after he left Thomas with Chibs he went to find her.

She was in the workroom in the back, but it didn't look like she was working. Her phone was on the table and she spun it around and around. Her forehead was creased, her eyes frightened. He paused a moment.

Then, "Nice shirt," he said.

She looked up and her expression smoothed into a smile. "That's not what you said last time." She rose to meet him. Ran her arms around his neck as he rested his hands on her waist.

"I was upset and under the influence of pain medication. I can't be held responsible for anything I said that day."

She kissed him, but when she pulled away the worry was back. "You're here already? Did you find Tara?"

"Yeah. I think it's gonna be okay, babe. Jax said she didn't make the deal, and he's going to protect her and the boys."

"What's that mean?"

"I'm not sure. The boys are here, but Jax is with Tara now."

"Juice—"

"Hey, no, it's okay. I promise you. You didn't see him. He won't hurt her."

She rested her forehead against his chest and he kissed her hair. "You're sure, Juicy?"

"I'm sure, Liv. I think this might all work out. For once."

She turned away and rubbed a hand across her face. "We've got another situation."

He tensed. Of course they did. They always did. "Lay it on me," he said, ruefully.

"Nero just called. He had a little talk with Jax this morning."

"Oh shit."

"He said he left our names out of it, but Jax will know. He has to. There's nobody else who could've told him."

He scrubbed at his scalp. "So what do we do?"

"I don't know." She pivoted and leaned against the counter. Her nose scrunched. "Part of me says to ride it out, see what happens—but a bigger part of me doesn't trust Jax to act rationally about this. He already doesn't trust me; he had Rat on my house this morning and apparently I'm not allowed to go to TM. Where I actually fucking work."

His mouth twisted in irritation. Jax should have talked to him first; Olivia was his old lady, not Jax', and Jax needed to respect that. Saying that aloud was a sure-fire way to piss her off even more, though, so instead he tried to reassure her.

"It's me he'll come after," he said. "I'm the rat, not you."

Her eyes flicked to his and she lifted a brow. "He can try to come after you."

He snorted and stepped closer. Tugged her against him and rested his forehead on hers. "You are very tiny and very scary. I'd bet on you against Jax Teller any day."

"I'm not that tiny," she said with a frown.

He ran a hand up to cup her breast. "Not everywhere, no."

She laughed and shoved him away. "Perv. Don't you have some sort of club business to attend to?"

"Probably. But I'd rather make out with you—even when you're wearing a Yes t-shirt."

"Ohh," she said as he pulled her close again. "I guess this must be love."

"You know it, gorgeous," he murmured just before their mouths met.

The kiss was long and leisurely, warm and easy. She tasted like mint and honey; his tongue was soft, his lips firm; her fingers traced lazy patterns on the back of his neck while his eased beneath the edge of her shirt to stroke the smooth skin along her sides.

They were jerked out of the moment by banging on the door.

"All right, laddie!" Chibs called without opening it. "That's enough canoodling with the pretty lady. We've got business that needs seein' to!"

He scowled. She giggled and kissed his nose. "Told you."

"Yeah, yeah. All right, Chibs, I'm coming!" He kissed her again. And again. She patted his ass and stepped back.

"Go on. He might bust down the door."

"Thirty seconds, Juicy!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'll let you know what's happening as soon as I know anything," he said to her. One more quick kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too, babe. Go!"

He went. She waved at Chibs, but his only response was a tight smile—almost more like a grimace—that didn't touch his eyes. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything he shut the door behind them.

Jax must have said something to him about Juice. About Nero. But Chibs knew the truth; surely he, of all people, wouldn't—

But the club was the club, and a rat was a rat. Olivia sank down onto a nearby stool and cradled her head in her hand.

They would take it to the table this time. The whole thing, maybe. How the fuck could Juice avoid Mayhem then? They'd strip his patch and kill him. After that…after that they might come after her. A rat's old lady couldn't be trusted.

Juice wasn't alone. He had allies. Or at least he had an ally. She wasn't sure how she could help him, but she knew she had to.

She pressed her shaking hands against the table, palms flat and fingers spread. Gradually her fear subsided. She had options. The game wasn't over yet, and she still had cards to play.

When Juice pulled up in front of Jax and Tara's house he took a brief inventory of the cars spilling out of the driveway: a patrol car (Roosevelt's, probably), Tara's SUV, and, as he'd suspected, Unser's truck. It was parked haphazardly on the lawn and the door hung open. The engine was off, but the keys were still in the ignition. He yanked them out and pocketed them, then pulled his gun. He held it low to hide it from any too-curious neighbors and tried to act normal as he approached the house.

The front door was ajar, and he pushed it open with his gun. He looked first right, down the hall, then left toward the kitchen. His eyes went wide.

Roosevelt and Tara were tied up on the kitchen floor. The Sheriff was clearly dead, slumped sideways with a growing pool of blood beneath him. Tara was still alive, but Gemma stood over her with a gun aimed at the back of her head.

He couldn't make sense of it. Gemma had managed to overpower both Eli and Tara and had taken the time to tie them up? Then she'd killed Eli? What the fuck?

"Gemma!" he said.

She spun toward him. The gun trembled in her hand. Her face was wild, her mascara streaked like a maniacal Alice Cooper. "She did this!" she said. "I have to do it! She ratted. It's her fault!"

He held up his weapon to show that he wasn't going to hurt her. "She didn't rat, Gem. She didn't. Give me the gun. It'll be okay. Hand me the gun."

She moved her finger to the trigger. Juice charged and knocked the gun out of her hand. He grabbed her before she could fall and warded off the blows she aimed at his face.

"Calm down! Gemma, stop!" He shook her once, hard, and she let out a cry. She fell against him. He ran a shaking hand over her hair. "It's okay. Try to breathe, Gem. We'll make it okay." He had no idea how, but right now he just needed her to calm the hell down.

Tara squirmed against her bonds and screamed at him through the gag. He gently pushed Gemma aside and tucked his gun into the waistband of his pants. He tugged the gag out of Tara's mouth and pulled his knife to start with the ropes.

"You crazy bitch!" Tara screamed at Gemma. "I didn't fucking rat!"

Gemma rushed at her and Juice threw out his arm to catch her.

"Everyone just calm the fuck down!" he barked. "Someone explain what happened here, because as it is this is the most confusing, fucked up thing I've ever walked in on."

Tara subsided with a snarl. "She didn't do this," she admitted, reluctantly. "She was just going to take advantage of the situation by putting a bullet in my head when I couldn't fight back."

He cast a look at Gemma. She held up her hands. "I got here and Roosevelt was dead. Tara was like you saw her. I don't know what happened. Justice, looks like to me. Fuckin' traitor bitch."

"Eli was helping me get some stuff together when two guys broke in. They tied us up and shot him in the back of the head. They were about to kill me when they heard the truck outside and ran off." She jerked her head toward the counter. "They left that."

Juice frowned and left her, mostly still bound but partially freed, to get a closer look. It was a postcard. There was a picture of a city skyline on the front, and a peach in one corner that said Welcome to Atlanta. His blood went cold. He flipped it to read the back, but it was blank.

Gemma's eyes slid from Juice to Tara. He had his back to them, and he seemed absorbed by whatever had been left on the counter. Her head pivoted toward the gun she'd dropped. It was within reach if she moved fast.

Tara followed Gemma's look and her eyes went wide. "Juice!"

He spun around, but it was too late. Gemma had the weapon in her hand. She pulled the trigger as Juice tackled her. The shot was loud in the small room, deafening, and it left them both reeling. He held her against the floor and glared down at her.

"I told you she didn't. Fucking. Rat! Jax made a deal to keep her and the boys safe. Jesus Christ, Gemma, you're out of control."

He took the weapon from her and clambered to his feet. He turned toward Tara to ask if she were okay and froze. She was slumped over, bleeding from the head. Her eyes were open and staring.

"Holy shit. Holy goddamn shit."

Behind him Gemma sobbed.

He scrubbed both hands over his face. Jax would kill Gemma for this. He might make her suffer first. He would be out of his mind, and Juice couldn't blame him. How would he react if it were Olivia on the floor?

Through the clamor Juice could hear Clay's voice in his head.

Thank you for today, brother.

It's Gemma. Gemma's the only thing that matters anymore.

He shuddered and smacked his palms against his skull. He'd failed Olivia, broken his promise to her, but maybe it wasn't too late to make it up to Clay. He turned around and held out his hand.

"Let's go," he said, quietly.

"Jackson," she said and touched him lightly on the arm, "can we talk a sec?"

He studied her through suspicious, narrowed eyes. He liked Ollie. He always had. But he didn't trust Juice, and by association that made it hard for him to trust her. She'd done good things for the club, and no doubt she was an amazing mechanic, but lately he wondered where her allegiances truly were. It didn't help she'd been spending so much time with Tara but claimed she'd known nothing about the faked pregnancy or miscarriage—or Tara's attempt to make a deal.

"Yeah," he finally said. "Let's take a walk." He handed Thomas to Chibs and fell in step beside her as they left the old ice cream shop. He matched his pace to hers, shortening his much longer stride so that she didn't have to hurry to keep up. "What's on your mind?"

She cut her eyes up at him. "What did Nero tell you? About last night?"

Jax stopped. Turned slowly to pin her with a cold glare. "What do you know about Nero and me?"

"I know all's not well. Doesn't take a genius to see that much." She walked on, and he had no choice but to follow her.

"So what's your stake in it?" he said after a quiet moment.

"Same as my stake in anything to do with this club: Juice. He didn't betray you, Jax."

He thrust his hands in his pockets. "I find that hard to believe, Ollie. Juice and I were the only ones who knew about the girl, and now Nero knows. Who else could've told him?"

"I did. I'm the one who told him." She let out a delicate snort at his incredulous expression. "She shot me, Jax. You think Juice wasn't gonna give me the truth about what happened? That was the only thing that made it even semi-okay for him."

"Your old man is fucking unstable, Olivia. He's a danger to this club. Now you're telling me you are, too?"

"If that's how you want to see it." A long sigh. "Listen. Juice was pretty fucked up last night. He drank an entire bottle of tequila and took some of Bobby's oxy and headed to Diosa. Apparently he passed out and scared the poor girl half to death when she came in to give him his massage. Gemma was worried, so she called me.

"By the time I got there he was still mostly out, and he kept muttering in his sleep about that girl. That he was sorry. Nero was getting spooked, starting to ask questions, so I told him I asked Juice to kill her. Because she fucking shot me."

Jackson shook his head once, hard. "Bullshit, Ollie. Nero told me Juice said I ordered it."

She paused. Nero had told her the opposite: that he'd left Juice's name out of it like he'd promised her. So which one of them was lying?

"Juice said no such thing," she said. "I can tell you that Nero didn't believe me. He asked if it was you, if you'd made the call. I said I didn't know."

She stepped closer, and despite being a foot shorter than he, was somehow up in his face. The frightened, cowering Olivia from a few days ago was gone. The woman in front of him now had a spine of steel and nothing to lose. He recognized the look of it in her blazing green eyes.

"Think about it, Jax. He's pissed about the girl. He thinks you ordered Juice to kill her. So he tells you that's what Juice said: not only does he fuck your shit up, he gets you to kill Juice for him. He comes out smelling like a rose while you have everyone's blood on your hands."

"I already have everyone's blood on my hands," he said, roughly.

"No shit. But if you let the guys kill Juice for this, you'll just be adding to it for no goddamn reason."

He blinked down at her. "Why are you telling me this?" he said.

She sighed and stepped back. Turned away so that she could see in the shop window down the block. The guys were all there, and Jax' boys. It was a sweet scene. Unlikely and incongruous, but sweet. Juice was playing with Thomas. Chibs and Abel were building something from blocks. The others were drinking beer, laughing, messing around with the kids' toys.

"Why do you think, Jax? There comes a point in everyone's life when we look at what we've built and wonder why." A pause. Then, "You're learning that it's impossible to serve two masters. Can you love both your family and your club? Can you sacrifice for both of them? Make both of them your priority? No. You have to pick one. Today, you chose."

"I'm giving myself up for my family and my club."

She glanced back with an ironic arch to her brow. "Hhhmm. You could've killed Tara today. You could've had one of the guys do it. She was planning to rat; they would've done it. That would've been choosing your club. But walking away? Going to prison and letting Tara take the boys out of Charming? No, Jackson. You're choosing them. Ultimately, you're choosing family over brotherhood."

He shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "That doesn't exactly answer my question."

She slowly pivoted toward him, and her bright eyes were clear and sad as they met his. "I chose last night. I don't have the same bonds of brotherhood with this club as you do, but I do have other ties. Other loyalties. I've sewn these guys up. Laughed with them. Comforted them. Beat their asses in poker." She shrugged a shoulder. "When it came down to it, I chose Juice. To protect Juice. He's my family, Jax. He's my Tara. If you want to send your club after someone, send them after me. I gave Nero enough rope to hang you with, no matter what I told him. He was never gonna believe I asked Juice to kill that girl."

Jax surged toward her, but she didn't flinch. Her even expression gave him pause, and as much as he might want to grab her and shake sense into her, he stopped himself. "You fucked us, Olivia! Nero thinks I looked him in the face and lied!"

"You did, Jax! Did you forget that detail? You ordered the death of an innocent woman and then you lied to your friend and business partner about it. You asked an unstable man who would do fucking anything for you to kill that girl, and then you washed your hands of it."

She grabbed his hand in hers and squeezed, hard. Her fingers were strong, and he winced at the pressure. "You're like Lady MacBeth, Jax. You can never wash this stain away. Don't look at me with those judgmental eyes like it's my fault! Like my choice was the wrong one. Would you rather me have let Juice tell him the truth? Because he might have. Not because he was ready to betray you, but because he was high and drunk and out of his head. Are you so eager to see another brother meet Mayhem that you'd rather believe it of Juice than me?"

He pulled his hand from her grasp and fell back. Scrubbed his face roughly and tugged at his hair. "The Mayans are moving into Stockton. The Byz Lats want to join up with them. We need Nero on our side right now. Thanks to you—"

"Fuck you, Jackson Teller. I get so fucking sick of men doing stupid, thoughtless shit and then blaming a woman because she calls him on it. No. You're not gonna lay this at my door. If you and your club want to punish me in some way, then fine. Technically I ratted. I'll accept that judgement, even if it means death. But I will not take the blame for your mistakes."

His shoulders sagged and his arms fell to his sides like heavy dead things. He stared at her, his blue eyes clouded and confused.

"I don't understand. You're willing to die for this?"

"What would you do? What would you sacrifice to keep the people you love safe?" A wry chuckle. "I think today's events have answered that question."

"I didn't sell out my club to do it!"

"They're not my club! But Juice is mine. That's the difference. I protected you and your fucking MC as best I could. It's not my fault you've done so many shitty, shifty things during your acquaintance with Nero that he was ready to believe the worst about you no matter what I said."

"I gotta take this to the table, Olivia," he said after a long, hard silence.

She raised her chin and set her jaw. "I know you do. Whatever they decide, fine."

"We don't vote on old ladies." He said it derisively, and she prickled.

"Then don't. Have a conversation about what a traitorous bitch I am and then shoot me in the head. I don't fucking care. I think they might want to hear my version of events, though."

He looked away. Back. "I'll tell them to give you a vote."

Her mouth quirked. "To see what Juice chooses when he's against the ropes. The club, or me. Yea or nay." She slid her cold fingers into her pockets and rocked back on her heels. "Do you know why I was so against the idea of being an old lady, Jax?"

"Because you're too fucking stubborn?"

"Please. Have you met your mother?" She shook her head. "No. It's because I knew Juice would always choose the club. I knew no matter what, his loyalties are to SAMCRO. I know what you're thinking, but the fact that he ratted at all is proof of it. That sounds crazy, but you weren't there. You aren't the one who put him back together again. I was. I am. He betrayed Clay—a man who was like a father to him—over and over for you. He looked Clay in the eye and took that gun knowing full well what you planned. Yesterday Clay put his arms around him and thanked him—and Juice knew he'd voted yes twice.

"Don't tell me Juice won't choose the club, Jax. He'll choose the club every fucking time, no matter what it does to him. He'll choose the club until it kills him. Until he burns out and blows away like ash on the wind."

"He's unstable and can't be trusted," he said through gritted teeth.

"He's wounded and needs his family. If I have to fucking die to show you where his true loyalties lie, then so be it." She looked away, and her voice became strained. "It's too late anyway," she said. "I'd rather die here, than—"

She broke off before she could say too much. She probably already had.

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him. "What is going on with you? Since when are you so fucking morbid?"

She took a step back and let her lips curve in an acerbic little smile. "Not morbid," she said. "Practical. Talk to the guys. Tell them what happened. Call them off Juice, because I know you've already sic'd them. If you want to call a vote, fine. I just ask that I be there."

"That's not how it's done."

"I don't give a fuck how it's done. It's my life you're talking about. I have a right to face the men who would condemn me."

He was furious enough to strangle her, but he couldn't help but admire her balls. He dropped his chin and huffed out a frustrated laugh. "Fine," he said with weary resignation. "I'll tell them it has to happen tonight, as soon as I leave. Full table."

She hesitated. "You would do that for me?"

"I don't owe you a fucking thing," he said, "but maybe I do owe Juice."

"He's your brother, Jax. He would lie down on train tracks for you. More, he'd tie anyone you asked to those train tracks."

"Even you?"

"Even me."

Again, my plea: TRUST ME. Remember what I said several chapters ago about women dying for manpain and how much I hate it? Yeah. Keep that in mind. KEEP IT VERY MUCH IN MIND because it applies to ALL THE LADIES.