Let me begin by thanking everyone SO MUCH for the lovely reviews for ch43. :D I loved reading them!
More notes at the end. Now. On with the show...
that girl is an answer
to a question
i'm afraid to ask
that girl is an answer
to a question
i'm always afraid to ask
and i'm always
and i'm always
and i'm always afraid
Jeremy Aggers, "The Question"
Once they were back inside Jax pulled Bobby and Chibs aside and filled them in on the conversation. Olivia watched them head upstairs and wondered if she'd just signed her own death warrant. She couldn't regret it. It was too fucking late for that. She'd made her choice, just like she'd told Jax. Of course, her choice had been to lie. To lie for Juice and for Chibs. And now they had a choice to make, and she wanted to ensure Juice, at least, made the right one.
She touched Juice's arm and tilted her head toward the back of the shop. "Help me take out some of this trash?" she said.
He looked puzzled, but he nodded and slid off the stool. Tossed the toy in his hand to Tig and tickled Thomas. Grinned at the little boy's giggles. She watched with the hint of a smile that grew wider when he turned toward her.
"You know you want one," Tig said to her over Juice's head.
Juice had his back to Tig, so the other man didn't see the way his expression changed. She shook her head just a little at the quiet intensity on Juice's face and smiled at Tig. "No thanks. Kids are harder to figure out than the internal combustion engine. I think I'll stick to that."
"That and she already has to keep track of Juice. She doesn't need two kids to take care of," Happy said.
Juice cast a dirty look over his shoulder. "Funny, man."
She gave a rueful shrug. "When he's right he's right, Juicy. C'mon. Let's get that trash before Jax is ready to go."
She spun away before the tears that threatened could get the better of her. In an hour, maybe more, maybe less, these same men would be voting to kill her. One of them would pull the trigger. Maybe Tig. Maybe Happy. Hell, maybe they'd make Juice do it. Hopefully they wouldn't be that cruel, but she honestly had no idea.
Juice followed her to the back, but there were no trash bags. He frowned, but before he could say anything she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the workshop. "What's wrong?" he said after a quick glance at her face.
She pressed her fingers to her eyes and stood very still. Took several long, deep breaths until she was sure she could speak without her voice cracking. "I've done something you're really not going to like."
He studied her with sharp, probing eyes. After everything that had gone down that day he wasn't sure what kind of bombshell she might have for him, but he knew it was bad. Really fucking bad. "What? What did you do, Olivia?"
She let it all out in a rush. "I told Jax you were wasted last night and babbling in your sleep. I said Nero was starting to flip, so I told Nero that I asked you to kill the girl. Because she shot me."
There was a long, incredulous silence. She hurried to fill it.
"I told him Nero didn't seem to believe me, but that wasn't my fault. I told him I tried to protect the club, but ultimately my priority was protecting you. You didn't rat on him; I did."
He could only stare at her, horrified. Tears sprang to his eyes and she brushed her fingers across his mouth as he opened it to speak.
"Just listen, Juice. Please." She told him what Jax had said about the vote, and that she had asked to be there. His expression became harder as she talked, and by the time she was done she was nearly crying again. "The vote is for you, babe. He doesn't give a fuck about me at this point, but he has to know where your loyalties lie."
"Olivia, there's no way—"
"No! Listen to me. You will vote yes. It's the only way, Juice. You have to prove that you care more about the club than you do me. You have to prove that they're your priority, and that you would do anything for them. You have to prove you're as willing to kill me as Jax was to kill Tara."
"Jax wasn't willing to kill Tara!"
"I think he would have, Juice. If y'all hadn't found her in time, I think he might've."
"Fuck," he muttered. He clasped his head in his hands and dropped to kneel on the concrete floor. "Fuck, Olivia. You can't ask me to do this."
She crouched down and grasped his wrists. Gently pried his hands away from his skull and held them. "Listen to me, Juice Ortiz," she said again. "I made a choice. Don't cheapen it by throwing all my work away. You vote yes. You show them where your loyalties lie and shut them up. I don't give a fuck what happens to me. It's you I care about."
"This's my fault. I shouldn't have gone to Diosa. If I'd just come home—"
"It doesn't matter," she said. She tugged him closer. Wrapped her arms around him and stroked the back of his neck. "None of that matters, baby."
"If I vote yes, they'll kill you. I'm the only chance you have at a no."
He couldn't see her face, but he felt her lips move as she grimaced. "You sure know how to comfort a girl at the hour of her death, Juicy."
He grasped her shoulders and pushed her away. Squeezed her arms so hard she yelped. "This isn't funny, Olivia! I voted yes for Clay—twice! I found those papers and took that gun. I was gonna kill that girl! I've done all of that to try to atone, and none of it matters. None of it fucking matters to them. Now you're asking me to throw you to the fucking wolves like you don't matter. How can I do that? How, Liv!?"
"You'll do it because I'm asking you to, Juicy." She pressed her palms to his face. "You'll do it because as much as you loved Clay, and as sad as it was to kill a pretty, lost young woman, all of that pales in comparison to choosing your club over your old lady. It's the line in the sand, babe."
"You're not just an old lady," he said. "You're more than that to this club."
"Yeah, so, maybe I'll get lucky and pull a nay. Maybe they'll remember the buckshot I took or the stitches I've put in them or how many times I've put their bikes back together. Maybe they'll look down at the table and remember I'm the one who patched up the mess Eli made. Or, I don't know, Juice. Maybe none of that'll matter."
She let out a soft sigh and rose. Reached a hand down to him. He looked up at her strong, pale fingers and was reminded forcefully of the scene at Jax' house that afternoon. He'd done the exact same thing to Gemma. But Gemma probably couldn't keep him safe from the club's vengeance if they thought he'd ratted Jax out to Nero. Hell, Gemma was such a mess she could barely keep herself safe. She'd need someone to look out for her over the coming weeks—months, even—and he couldn't do that if he were dead.
And Liv? He could let the club sentence her to death so he could be around to protect Gemma? He accepted her hand and pulled himself to his feet. He needed to tell her about Tara. About Eli. About what he'd done for Gemma. Would she be so willing to sacrifice herself for him if she knew? She loved Tara, and while she respected Gemma, she also didn't trust her. He wondered if she would understand why he'd done it.
Probably. She knew how he'd felt about Clay, and how betraying Clay again and again had led him to such a dark place last night. Gemma was Clay's old lady. The club's mama bear. By protecting Gemma, Juice was trying to make things right with Clay. To do what Clay would have wanted him to do. It was the only thing he had left to offer.
Olivia was right: he had to choose. His loyalties were split three ways, and it was too much. He was tired of the suspicion on Jax' face. Of constantly having to prove himself, even though Jax said he didn't. He was tired of being given the jobs no one else wanted. If he voted the way she wanted him to, if he condemned her, maybe that would stop. They would see how much he loved the club.
They would never know—he would never let them know—how much he loved Olivia Gable. How much that vote would cost him. He would do it because she asked it of him, and because by seemingly choosing the club, it really meant he was choosing her.
Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe they could still run. They could walk out the back door right now and—
He could tell by the look on her face she knew what he was thinking. She said she didn't want to run anymore, and if they left now that's exactly what they'd be doing. For the rest of their lives.
His shoulders slumped and he let out a hard, resigned sigh. "I'll always choose you, Liv," he said. "It's no contest."
"Good," she said. She swiped the wetness from her cheeks and smiled up at him. She wanted to say more, but she couldn't find the words. More tears fell, and he brushed them away with his thumb.
"Why are you doing this, Olivia? Why would you be so ready to die?"
He knew, though. The postcards. The one at Tara's house had been blank, so he figured she must've gotten some already that weren't. She'd been about to tell him something this morning before Jax called. Could it have been that? He thought so. He wondered if she'd tell him now.
It was the same question Jax asked her. From him it was something she could deflect, but from Juice it hit home. She took a step back, shying away from his touch, and dropped his gaze. "I'm not. It's not like I'm looking forward to this. I'm hoping someone votes no. It just can't be you."
His eyes narrowed. "That's a big fucking risk to take."
She disregarded that with a flick of her fingers. "I've been living on borrowed time since I did this," she said and tapped her wrist. "Not because I was trying to die that night, but because I knew eventually all that old shit would catch up with me. You can't run forever."
There was a cold hollowness in her tone that sent a shiver through him. Before he could form a reply, the door opened.
"There you are," Chucky said. "Jax is about to leave. I know you didn't want to miss saying goodbye."
Juice didn't take his eyes off Olivia. "Thanks, Chucky," he said.
Olivia brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and squared her shoulders. "Right behind you," she said.
His look darted from Juice to her and back again, but at last he nodded. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but for once he resisted the urge and disappeared back inside.
She started toward the door, but Juice grabbed her hand. "I love you, Olivia, and you're mine."
She spun around and into his arms. Held his face in her hands and kissed him hard. "I love you too, Juan Carlos. You're mine, and that's never gonna change. No matter how the vote falls out."
Olivia stayed in the shop with Chucky as Jax and the guys said goodbye out on the sidewalk. They watched as Jax hugged each of them in turn, and she heard Chucky sniffle more than once. When Jax hugged Juice, she saw him whisper something…and the look on Juice's face when they pulled apart made her heart stutter. She let out a soft curse and wrapped her arms around her middle.
She knew she wouldn't have a chance to ask him about it, either, because as soon as Jax' bike disappeared around the corner, the glass door opened and the guys filed back in. Chibs handed Thomas off to Chucky and Bobby got Abel settled at a table with his coloring book and some crayons, and then the new club president nodded toward her.
"Ollie, lass," Chibs said, "we should have a chat."
He gestured for her to lead the way upstairs, and she could hear their heavy tread on the stairs behind her. Her hands shook. Had she miscalculated? Was all this for nothing? If Jax hadn't bought her lie then they would kill Juice anyway. There was a chance—a tiny chance, but still a chance—that someone would vote no for her, but once they heard Juice's story, he was as good as dead.
She rubbed her palms against the thighs of her jeans as the club settled around the long redwood table. The guys who didn't know what was going on—that is, everyone except Bobby, Chibs, and Juice—looked confused, and they kept casting her curious, sidelong glances.
"All right, boys, settle down," Bobby said. He clapped the gavel and an instant hush fell. "I'm gonna cut right to it. Before he left, Jax brought a possible problem to our attention." He drew in a long breath and glanced carefully at each man in turn. "It seems we might have a rat on our hands."
"Tara?" Tig said. "No, Jax said—"
"Not Tara," Chibs interrupted.
He lifted his head and pinned Olivia with a gimlet eye. Several seconds passed as they made sense of it, and slowly each of them turned to stare at her. Their expressions ranged from disbelief to dawning anger and everything in between. She clenched her hands behind her back so they wouldn't see their trembling and squared her shoulders.
"Olivia," Bobby said, his voice heavy, "you wanna tell us what went down last night?"
She lifted a brow. Her voice was cool and calm when she spoke, and it gave no indication of her fear. "I told Nero I asked Juice to kill that girl. The one who shot me. The school shooter's mother."
"Wait, hang on," Tig said. "That girl OD'd." He spun around in his chair. "Right, Juicy? You gave her the dose. It was an accident."
Juice's eyes flicked from Olivia to Tig, and he shook his head. "No. Jax ordered me to kill her. I gave her the drugs and then I smothered her with a pillow."
"Jax did that?" Happy said.
"He didn't bring it to the table!" said Tig.
"He told Nero it was an accidental OD," said Juice, "but that was a lie."
Chibs cleared his throat. "Jax made a rash decision, and then he lied about it. That's an issue we'll have to sort out with Nero." He paused. "Also, to clarify, Juicy didn't kill her. I did, so he wouldn't have to."
Happy snorted. "I'm the fuckin' sergeant at arms. Why didn't Jax have me do it?"
Chibs lifted his hands in a shrug. "He wanted to keep it a secret, lad. But it wasn't Juice's responsibility to do the club's dirty work."
"I don't understand," Tig said. "How'd you find out? Did Jax tell you?"
Chibs' eyes met Olivia's for a brief second. Then, "I walked in at the wrong time. Jax doesn't know I was involved."
The room exploded, and Bobby cracked the gavel to quiet them. "Did you know all this, Olivia?"
"I did," she said, evenly.
"And you didn't tell Nero that part?"
She scowled. "Why the fuck would I bring Chibs' name into it? Obviously Juice was involved, and me, and Jax because he calls the shots, but no one mentioned Chibs. No reason to muck it up even more."
There was a pause. Chibs shifted in his chair and avoided her gaze. There was precious little he could do to help her at this point, and he knew she would never have mentioned his involvement and how she'd covered it up. It was the only lifeline he could offer, and the only excuse the club would accept if he ultimately voted nay.
"Nero wouldn't have known any of it if you hadn't told him it wasn't an OD," Bobby said.
"Why would you tell him that?" Tig said, his face twisted. "This club's been good to you. Jax has been good to you. Why would you go behind his back like that?"
"First, I didn't set out to betray Jax or the club. Like I said, I told him I asked Juice to kill her." She patted her hip. "Because she shot me."
"And he just didn't believe you?" Rat said.
"I guess not."
"Hence the issue today," Bobby said with a heavy sigh. He waved a hand. "I'm confused. How did this topic even come up? You guys were just shootin' the shit and you said, 'Oh, by the way, about that girl you were so protective of…'?"
"It was because of me," Juice said before she could reply. "I got drunk last night, high as shit, and I went to Diosa." He tapped his fingers against the table. "Gemma called Olivia because I was so fucked up I passed out."
There was a ripple of laughter and snorts around the table.
"Yeah, it was fuckin' hilarious," he said. "I guess while I was out of it I said something about the girl."
"He told Nero he was sorry for what happened to her," Olivia said.
They all spun toward her like they were watching a tennis match.
"Nero flipped. He was ready to go beat Jackson's face in right then. I got him calmed down and told him Juice did it for me."
"You couldn't've just told him Juice was fucked up and felt guilty that he gave her the shot that caused the OD?" Bobby said.
Her lips curved. "He didn't buy that I asked Juice to do it. You think he woulda bought that pile of bullshit? Please. Nero is smart, and he's already had it up to here with the club's—specifically Jackson's—fuckery. What happened to Clay hit him hard. I was there last night; y'all weren't."
"But you didn't mention Chibs?" Tig asked again.
"I already told you I didn't. Did Jax mention Chibs when he told you all of this?" she said to Bobby.
"No. His name didn't come into it."
She made a like I said gesture. "Look. I'm not making excuses. I should've kept my mouth shut. But Juice had no idea what he was saying. He was barely even conscious. Nero was starting to ask questions, and I figured it would be better if I intervened before he could say too much without even realizing it."
"So what we've learned here is that Juice drinks like a little bitch," Happy said.
"Fuck you, man," he said. "It was a full bottle of Cuervo."
"Thank you, Olivia," Bobby said. "We'll deliberate and have a vote, and we'll let you know our decision."
She shot Juice a quick look. "I thought—that is, Jax said—"
"Jax isn't here, lass," Chibs said. "He asked for a vote, so we're givin' you one. He left everything else up to us."
She wasn't stupid enough to protest again. "Thank you for hearing me out," she said. She turned smartly on her heel and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her, and headed downstairs.
A deep silence followed her exit. Finally, Happy said, "We're seriously gonna vote on an old lady?"
"She's been an asset to this club longer than she's been an old lady," Bobby said in a low rumble.
"So we'd vote on Chucky?" Rat said.
"Chucky becomes an old lady, a mechanic, a medic, tries his damnedest to get us outta RICO, and takes a hip full of buckshot, we'll see. Besides, Jax asked for a vote. I told him we'd do it. So here we are." Bobby turned his attention to Juice. "Did it happen like she said?"
He sighed and ran a hand over his head. "Man, I don't know. I don't remember. I was havin' this weird dream about bein' at church, and the priest kept hittin' me in the face."
"I'm guessin' Nero was the priest," Chibs said with a snort.
Juice shrugged. "He was really brown."
"Okay, okay," Tig said with a wave of his hand. "So the issue is whether or not we kill Ollie for telling Nero…what? A lie?"
"A lie that was still too close to the truth," Happy said. "She didn't have to tell him anything. She coulda just said Juice was full of shit and then dragged him outta there before he could say anything else."
"I was basically unconscious, Hap. You coulda dragged me outta there, but she's barely over five feet."
"A rat's a rat, no matter how tall they are," Happy said. "I say we vote."
A brief, heavy silence. Then, "All for Olivia Gable meeting Mr. Mayhem?" Bobby said. He pointed at Tig to get them started.
Tig, startled and momentarily taken aback by this breach of protocol, rubbed a hand down his face and shook his head. "Fuck. I don't like it, but…yea."
Happy: yea.
Rat: yea.
And on it went, around the table. Juice barely hesitated before he put in his yea vote, though if his voice thickened they all pretended not to notice.
When it was his turn Chibs scowled down at the table. Olivia should have kept her mouth shut. He hated a fuckin' rat. At this point how she felt about Juice made her a liability more than an asset.
All of that was true, and it mattered. But Chibs couldn't forget how she'd stood up for them before. He couldn't discount the fact that she'd left him out of it. If she'd told Nero that part, and Nero had taken it to Jax—well. It would have seriously undermined Jax' faith in his second, and the club was already hanging by a thread.
He shook his head and knocked his knuckles against the table. "Nay. She's earned another chance."
Bobby's head had been bowed during the entire process. Technically, since Chibs had already voted no, his vote was moot. But he wanted them to know how he felt about it. Now he lifted his chin and made a careful study of each man around the table. He winced when he shifted in his seat, the movement tugging at his stitches, and maybe it was that reminder that did it. He owed her his life. Tara, too, because she'd been the one actually cutting…but if Ollie hadn't been there with her steady hands and her quiet calm, he probably would've bled out in the back of that truck before Tara could help him at all.
"Nay," he said, his voice gruff. He banged the gavel and coughed. "It's not unanimous. No Mayhem for Olivia."
"So that's it?" Happy said. "She rats and no consequences?"
"I didn't say that," Bobby said.
Tig pushed away from the table, hands raised. "I'm not beatin' a woman. A bullet in the head is one thing, but I won't fuckin' beat her, man."
"No," Juice said, "a beating wouldn't work anyway." He made a face as they stared at him. "I don't mean I know from personal experience. I just mean she's—it would just piss her off. You're talkin' about a woman who stabbed a guy in the foot with a hip half full of buckshot. She got that tattoo on her wrist to cover up scars because eight years ago she sliced her own wrist open with a fucking steak knife so she could get locked in a psych ward to escape her crazy ex. And we all know what happened to him."
"All right, Romeo," Bobby said, "since you know her so well, what would you recommend?"
He drummed his fingers against the table as he considered. Finally, "Cut her hair."
"Her hair?" Happy said into the incredulous silence. "What are we, fuckin' Paul Mitchell?"
"Her hair is like that for a reason," Juice said patiently. "Her mom died when Olivia was fifteen, and as soon as she got away from the psycho ex, she started growing her hair out. To look like her mother, and because he made her keep it short. It's not just hair to her."
His jaw was tight as he spoke, and he wondered if he were making a huge mistake. She would be furious. Hurt. Betrayed. But it wouldn't physically hurt her, and it would grow back. Hopefully she would understand why he'd suggested it. He didn't want her beaten. He didn't know what the other options were, and he didn't want to consider them. He knew they wouldn't consider any form of sexual violence—that wasn't something any of them would ever do—but there were a lot of ways a man could damage a woman, especially a woman like Olivia. She was tough, but not nearly as tough as she pretended.
"Some of us are really attached to our hair, Hap," Tig said.
"It sounds stupid, but trust me. It's a message she'll—not appreciate, exactly—but understand. It'll get the point across."
"Okay," Bobby said after a moment. "All in favor?"
A chorus of muted yeas sounded, and Bobby banged the gavel. He pointed it at Juice. "You're up, lover boy."
He opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again, hard. Of course it had to be him. Would they have made him kill her if the vote had fallen out that way? He hoped to hell not. He gave a grim nod and rose. Silence followed him out the door and down the stairs, and he stopped a moment to catch his breath before he stepped into the shop.
So, well. No Mayhem, but this probably isn't gonna be pretty.
I do think many of you will be VERY SURPRISED by some things that happen next chapter. That makes me giddy with excite.
Also, originally Bobby was the only nay vote, but then I rearranged some things and basically made Chibs' behavior over the s6 arc actually, ya know. In character. So by now I couldn't really see him voting yea. Especially after she covered for him.