A long update! I've added and taken out a few things, so be aware that the rest of the story might be slightly off-kilter until the updates are complete!
A week or so later found Mac hanging out in the TM garage, waiting for Chibs and Gemma.
Jax had come through in a big way, bringing her and Tara out to a makeshift range in the desert. Jax had made sure Tara was comfortable with her pistol, and Mac had had the opportunity to play with some of the other toys the guys had brought with them. The afternoon had ended after a particularly skilled rifle shot.
"Mackenzie, luv'," Chibs had whispered to her, "I've go' a hard on the size of tha' rifle. Can we go somewhere else?"
That had been all the encouragement Mac had needed.
Of course, Tig had heard him, which meant that now Mac was enduring some good-natured teasing.
"I mean, the two of you could make a porno." he said. "It'd be an excellent amateur."
Mac, feet up on a stack of tires, rolled her eyes. Happy was on the other side of the car, laughing his ass off.
"Keep dreaming." she said.
But she appreciated the teasing, in a strange way.
Their fun in the desert had cemented the tentative friendship they'd struck. Tig was slightly afraid of her, which was definitely good, and Happy respected her. They both made her laugh, and didn't give a damn about her job or her past. Mac listened to them jibe at one another, relaxed, until Chibs walked into the garage and made a beeline for her.
Mac took her feet off the stack of tires, allowing him to walk right up between her legs. He kissed her hello, warm and soft.
"What're you doin' here, luv'?" he asked.
"Waiting for Gemma." Mac said. "And hoping to see you. Gem's invited me to lunch."
Chibs nodded.
"Club business today?"
"An' I go'a get back to it. Jus' wanted to come an' say hi."
He kissed her again, and didn't stop until someone clear their throat behind them.
Gemma.
"Hey guys." she said, smiling.
"Hey Gem." Mac said, hopping off the table. "How are ya?"
Chibs gave Gemma a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting.
"I'll see ya later, luv'." he said to Mac, brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He gave her a crooked grin, and disappeared back into the clubhouse.
"I'm good, sweetie." Gemma said. "Listen, I gotta take care of some business before we eat, that alright?"
Mac nodded.
The business turned out to be at Caracara, which was, Mac quickly realized, a porn studio. It made sense that they would have some honest cover with which to make money, she rationalized, and she should've expected it would be something like porn. It had Tig and Juice written all over it.
While Gemma sat with Luann, Mac perused the art that decorated the walls. Most of it was nudity for the sake of nudity - eye-catching, lewd, meant to sell the video, not the art. But there were a few well-done, more tasteful boudoir style shots. Someone in the studio had skill.
"Mackenzie!" Gemma called, standing. "We're gone here. You ready to go?"
Mac nodded, waving goodbye to Luann.
They ate at a diner on the edge of Charming. When Gemma had invited her, Mac knew it was just a social call. Gemma wanted information.
"So." she said eventually. "Talk to me about Chibs."
Mac smirked.
"It's good." she said. "Easy. Just keeping each other company."
That was only part of the truth, but Gemma would jump on any piece of information.
"Clay told me you have a past. One you won't share with him."
Mac shrugged.
"Chibs knows. He'd tell the guys if he thought it'd make any difference. Honestly, they'll find out eventually. But it's not a fun story to tell. Or hear."
Gemma nodded.
"In any case, Clay trusts Chibs - and apparently you - enough not to press. I'm a little less trusting."
Mac tipped her chin up.
"But I think you've earned some of it." Gemma continued. "What you've done for the club isn't easily forgotten. And I have no doubt you'll be useful again in the future."
Mac didn't respond, allowing her eyes to harden. She did not like the implication in Gemma's words. She wasn't some croweater, easily bullied and cowed by the biker queen. Mac would do exactly what she wanted to, and not a thing more.
Gemma looked away first.
"You bo good to Chibs, though, you hear me?" Gemma said eventually. "And you make sure he'd good to you. That man has been lonely for too damn long. You might now know - "
"I do." Mac interrupted. "I know all of it."
"Well, good, then." Gemma said, knocked out of her rhythm. "Then you know he doesn't deserve any more sadness than he's already had."
Mac just nodded, not speaking as the waitress came over with their order. When she'd left, Gemma jumped to a different topic.
"Tell me about Tara."
Mac sighed, significantly more hesitant.
"What do you want to know? We met in college. We were in and out of contact for years, until this opportunity in Charming opened up."
"Look, I'll be honest." Gemma said. "I don't love the girl. I certainly don't trust her, and I don't see how she could be right for Jax. She left him. What's more, she doesn't respect the club, and wants nothing to do with it."
"I think Tara is not the same person that left Charming." Mac said slowly. "We've talked a lot about it - about what it means to be an old lady, how these guys live by their own moral code. Honestly, Gemma, I think she loves him. She'd choose him in a heartbeat. But it wouldn't be just choosing him, it'd be choosing the club, too."
Gemma nodded.
"But, as Jax's mother, that should make you unbelievably happy, Gemma. Your baby boy has a girl who loves him. She's not obsessed with the club or the status or the money, but with the guy. It's real, too. You can't fake that kind of emotion, and you can't avoid it. It's the kind of love that just sits in your heart and waits for you to die."
"Anyways, I think she's getting there. Tara knows my story, and she's still my best friend, which means something. That acceptance is huge. But the reality is, the danger in my life isn't in hers. The danger in Jax's life would be. You must understand how that feels, how it took some time to get used to it. Give her time. Stop trying to scare her away."
"I see." Gemma said. "I can't pretend to like her, not until I actually do. But I can see your point. There are too many girls out for fame and wealth."
She eyed Mac.
"I starting to think you're a good influence on her."
Mac laughed.
"I do what I can. I think they're well suited for one another. Can you agree to let it be? Wait and see? Tara's not doing any harm. They're both adults, let them figure it out. They have time - it's not like they're getting married tomorrow. Plus, she's Abel's doctor, and however you may feel about her personally, she's doing a spectacular job looking after the boy."
Gemma nodded.
"Fair enough. I can't deny that."
She sighed.
"Fine, I can wait and see."
Mac just nodded. Detente, at least for the time being.
—
She awoke to an unfamiliar room, wrapped in sheets that smelled of Chibs instead of herself.
The previous night's party had been wild, though she and Chibs had missed most of it in favor of some alone time. Mac groaned, rolling out of bed to find a shower and some coffee. Chibs must've been up and out early, his side of the bed long since gone cold.
Later, she found Clay, Bobby, Tig, Chibs, and Juice out back of the garage, near the ring that Half-Sack had shown her one day. The prospect in question was currently beating the shit out of one of the TM mechanics, watched carefully by the guys. On the other side of the ring, there was a crow eater with long brown hair and Mac didn't recognize.
Chibs motioned her over, patting the seat next to him. Mac joined him with a kiss.
"Half-Sack told me you guys were training him." she said.
"Yeah." Clay growled. "Chibby here has been trying. It's not easy."
She turned to Chibs.
"I can help you out with that."
The guys snickered, but Mac just shrugged.
"Sack is small." she said. "None of you are small enough to understand how fast he'll have to be."
That shut them up. Chibs eyed here.
"Aright." he said. The rest of the guys looked at him, surprised. Hey, you saw her handle that rifle the last time we went shooting. I wouldn't put anything past her."
Even Tig had to nod at that.
"Who's the girl?" Mac asked.
"Just some sweetbutt. Cherry, I think." Clay said, too easily. "Says she's here for the prospect, but we're gonna keep an eye on her."
Mac nodded. She didn't really need to know anymore, but judging by the way the prospect kept looking at the brunette, it definitely wasn't one-sided.
"Well, let's go then, lassie." Chibs said, standing. "The kid needs all the help he can get."
"Hey." Clay said, pointing at Chibs. "No booze, no weed, and no pussy. Got it?"
Chibs put his hands up.
"I'll do ma best!"
They walked over to the ring, where the mechanics now had pads attached to his hands, bobbing and weaving to make himself a more difficult target for Half-Sack. Chibs called for him to stop.
"My turn, prospect."
He ducked under the ropes.
"Lassie, feel free to yell at 'im when he needs it."
Mac nodded, watching the sweetbutt move forward out of the corner of her eye.
They began slowly, and Mac gathered that Half-Sack wasn't bad, just a little arrogant, and too slow. She hung herself over the ropes as they fought at various speeds, yelling out tips and tricks, pointing out where speed would save him, while strength would hurt him.
Eventually, the rest of their audience gathered around.
"Whadya think?" Juice asked.
Mac shrugged.
"He's not bad." she said. "I dunno what he's up against, but as long as they're not too much better than Chibs - "
Mac winced as Chibs socked Half-Sack in the stomach.
"Well, Chibs is bigger. Sack is like me - smaller, but faster. Maybe not as smart."
She grinned.
"I dunno." Tig said. "I kinda wanna make you back that up."
Mac raised an eyebrow.
"Let's go, then." she said, almost eager. Tig started towards her, but was stopped by Clay's hand on his shoulder.
"Woah, there." he said. "You got a job to do."
Tig looked genuinely put out, and Clay grinned.
"I'm sure you'll get a chance." he said.
Half-Sack, who had finally admitted defeat, crawled over to them. Chibs stood beside him. Mac motioned him down. She had plans for the afternoon, and needed to get going.
"I gotta go, Filip." she said. "But I wanna be at that fight. Whatever you're planning for that poor kid."
Chibs chuckled.
"Aye, alright."
He kissed her firmly, then released her with a smack on the ass.
Mac just rolled her eyes, and flipped him off, smiling wide.
—
When Mac dressed for Half-Sack's fight, she went with armor.
Not in the literal sense, but it felt the same to her. Black everything - jeans, CAT boots, SOA shirt, thick leather jacket - the type you wear to protect yourself from roadrash. She slid a knife in each boot, her Glock in the jacket's inside pocket, and a smaller gun at her back. She jammed her hair into a messy braid, and slid on dark sunglasses - despite the fact that it was already evening.
She wasn't looking to stand out. Chibs had told her enough for Mac to know that. The club was looking to pull something - Half-Sack wasn't doing this for fun.
Well, not only for fun.
When she and Chibs pulled in on his bike, the rest of the Sons were already there. They were jumping around, messing with Half-Sack, getting him loose and ready.
"Wha's the plan?" Mac asked him.
"Six fights." Chibs said quietly. "Firs' five he wins, the las' he goes down. We're bettin' against 'im."
Mac nodded. She guessed that no one had told Half-Sack yet, knowing he would need the positivity to win the first five fights.
The building was raucous on the inside, and the chaos helped to hide Mac within the crowd, for which she was grateful. It allowed her to slip up to the side of the ring, her raised hood mostly hiding her from the growing crowd.
Initially, the fights went very well. Half-Sack fought eagerly, with Chibs and Bobby in his corner for support. Mac yelled encouragement and advice when it was necessary, but the guys the prospect was fighting were not smart. He did well against them, and the guys were happy.
As the break before the final bout wound down, Mac saw four different things, all at the same time.
First, Chibs had finally told Half-Sack that he had to throw the last fight for the club, and the prospect did not look happy. Second, the guy Half-Sack was supposed to fight next looked terrible. It would take a miracle to make his win believable. Third, Clay had taked a seat ring-side, watching eagerly. And fourth… Cherry had just walked in.
When the sweetbutt took a seat next to Clay, Mac swore.
"Bobby!" she called. "Keep Half-Sack focused!"
She didn't wait for a response before pushing he way towards Clay and Cherry, who were now leaning in towards one another, talking quietly. Mac grabbed the girl by the arm, and dragged her outside. There was enough cursing in her wake that she knew she'd made a scene, but the truth was that no one in there was focused on anything other than the upcoming fight.
When they were outside - well out of Half-Sack's sight - Mac let Cherry go.
"What the fuck?" she asked, rubbing at her upper arm.
Clay came jogging out after them.
"What happened?" he asked.
Mac bared her teeth.
"That boy in there, at a moment where he needs to be focused and not reactionairy, is gonna look over in the middle of that fight and see the two of you looking just a bit too cozy. What do you imagine Half-Sack will do? Cause I think he's gonna get angry, and take that anger out on the guy who needs to win."
She raised a brow, eyes boreing into Clay's. Clay sighed, running a hand down his face.
"Fuck." he mumbled. "You're right. Damn kid would've seen red. I have half a mind to blame this on you - you and Chibs trained him too well."
Mac snorted.
"Don't worry, Sack knows how to lose. Chibs taught him that, too."
Clay chuckled. Cherry looked completely confused, but she kept her questions to herself.
"In any case, you just saved the club a lot of money. You have our thanks."
Mac just nodded. A few seconds later, the makeshift arena erupted into cheers. She sighed.
"Poor kid. He must really want it."
Clay just shook his head.
"He'll make a fine brother." he said.
He lifted his cigar in silent celebration as they waited for the victorious losers to come find them.
When they did, Mac saw that Half-Sack was already plastered. He looked slightly put out, but proud to have done something right for the club, and thrilled that Cherry was there for the aftermath.
"Bobby," Clay called, "get this somewhere safe."
Their winnings had been stuffed in a black duffle that Clay now handed to Bobby.
"Half-Sack," Clay said, to the group at large, "you've done us a real favor. Well done."
The prospect blushed, and Mac grinned. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, and she turned to see Chibs, a sharp smile on his face.
"Wanna go home?" he murmured to her intently.
Mac nodded. She turned to congratulate Half-Sack one last time.
"Thanks to you, too." Clay said to her quietly when she turned back. Mac nodded again.
"Anytime, Clay."
Chibs handed her her helmet, and Mac smiled.
"Let's get out of here, Filip."
—
For a few days, the club was strangely quiet.
Mac knew the money from the fight had solved something, though she didn't know what. But recently, it seemed like the club had a hydra problem - fix one issue, and two more appear. She could see the result in the stress lines that had carved themselves into Chibs' face.
Tonight, she'd left him to it, having planned a dinner out with Tara. But when they arrived home, flushed with wine and laughter, Mac stopped in the doorway.
Even single instinct was screaming at her, though there was nothing visibly amiss.
"Say here." Mac murmured, walking into the house alone.
She made a loop around the kitchen and the living room, but still saw nothing out of place. She turned back to Tara, motioning for her to shut the door.
That was a mistake.
In front of her, Tara's face collapsed, almost in slow motion. First, to surprise, which quickly transformed to sheer terror. Her eyes were fixed over Mac's shoulder, but before Mac could turn to see for herself, the click of a safety echoed in her ear.
"Turn and walk into the bedroom." Kohn said. "Nice and slowly."
Mac didn't move, face gone hard.
"Now." Kohn said loudly.
Mac's eyes narrowed, and it took the fear on Tara's face to convince her to do as he said. Tara followed behind her. At gunpoint, Kohn had Tara close and lock the door before handing her a roll of duct tape.
"Tape her to the chair." he said, motioning at Mac.
Tara's dark eyes met hers, questioningly. Mac nodded slightly, telling Tara to do as he said. Mac allowed herself to be seated in the chair in the corner of the room, and Tara taped her arms down to the armrests. Mac tried not to focus on the way Tara's hands shook violently.
"Mouth as well." Kohn said.
When Kohn was satisfied with Mac's bonds, he grabbed Tara and led her to the bed. He was talking quietly, but Mac was only half listening.
Instead, she was taking stock.
Kohn had fucked up from the moment he'd handed Tara the duct tape.
First, Mac still had her boots and jacket on, which meant she had two knives and a gun, if she could get to them. The moron hadn't thought to search them for weapons. There was also Kohn's gun, which might be a better option. He'd set it down on the bedside table closest to her. Kohn had also chosen duct tape, which lost it's grip with sweat, and Mac had plenty of experience wiggling her way out of it. It helped too that he'd had Tara tape her down. Tara, her friend, who had not taped her anywhere near tightly enough.
Mac tried to wiggle subtly, thinking through the timing.
She saw her opportunity when Kohn pinned Tara to the bed, climbing on top of her. He didn't notice anything as Mac slipped her wrists out and peeled the tape off her mouth.
But Tara did.
As soon as Mac stood, Tara moved.
She slammed her knee into Kohn's crotch, hard, causing him to rear up. Tara followed him, and aimed a solid punch at his nose.
He screamed, blood exploding. Tara's hit had been good and true. He swore, voice muffled with pain, and reached for the gun he'd left on the table.
Mac got there first.
She twisted her body, trying to line up to Tara's angle, and shot him once in the head. Tara screamed, slapping a hand over her mouth.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Shit shit shit…" Tara mumbled, repeatedly.
Kohn's body toppled backwards and off the bed. Mac set the gun back down, and checked that he was truly dead, eyes open and lifeless.
Tara was still cursing behind her. Mac turned towards her friend, realizing that she was in shock, shaking violently while she tried to dial her phone.
"Wait - " Mac began, but Tara had pressed send.
Mac guessed Jax.
He picked up on the third ring, but all that Tara could get out was "K-k-kohn… g-gun… oh g-god…"
Her chattering teeth made her incomprehensible, so Mac grabbed the phone.
"Tara? Tara?"
"Jax, it's Mac."
"Oh Jesus, Mac, what the hell is going on?"
"We went out tonight. When we got back, Kohn was waiting for us. For Tara. He tried some shit, and I shot him. Tara's in shock, but physically fine. We do have a real problem, though, Jax. The gun I used was Kohn's, but no one's gonna believe the hole in his head was put there by Tara. It looks professional."
Jax swore violently, seeing Mac's point.
"I'm on my way."
He hung up, looking down on the scene in front of him.
Cameron Hayes was splayed out face down on the big conference table while Chibs tried to dig a bullet out of his ass.
"I gotta go." Jax said. "Tara's ex attacked her and Mac. Mac shot him, but she did too good of a job. We'll have to get rid of the body."
Now it was Chibs' turn to swear. His hand spasmed, and Cameron yelled in pain.
"Jackie boy, ya take care of Mackenzie!" he yelled to Jax. "Bring them here if ya can!"
"Will do, brother."
Jax left, and Chibs continued to curse under his breath.
He knew full well that Mac could handle herself, but he'd give a lot to be going after her right now, instead of having to deal with the bloody mick with a bullet in his ass.
—
Tara was much calmer by the time Jax arrived.
Mac had coaxed her friend out to the living room, sat her down, and forced her to drink some water. She had plenty of experience walking people through shock, and Tara hadn't actually had to shoot the gun.
It could've been worse.
Jax walked in, and immediately grabbed Tara in a hug. Mac nodded at him, and went to get started cleaning up. She grabbed trash bags, twine, and more duct tape, and began to wrap Kohn's body so that they could transport him without a mess.
As she worked, she listened to Jax and Tara talking about what had happened.
When the body was ready, Mac dragged it into the hallway. She cleaned up the duct tape that had been her bonds, grabbed the comforter that had Kohn's blood on it, and tossed it all out with the body. They would have to burn it.
Jax walked in as she was scrubbing the blood off the floor - luckily hardwood. With a liberal application of bleach, the evidence would be all but gone. Realistically, Mac didn't think anyone would be searching Tara's bedroom very hard anytime soon, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
"Thank you, Mac." Jax said.
"Hey, he attacked me, too." she said, tossing the bloody bleach rags onto the pile to be burnt.
Jax stepped forward, and wrapped her in a hug. Surprised but pleased, Mac returned it.
"What should we do with him?" she asked.
"We'll put him in the trunk. I brought the car. Bring the other stuff, too. We'll burn it at the clubhouse."
"Tara." Jax called, walking out into the living room. "Think you can do the club a favor?"
Tara looked wary.
"What, exactly?"
"We need any medical supplies you have - gauze, antibiotics, anesthetics, stuff for stitches."
"Sounds like you need a doctor as well." Mac said. "What happened?"
"There's a guy with two bullets in his ass at the clubhouse, bullets meant for Clay."
At any other time, Tara might've been horrified. But at that moment, it appeared that she'd already had all the horror she could bear. She simply nodded, and headed to the closet to get her med kit.
"You do need a doctor. Let's get going."
"Mac, you should come too. Chibs will wanna see you."
Mac nodded, hoisting up the trash bag of evidence and walking out towards Jax's car.
—
The clubhouse was less chaotic than Mac expected, given the circumstances.
That was, until Jax opened the door to the chapel, and showed them inside.
It was… about as bad as she expected.
A man she didn't recognize was face-down on the table, yelling in pain despite the empty liquor bottles around him, clearly a rudimentary anesthetic. Chibs and Juice were leaning over his ass, hands covered in blood, looking more like they were doing damage control than solving any problems.
They both looked relieved the moment Tara walked in, scrubs on and carrying her med kit.
"Oh merciful god." Chibs said. "Thank god ya there, Doc. This is way outta my wheelhouse. Way out!"
Watching closely, Mac saw the mask of concentration that covered Tara's features. She relaxed slightly, feeling fairly certain that her friend would be okay.
"Chibs," Tara said, snapping on a pair of gloves, "you can move your hands. Go was them and come back - I'm going to need your help. Juice, stay right where you are for a little while longer."
Chibs spared a brief smile for Mac before doing as Tara had instructed.
"Here, Jax." Tara continued, handing him a bottle of pills. "It's a strong antibiotic; should kill just about anything. Give him two."
Jax moved to the stranger's head, and Mac followed. She knelt down by his head, roughly at eye level. From his yelling, Mac had judged his accent to be Irish, and she vaguely remembered Chibs complaining recently about a "mick."
"Cad is ainm duit?" she asked. (What is your name?)
The man looked up, befuddled shock on his face.
"Tá Gaeilge agat?" he asked. (You speak Irish?)
Mac nodded.
"Cameron is ainm dom." (My name is Cameron.)
"Mackenzie. Go deas bualadh leat, mar atá sé." (Nice to meet you, such as it is.)
Chibs returned, snapping on gloves as well before he switched places with Juice. Cameron groaned with the action.
"An bhfuil Gaeilge agat? Tá ainm Gaeigle agat." (Are you Irish, Mackenzie? You have and Irish name.)
Mac laughed.
"B'fhéidir áit éigin ar ais, ach ní go díeach." (Maybe way back, but not directly.)
Cameron nodded against the table, grunting as Tara plunged a syringe in a few places around the bullet wounds.
"Ní hé seo an bealach is fearr liom bualadh le cailín deas." he said. (This is not my favorite way to meet a pretty girl).
Mac laughed again, deciding to humor him. Keeping him distracted until the local anesthetic kicked in seemed like a good idea.
"Is maith an chéad tuiscint é mar aon." she said, picking up one of the liquor bottles. (It's as good of a first impression as any.)
"Keep drinking. It'll help."
Cameron did as she said.
"An raibh tú go hÉirinn, Mackenzie?" (Have you ever been to Ireland, Mackenzie?)
"Cinnte." Mac replied, smiling. "Baile Átha Cliath, Corcaigh, Dungloe, Béal Feirste, Doire. Daoine eile nach cuimhin liom." (Sure. Dublin, Cork, Dungloe, Delfast, Derry. Others I can't remember.)
Cameron smiled.
"Doire, aye?" he asked. "Déanann sé sin Náisiünach a théamh." (Derry, aye? That does warm a Nationalist's heart.)
Mac looked down curiously.
She was well familiar with Irish nationalism, but how curious that the Son's had dealings with vocal Irish separatists. Mac would hazard a guess that Cameron was IRA, likely in the States to deal, probably guns.
She looked up, watching Chibs catch the thoughtful look on her face. She knew Chibs wasn't fluent in Irish, but somehow he still seemed aware of what Cameron had just told her.
Mac sighed, looking back down as Cameron groaned again.
"Tiocfaidh ár lá." she murmured, very quietly. Goosebumps rose over her body.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chibs stiffen. She kept her gaze firmly on Cameron.
It was Peter that had taught her the IRA slogan, having picked it up on some mission, though he had distorted and bastardized it's meaning. He'd used it regularly, to talk about those he'd believed had wronged him.
Mac used it now to comfort the man on the table, judging correctly that Cameron would appreciate the sentiment, far from home as he was.
Of course, he was too far gone to really notice, but he still sighed in happy recognition, obviously feeling less and less pain with each passing moment. The mix of liquor and meds was finally working it's way into his bloodstream.
Mac stood, knees groaning, and pulled up a chair. Thinking of Peter, it was like she'd summoned his ghost to haunt her. And Cameron. So she sat heavily, deciding to keep an eye on the Irishman while Chibs and Tara worked.
—
It was almost dawn when Gemma joined them.
Tara was just putting the finishing touches on Cameron's bullet wounds, the Irishman long since passed out, feeling no pain. Mac had been dozing on and off while Tara and Chibs worked, keeping a tired eye on the patient.
"I'm done here." Tara announced, snapping off her gloves and tossing them in the trash.
"Gemma, I'm telling you this since I'm not honestly sure anyone else will remember."
Gemma nodded.
"He gets one of those pills every six hours, and I'll be around to change his dressing once a day. If he doesn't get an infection, he'll be sore, but fine."
"I think we can keep track of that." Gemma said.
"I'm gonna go wash my hands." Tara said.
Chibs followed her out, motioning to Mac.
"Will you keep an eye on him, Gem?" Mac asked.
"Sure."
Gemma took Mac's vacated seat, and Mac followed Chibs and Tara to the kitchen. They poured coffee from a pot that Gemma must've started, because everyone else besides Jax was passed out.
"How are you doing?" Mac asked Tara, nudging her friend.
"It feels like a fever dream." Tara replied. "The lack of sleep… well, I'm sure it'll come and go over time. Honestly, it's only just sinking in that he can't attack me or you or anyone else, ever again. That freedom is… incredible. What… uh… what's going to happen with the body?"
"I took care of it overnight." Jax said. "The less you know, the better. But it'll never come back to you, darlin'."
Tara nodded.
"Come on, let's go get some sleep." Jax said.
He took Tara's hand, leading her back to his dorm room. Mac smiled faintly, hope for her two friends blooming in her chest. She sipped her coffee, feeling a strong arm encircle her waist. She leaned back into the solid warmth of Chibs.
"Hey Filip." she said softly, turning to face him.
"Hey luv'. How are ya?"
Mac shrugged.
"Kohn, the guy, was Tara's crazy stalker ex. I watched her deal with him in college, and he's been terrorizing her for a few weeks. I thought he was gone, but he must've slipped back into town. He was waiting for us, when we got home."
Chibs' knuckles went white around his mug.
"He had Tara tape me to a chair, and tried to rape her. But I got loose, and shot him. The problem was, the shot looked obviously professional. If we'd called the cops… well, I can't have those rumors. Tara called Jax before I could stop her, so he was around to take care of it. Lucky timing too, apparently."
Chibs sighed.
"Yeah, I was in way over ma head."
His grip on her waist tightened.
"But Jesus Christ, Mackenzie. Ya should've… shit, I donnae. Seems like there's nothin' I coulda done."
Mac shook her head.
"There wasn't, Filip. It happened too fast."
He sighed again.
"Well, despite the circumstances, I'm glad tha' Jax was able ta get Tara here."
Mac smirked.
"Wha' we're ya talkin' ta Cam about?" Chibs asked. "Scottish Gaelic is similar ta Irish, but I didn'a pick up much."
She looked immediately somewhat uncomfortable, piquing Chibs' interest.
"Nothing much, really. He asked me if I'd ever been to Ireland. I have, several times, all for missions. But when I said I'd been to Derry, he said "that does warm a Nationalist's heart.""
Mac paused.
"He's IRA, isn't he?"
"Aye. And ya gotta keep tha' a secret, luv'. The club supports the cause in Ireland, and we buy some o' our guns from them ta fund it."
"You don't have to say any more, Filip. I'd figured most of that out for myself, actually."
"Truth is, I'm not sure how much I can tell ya. Technically, all of tha' is club business. But the line's always been a bit blurry with us, hasn't it?"
Mac hummed.
"How did ya know the slogan?" Chibs asked quietly.
"Peter." she said. "He… adopted it, though I can assure you he did not understand or appreciate the intent behind it. I've spent enough time in Ireland - in those parts of Ireland - to know what it means to men like Cameron. I figured it would… I don't know, put him at ease, maybe?"
"It probably did, darlin'." Chibs said.
There was something about the intimacy of the moment that had bothered him, despite understanding Mac's motives. In the moment, Chibs shook it off.
But the emotion remained.
—
Jax and Tara woke to a drastically different clubhouse.
Mac had spent the morning in a quiet corner, knowing better than to interfere when the cops showed up to arrest Clay in connection with the shooting that had injured Cameron. Luckily, they'd gotten the Irishman off to a safe house earlier. After Clay had been targeted, and now arrested, the rest of the club had begun summoning patches from every nearby chapter, preparing for war.
Tara slipped off for her shift at the hospital - though not without kissing Jax goodbye. Mac remained at the clubhouse, helping with the preparations.
Knowing that Clay was innocent - or at least as innocent as it was possible for Clay to be - they also knew that the cops would have to release him. Perhaps it was premature, but every man returning was welcomed with a party. Despite his short stay, Clay would be no different.
So Mac helped with food and party preparations, shot the shit with the guys that were free, and watched carefully as each out-of-state patch arrived.
By the time Clay returned, the party was in full swing.
Mac had planted herself alone at a picnic table, trying her very best to give off a "don't bother me" vibe. It seemed to be working, because she hadn't been approached all evening. She wouldn't normally be this antisocial, but Kohn's attack and her conversation with the Irishman had stirred her up inside.
Too many memories of Peter in too short of a time.
Mac nursed her beer, staring ahead of her where two patches were bitch-slapping each other in the ring. She was quietly dying to jump in herself, filled with that itchy, hot desire to beat the shit out of something - or someone.
Chibs and the rest of SAMCRO were talking alone, though they stood to greet Clay when he arrived, to much fanfare.
They sat, filling Clay in on what he'd missed. Most importantly, Chibs let him know about the the Irish offer. What they would offer should the Sons take care of Hefner.
"Well," Clay said, thinking, "I would've agreed to do that as a favor, period. Especially considering how McKeevey was killed. The return they're offering is just an added bonus."
There were nods around the table.
"Who does it?" Clay asked, with the air of someone who already knows the answer.
Chibs shifted in his seat, fighting to keep his face impassive.
"I think we need the services of G.I. Jane, once again." Tig said.
"Any against?"
Silence.
"Motion passed, then. Tig and I will bring it to her tomorrow morning."
Chibs turned, looking at Mackenzie where she sat, nursing a beer. If looks could kill, the guys in the ring right then would've been dead.
"I dunno, Chibby." Tig said, following his gaze. "She claims she's a fighter. I think she should prove it."
Chibs just snorted.
"Tig, do you see the look on her face?" he asked. "Be careful."
Tig scoffed.
"If ya feel like testin' her, I'm thinkin' she'd take ya up on it tonight. But she's had a bit of a rough day, so if she beats the shit outta ya, donnae blame me."
Chibs dropped his voice.
"If you'll remember, she shot a man dead last night."
The table burst into laughter, making Mac and a few others glance over. But Tig never could back down from a challenge.
"Hey, Mackie!" he called.
Mac's shoulders stiffened immediately, and Chibs turned to glare at his brother. Not that Tig knew any better, but he'd just basically sealed his fate.
Tig pointed at the ring.
"You and me, let's go."
Mac eyed him appraisingly. Only Chibs identified the sheer avidity that passed quickly over her features.
"You wanna get your shit kicked be a woman? In front of all your brothers?"
That brought another round of laughter from the guys. She could admit - she was in the mood for it. And Tig's use of that fucking nickname had only added fuel to the fire.
"No way that's how it ends." Tig said.
Mac shrugged, standing.
"Start betting, boys. Let's go, asshole."
Tig was already clearing a path through the crowd.
"Hey Happy!" he called, pointing to the current fight. "End that."
Mac went to one side of the ring, and took off everything except her jeans and t-shirt. Her jacket, boots, and jewelry she tucked underneath the side of the ring. Half-Sack handed her a roll of tape. The guys fought bare feet, taped hands, and no holds barred.
She taped her hands carefully, layered at the knuckles and tight at the wrists.
The crowd gathered, the Redwood Charter right at the front. Chibs was staring at her, and Mac allowed him to see that she was fine - hell, she was looking forward to this. Chibs smirked back.
There was some whispering and a whole lot of cat-calling as they climbed in the ring. Tig took the brunt of the shit, good-natured insults about what would happened if he lost to a woman. He teased Mac as well, but she was already sinking into the instincts that fighting required, drawing on anger at Peter, Kohn, and even Tig himself.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Chibs had never seen her work, never seen that stone-dead, brutal mask slide over her features. He almost - almost - couldn't believe his eyes. But she had warned them.
He might've assumed that Mac would mostly rely on the defensive, but she danced around Tig gracefully, not protecting herself so much as she was moving herself out of Tig's path. She was terrifyingly efficient, hard and fast and just a bit cruel.
Fast in the fleeting way she danced around him. Hard in her eyes, her face, and the unyielding lines of her fisted arms. Cruel in the way her foot snapped out to slam into his stomach, and Chibs somehow knew that she'd aimed over his kidney on purpose, just for maximum impact. And slowly, tactically, almost without trying, she tore Tig to pieces.
Life had infused a certain vicious brutality into her movements, and Chibs found himself almost sad that any one person could've been so wronged in their life. But he could see the fierce joy deep in her eyes, so he could appreciate the beauty in front of him - there were winces and groans around him, in sympathy with Tig, but the man was simply outclassed.
The world had shunk away around Mac, leaving only herself and Tig, and perhaps sometimes the heat of Chibs' gaze. It was one of those moments that Tig got her good - but just once. A solid punch to her cheek that she could tell had split the skin over her cheekbone. Other than that, Tig could only land superficial blows.
Chibs could see her thinking, drawing Tig slowly to right where she wanted him, gearing up for a final blow, before -
Crack.
Tig found himself on the mat, holding his nose, trying to swear through the flow of blood.
"Fuck, I think you broke it."
His voice was thick, and Mac kneeled down beside him, ignoring the cheers of the crowd.
They made their way to the edge of the ring, where the rest of the guys waited, still yelling and cheering. She hopped down, and was practically tackled, the group half-incoheret with laughter and booze.
"That's my girl!" Chibs roared, scooping her up. Mac wrapped her legs around his waist, smiling.
"Wanna look at Tig for me?" she asked. "Make sure I didn't do any permanent damage?"
More laughter, but Chibs put her down and moved to Tig.
"Yep, definitely broken." he said. "I can snap it back in ta place for ya. It'll hurt, and you'll have ta bandage it for a week or so. But no hospital."
Tig nodded, bleeding all over the place. Mac passed Chibs a towel, and began unwrapping the bloody tape on her hands.
"Alright Tiggy, hold on."
There was another, softer crack.
"Motherfucking tits!"
Chibs burst out laughing.
"Sorry, Tig." Mac said, now fully dressed again, sounding anything but.
Tig glared balefully at her.
"Hey, if you ever call me Mackie again, I'll break something you like a lot more."
The guys laughed, though someone took pity on Tig and passed him a handle. Not even a broken nose could stop Tig from getting trashed.
Chibs turned back to Mac, staggered at bit by the desire in her eyes.
"I hav' half a mind ta make ya do tha' again." he said, lifting her up again.
But the heat in Mac's belly had turned to that of a different sort.
"Maybe later, baby." she asid. "C'mon, let's go fuck."
Chibs needed no more encouragement then that. He walked off towards the dorms, Mac still wrapped around him, leaving catcalls in their wake.
The clubhouse was mercifully empty, everyone having made their way outside for the party.
Chibs carried her all the way to his room, stumbling on chair legs and discarded beer bottles. Mac snickered, holding on for dear life. But they made it safely into his room, where Chibs tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed.
"Goddamn ya, lass." he said.
He just stood there, staring at her splayed out on the covers.
"That was some absolutely wonderful shite."
Mac laughed.
"You barbarian. I should've known that would turn you on."
He growled.
"Nice to work out some tension, sometimes." she continued. "And I can admit it was nice to have an audience."
She grinned, emphasizing the hell out of the innuendo.
"Oi," Chbis growled, "none o' tha', darlin'. I'm the only one who gets ta see ya like this."
He reached for her, but Mac shimmied away.
"Oh, but it's just such a turn-on, Filip."
The sentence in laughter as he tackled her.
"Ya teasin me'?" he asked, eyes dark as he pinned her to the bed.
She bit her lip.
"Ya fuckin' minx. Ya mine and mine only, go' it?"
Mac went serious.
"Prove it."
And he did.
—
They woke together the next morning.
It was early enough that the rest of the clubhouse would still be passed out, sleeping off the excesses of the night before. Mac sat up, stretching, feeling the soreness from the previous night's brawl.
Chibs sat up beside her, hand going to her cheek.
"Shite, I forgot about this las' night." he said. "Come on, shower and then I wanna take a closer look."
Mac shrugged, having had worse, but allowed Chibs to play medic. They showered quickly, and Mac wandered to the kitchen while Chibs went to find the first aid kit. In the kitchen, Tig and Clay were awake, sitting at the bar drinking coffee together. She snagged the kettle, pouring a mug for Chibs and herself.
"Mornin'." Clay nodded at her. Mac nodded back, taking a close look at Tig's big, red, bandaged nose, not to mention his two spectacular black eyes.
"Glad to see I left any sorta mark." Tig grumbled, eyeing her brusied cheek. Clay just sniggered.
Chibs came out, greeting his brothers, and sat her on a bar stool. The four of them spoke casually as he cleaned the split skin over her cheekbone, and stuck on a butterfly bandage.
"Ya good to go, darlin'." he said, giving her a quick kiss.
Mac watched Clay and Tig exchange a look, and then both turned to look at Chibs, who sighed, a tense looking crossing his face.
"Fine." he said, sitting down beside her. "Let's ge' on with it, then."
Mac's brow furrowed.
"What?"
Clay sighed.
"We require G.I. Jane's services again." he said.
Mac's shoulders relaxed, understanding Chibs' reaction. She motioned for Clay to continue.
"Your new Irish friend offered us a good deal." he said. "Up where they import their, uh, goods, there's a dirty port commissioner. The asshole beat the shit outta an Irish friend, and killed him. Of course, the Irish want to retaliate. Cameron would do it, but it's time sensitive, and he's… out of commission. Anyways, they're asking us to help them out."
Clay shrugged.
"I'd do it anyways, since we're the reason Cam's injured. But they offered us something sweet in return, and we'd like to maintain the friendship. It's a bit complicated."
Chibs stiffened beside her.
"Do you have any more details about the guy?" Mac asked, sipping her coffee.
"He's as dirty as they come." Clay said. "I can have Happy put together something. The guy's had it comin' for a while. If you don't do this, someone else will."
She nodded.
Mac idly wondered if Clay was really giving her a choice. He was a clever man, clever enough to be honest with her, and so likely clever enough to fear her.
Perhaps she did have a choice, but a different one. Do it, stick with the club, keep Chibs, keep her new friendships. Don't do it, and risk all of that. Her version of "learning to love the club" was quite a bit more in-depth than what Tara was facing.
Of course, Clay had very little power over her, realistically. But by the way Chibs had stiffened at her side, there was more to this story. He wanted this done, even if he didn't necessarily want her involved.
For him, she'd do it.
"Have Happy get me that info." she said. "If it checks out, I'll get it done."
They nodded gratefully, and Mac saw Clay's shoulder's drop slightly, as if in relief. That gratified her.
They lapsed back into easy conversation as the clubhouse slowly woke up around them. Donna and Opie, who'd obviously spent the night too, walked by, speaking quietly to one another. Sensing tension, Mac squeezed Chibs' hand and followed after them. Through Opie's open dorm room door, she heard what sounded like an argument.
Mac was familiar with Donna's position within the club, and had major respect for the sacrifices that she and Opie especially had made. From the sound of it, Donna was not happy to be involved in the club again. Given her history, Mac knew Donna had every right to be unhappy, but a few words of advice might help, too.
She slipped back into the main room, waiting until Opie walked out, followed a minute later by Donna.
"Being an old lady is harder." Mac said.
Donna jumped, whirling to face her.
"What?" she asked.
"It is." Mac said, shrugging. "You shoulder the same risk he does. More, in some ways. You have to deal with the house, the bills, the kids. I imagine he's a good father, but it probably seems like he doesn't appreciate what the club puts on your shoulders."
"Speaking from experience, Donna, he does."
Donna's face went hard.
"I know who you are." she said. "I know your history."
Mac shook her head.
"No, you really don't."
Donna's blush told Mac she was right.
"If you did, you'd think less of me than your already do, I promise you that. If you think what the club does is scale, well, I make some of them look like fuckin' teddy bears."
Mac sighed.
"If I thought Opie didn't appreciate you, Donna, I'd leave you alone. You'd be better off without him. But I don't think that's true. I think both of you are scared shitless of Opie going away again. And you have every fucking right to be. But it's what you both signed on for."
"Honestly, Donna, you already know all this. This is a club of outlaws, people who want to live under their own moral code. You've got to have some respect for that. They may fuck around, but they take care of their own. Opie made a serious sacrifice for that brotherhood, but you can't deny that the club took care of you and the kids."
"When you married Opie, you married the club. It's not fair to him, to his family, to his brothers, even to you and your kids to leave now. You have so much, Donna. You have a man who loves you, you have beautiful children, you have family - both blood and bond - who would do just about anything for you."
"I don't think it's the club you hate. I think it's the fear."
Mac could see the steel returning to Donna's eyes. This was a strong woman.
"That's reasonable. Hell, it's even wise. But stop taking it out on Opie. He's equally as afraid, and he's trying his goddamn best to help in the only way he knows how. This club, I can see them desperately trying to do the right thing. And when they waver? That's when you have to work the hardest, Donne. That's when Opie needs you the most. Trust in the man you married. Trust in the club that is your family."
"Tackle the fear in whatever way you want. You want full disclosure? Ask him for it. You're his old lady, he'll tell you. If you don't want to know, don't ask. But don't take it out on him for keeping a secret."
"Opie is trying." Mac said. "You could at least try, too."
And she shrugged and walked away.
—
Chibs was waiting for her at the bar.
"Come on." he said, wrapping her in a hug. "Let's go back ta my place."
Mac looked at him.
"Seriously." he said. "I wan' ta show ya."
Mac smiled and nodded.
They rode over in her truck.
Chibs' home turned out to be a small cottage-like house on the outskirts of Charming. Instantly, Mac somehow knew that the homes where Chibs had grown up would all look similar. It just had that kind of sense to it.
She liked it immediately. The house had two full floors, a small attic, and an unfinished basement. He took her upstairs first, showing her the guest room and then his bedroom.
It was furnished in dark woods, with deep blue and green accents. The Irish and Scottish flags hung proudly on the wall, next to the requiste Sons decorations. She went immediately for the photos that were framed on one wall - some of SAMCRO, some with brothers from SAMBEL, a few of a younger Chibs, handsome and rebellious in his uniform, and one where he stood, arm around a pretty woman Mac didn't recognize.
"Ma sister, Cait." Chibs said. "And my mum." He pointed at another photo of an older woman hugging two children.
"And Kerrianne."
She heard the softness creep into his voice as he gestured to a photo of himself and a younger girl, unmistakeably his daughter.
"She's beautiful, Filip."
"Aye."
Mac stopped in surprise at the window seat. The walls were cleverly designed, mostly built-in bookshelves that were packed with books. She looked over at Chibs, raising an eyebrow.
"Wha'?" he asked. "I gotta fill the time somehow."
Mac just smiled.
He led her downstairs, the design open and filled with light. The house was surrounded on three sides by trees, giving it a very private feel. It was clean and well-kept, obviously a place he used to retreat. That he'd wanted to show her made her feel warm all over.
"You have a home, Filip." she said, smiling at him.
Chibs shrugged.
"It's no' much."
"Hey, don't do that. It's lovely."
"Come on. I'll show ya outside."
He grabbed a pair of beers before bringing her out to the little patio table on the back porch. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the peace.
"Mackenzie," Chibs said eventually, "we have ta talk about somethin'."
Mac motioned for him to continue.
"I know wha' went through your head today, when Clay asked ya for help. Clay wasn'a lyin'; it is complicated. But I've been hesitant to tell ya everyhin'. I trust ya, but I owe an oath to the reaper."
"An' I know ya considered sayin' no. After all, Clay cannae tell ya ta do anythin'. But ya said yes, like before, and between tha' an' all the club business you already know, you're one of the most in the loop non-patched friend tha' exists."
"But ya aren't my old lady, so I've kept quiet."
Mac eyed him.
"What are you asking me, Filip?"
"Would ya ever wanna be? My old lady, I mean."
Mac's immediate gut answer was yes. At the core of their relationship, a strong bond of friendship had grown, surrounded by thick layers of lust and affection and trust. They'd protected each other, they'd learned each others' secrets.
And yet, their relationship had yet to face it's biggest test. Peter.
Then again, Peter would be easier to face with Chibs by her side.
"Yes." she said simply, swayed by that thought.
Chibs smiled genuinely. Mac loved the way it brought out his dimples, emphasized by the slash of his scars. She grinned back.
"I'm no' askin' yet." he clarified. "It's awhile away, Mackenzie, but I can see it with ya."
"You're still married." she pointed out.
It was a problem she hadn't really considered yet. Chibs had never officially gotten divorced. In effect, Mac was the other woman.
But Chibs shook his head.
"Only in name, luv'." he said. "Mackenzie, I'm no' in love with her anymore. She's the mother of my daughter, and I'd do anythin' for Kerrianne. But Fi and I - those days are long over. But she'll always be in ma life, as the mother of ma daughter."
"Oh, Filip." Mac said. "Of course you love your daughter. That's not what I mean. I just… did you ever consider remarrying?"
He stared at her.
"I honestly never thought I'd get married." she continued. "Never had the chance to even consider it. Even with Peter, married just seemed too permanent. But I could see myself wanting it, if I became your old lady. A while down the road, though, as you said."
Chibs sighed.
"Ya know, the truth is, I'd never thought about it like that. But you're no' wrong." he said. "But there were two reasons Fi and I never go' divorced. For a long time, I'd hoped to get her back. Even now tha' tha' hope is gone, we've stayed married for her protection. If she cannae get remarried, then Jimmy O' cannae marry her. I won' take tha' away from her."
Mac nodded.
"Jus' like Peter, I'm no' sure if tha' problem will ever have a solution. However, I do want to make it clear, you are not the other woman. Fiona is the mother of ma daughter. But our marriage, our relationship, is finished. You are mine, as I am yours."
Mac smiled softly. His soft words brought something into her eyes, something that made Chibs stand up quickly enough to knock the empty beer bottles over.
"Mackenzie." he said, holding out his hand.
It had happened that fast, the switch from affection to lust.
She took it, allowing him to lead her inside. Chibs locked the sliding door behind them before wrapping himself around her back. His breath tickled her ears, arousal pressing into her lower back.
Mac snapped. She turned, flinging herself into his arms, and he caught her.
"Bedroom." she said, and he shifted her higher, trusting her to cling to him as he climbed the stairs.
Mac's hands and lips slid everywhere, intent on pushing him to the edge as quickly as possible. Chibs, despite the club's reputation, was a controlled man. Mac wanted to crack that shell of discipline. She wanted him - all of him - with nothing held back.
Chibs stopped beside the bed, and Mac slid down his body, stopping to unbuckle his belt and jeans. He stood obligingly still as she stipped him methodically. When he was naked before her, Mac shoved him backwards onto the bed, and climbed on top of him.
She kissed him, hard, distracting him as she lifted his arms. The headboard of his heavy wood bed was perfect for what she had planned. She coaxed his hands through, and used his belt to tie them together on the other side.
"Good?" she asked, pulling back.
Chibs reached for her, and Mac watched realization darken his eyes.
Fuck. Bloody minx.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Chibs had known what Mac was aiming for. But the reality was far, far hotter. She was still fully clothed, straddling him with a dirty smile on her face. He really wasn't sure if he'd ever been this hard before.
Her excess of clothes was quickly remedied as she began to strip - slowly - and Chibs' train of thought derailed entirely. It was torture, watching her tease at the button on her jeans, at the edge of her t-shirt, at the little bow on her knickers. It took her ages, lifetimes to get herself naked, and Chibs was well on his way to losing it entirely by the time she was done.
He watched as she climbed over him, sitting down on his knees, far from his cock. Mac let a hand slide slowly up her body to her chest, beginning to play with herself. First around her nipples, teasing them. When she began to sigh and whimper under her own hand, Chibs shifted underneath her, frustration building quickly.
Mac tickled down her belly, trailing down to her cunt. She used two fingers, but slowly, purposefully not touching where Chibs knew she wanted to the most. His cock twitched in time with her breaths.
When she finally brushed her clit, she whimpered loudly, the sound filled with desire. Chibs let out a groan that seemed to come from deep within himself, and Mac grinned internally.
He's getting there.
When she pulled her fingers out, bringing them up for a taste, Chibs started to yank at his bonds.
"Mackenzie, let me out."
His tone was low and breathless, accent heavy with need.
Mac ignored him. She was sure, given enough incentive, he could get himself out.
Bloody minx, bloody fucking tease.
She continued to ignore him in favor of herself, now working steadily towards the edge. The closer she got, the more Chibs pulled at his bonds. When she let out a particularly loud moan, he began to yell.
"Let me the fuck out, Mackenzie!"
But still she ignored him.
He was gorgeous beneath her, legs sprawled, hair wrecked, flushed, pupils blown, a snarl on his face. Cock heavy and red and unignorable.
The sight pushed Mac too far. She didn't want to come without him, and was forced to stop and catch herself. She leaned forward, digging her nails into Chibs' thigh, forcing herself to hold on.
His cock was right in front of her face.
Without thinking, Mac moved forward and licked him from root to tip.
Chibs lost control.
He roared, yanking his hands out, and Mac was on her back with him inside her before she could even take a breath.
She laughed, loud and delighted.
But he was gone. All pretense of self-control tossed out the window when she'd licked him. Fears of hurting Mac or himself were lost to the wind in favor of getting inside her as quickly as possible.
Vaguely, Chibs heard her laugh.
It was hard and fast and passionate, and Mac was flying with every stroke. He slammed into her, beyond caring, and Mac couldn't tell if she'd gone over the edge or if she was still approaching. She was so hot that she was worried she might melt entirely, and then she was shaking uncontrollably and Chibs pushed into her once, twice more before roaring her name and spasming inside her.
Mac's world went spotty.
Chibs fell onto his forearms above her, shaking against the exertion. They did nothing but breath together for long moments. Eventually, he ran a thumb over the bruise on her cheekbone.
Mac's lovely green eyes opened.
"Get's better every time, Filip." she mumbled.
"Aye." he said, chuckling as he rolled into his back and pulled her to his side.
My girl.
Mac basked in the warmth.
My Filip.
—
Mac planned the port commissioner's death carefully.
She'd chosen to wait outside his girlfriend's apartment, and take the shot with some distance. No witnesses, no wasted time. She'd brought Happy with her, and was currently sitting in the back seat of a nondescript car, keeping a close eye on the apartment's front window.
"You work slow." Happy said, much to Mac's annoyance.
"We're waiting for him to leave." she replied. "So shut it. I'm careful."
"I'm bored."
Mac shrugged.
"Then stay home next time."
Happy just grinned at her.
Mac put her eye back to the rifle scope, watching Hefner prepare to leave the apartment. Their car was tucked away on a ridge that overlooked the place. Mac rolled down the window, readying for the shot.
All that waiting, for one single moment. Hefner gave her a nice clear shot when he turned around to lock the door behind him.
Happy had the car moving before Mac had fully rolled up the window.
"Thanks for driving." Mac said, quickly disassembling the rifle. "You got me out of there a lot faster than I could have."
Happy nodded, and they didn't speak again until they pulled into a chop yard close to Charming, where Tig was waiting.
"Nothin' on the radio yet." Tig said, greeting them. "The gun you got must be pretty quiet."
"I waited until he'd shut the door." Mac said. "It'll take the girlfriend a while to notice, and I doubt anyone else lived in that shithole."
As Tig worked his magic on the car, Mac chilled with Happy. The boys had become more and more open with her every day, and this job only made them more comfortable around her. Once again, Mac wondered what this fine line she was walking - somewhere in between old lady and patched brother - was. Though she couldn't deny that she was far more comfortable having some idea of what they were up to.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from Chibs.
I'll be out of contact tonight. See you tomorrow?
Mac smiled.
You bet. Be safe.
She turned to the two Sons beside her, the open night stretching in front of them.
"Boys." she said. "Let's get drunk."