The Sons learn firsthand that having their very own lady of the night comes with many more advantages than they ever imagined.
General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, mentions of drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.
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CHAPTER 7: LADY OF THE NIGHT
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Sydney awoke abruptly to the feeling of her heart hammering against her chest, shooting up in bed where she gasped for air, running her hands over the smooth silk of her sheets. She felt her face flush against the contrast of the cold chill that found her sweat-coated body, realizing as she took in her surroundings that the erotic dream she'd had was just that - a dream.
Only it wasn't. It was a reality that her subconscious had been desperate to relive.
She was hooked; the feeling of his skin, the allure of his dominance, the validation in his praise... She'd left the clubhouse immediately after the mindblowing encounter - stumbling out with wobbly legs and a spinning head as she fought with everything that she'd had not to stay and spend the entire night the same way that she'd spent the evening, and she knew that it wouldn't be the last time that she'd have to fight the urge as it began to rise again...
She rolled over as she tried to catch her breath, plucking her phone off of the nightstand to see a new text that had come in while the clock read 3:29 A.M. - realizing that the reason she had been so easily coaxed out of her slumber by the message was because she'd only just managed to get to sleep. She felt yet another wakening rush of nervous excitement, completely distracting her from the President's virtual invitation back to church the following day.
She was in strange territory - she knew that he felt the same way that she did, but the entire reason that they'd met in the first place was forcing her to maintain her mysterious illusion towards the funhouse expert, himself.
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Tig was still awake as his mind danced with the heavenly memories of the unholy evening. The sex that he'd had with Sydney was the best sex that he'd ever had; rewarding, validating, but most importantly, it was mutual. Their physical chemistry had been just as earth-shattering as their mental chemistry had been - the way that their bodies had fed off one another, seemingly knowing just what the other needed. She had exceeded his expectations tenfold - she was a perfect adaptation of his dream lover: kinky but submissive, sweet but sexy, innocent but evil. He'd thought about fucking her hundreds of times, but the anticipation had made it hard for him to see it as anything more than a fantasy - a fantasy that he still couldn't believe had actually become reality.
His phone buzzed with the same text from Clay, disregarding the message as he flipped it open and scrolled through his contact list, hovering over her name... She must be asleep. He made the excuse, knowing full well that she would be awake by the numerous late nights and early mornings that they'd spent together lately.
He shook his head, tossing his phone beside him on the bed. He was unsure how to navigate the uncharted territory - he'd never been in this position before, even as a man in his forties. And the only thing that was keeping him from thinking that this had been a dream altogether, was the fact that he had yet to fall asleep.
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Sydney awoke peacefully this time to the sun shining through her window, but the peacefulness was short-lived as her stomach flipped the second that she gained consciousness. What was going to happen now? She laid in bed for a while as she tried to process the confusing mixture of emotions - happy, anxious, excited, nervous - before finally peeling back the covers and padding towards the bathroom for a shower. But her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she pulled off her nightgown to see the marks that Tig had left on her body; a large, dark hickey on the left side of her neck, some smaller ones on her left breast around her tattoo, and small red marks on her hips from where his fingers had been.
Though it had been some time, Sydney was no foreigner to sex. But what she was a foreigner to, was sex like that. Sex with such passion, such need. She smiled to herself as she looked down at her white toenails, blushing before finally hauling herself into the shower. He definitely hadn't been wrong about what he'd told her after the wedding - he'd fucked her, and her body knew. She could still feel the way that he'd worshipped her with a slight aching in her stomach, which only tightened with excitement as she thought about what more was to come.
After a long shower with water hot enough to rival the images that played over and over in Sydney's mind, she dressed herself in black ripped jeans, a grey loose tank top that exposed parts of her strappy black bralette, and black platform mules before heading off to the clubhouse with her hair in messy waves that she'd left down to air-dry in a weak attempt to conceal her hickeys.
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Tig had never in his life woken up after a conquest and thought about it twice, but as he dressed himself for the day, he couldn't get Sydney out of his mind. The senseless thoughts of her that kept him awake for most of the night had driven him almost as mad as the sight of her naked body had. He'd gotten out of bed eagerly - another thing that he rarely did - making his way to the kitchen for some hardly necessary coffee where he found Gemma waiting for him.
"Mornin'." Gemma was the type of woman whose tone could tell you exactly what she was thinking, but her famous raised-brow, pursed-lip expression only confirmed that he was completely busted before he could even try to plead his case.
"What?" He chuckled, remaining casual - not ready to give it up just yet. They hadn't exactly tried to hide what had happened, but they hadn't thought that it had been all that obvious either...
"Heard you had a good night." She walked over, brushing her fingers over the hickey on his neck with a snort before she lightly slapped it.
"Yeah, crow was crazy." He winked.
She raised her brow even higher. "Yeah." She scoffed. "This... Crow doesn't have anything to do with Sydney stumbling out of the bathroom with you, does it?"
"Oh, nah, Gem. She was just drunk - I was holdin' her hair." His voice was full of over-exaggerated care.
"Not like the Tig I know to be such a gentleman." She scoffed again.
"Just tryna keep the Princess happy - bosses orders."
"You could've at least asked her to stay if she was so drunk." Gemma smirked.
"Shit... You think so?" He shook his head with a wince, backing down quickly. He knew that he could trust Gemma - one of the only people who had ever been allowed to experience his soft side.
"Don't worry, Tigger. Somethin' tells me that wasn't your only chance." She chuckled with a smile, walking out of the kitchen where she left Tig alone - giddy as a school girl.
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Clay sipped his coffee as he sat at the Diner in Pope where he awaited the arrival of the Aryan shot-caller. He was taking a risk going alone, but Darby was the least of his problems right now - and he had a plan that he knew his crew wouldn't go for.
"Clay." Ernest Darby greeted his rival as he strolled past him and slid into the other end of the booth - Whistler and Izzy lingering by the door.
"Been a while." Clay nodded to the balding man. "Wanted to make sure you didn't forget about our agreement."
"I kept Opie safe the entire time that we were in Chino together." Darby shrugged as the MC President already tried to jump on his ass.
"Oh, I remember how it works inside. Question is; do you remember how it works outside?" He narrowed his eyes.
"A lot changes in three years, Clay."
"A lot stays the same..." Clay shrugged, leaning closer. "Nothing happens in Charming that we don't control, or get a piece of." He sneered. Darby rolled his beady eyes, unable to believe that SAMCRO had already caught onto the operation that he had only just started back up. "See you got some new ink in the joint." He nodded to the swastika tattoo that sat in the centre of Darby's chest.
"Subtle, but it says it." Clay chuckled. "I'm dealin' in Pope. Your precious little town ain't on my shit list." He mused.
"That's good to hear." Clay nodded. "Why don't you, uh - make your way down to my clubhouse later, help convince my guys." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"And why the hell would I do that?" Darby scoffed. Surely Clay didn't think he was stupid enough to so willingly walk into an ambush?
"Do me this favour, and we'll consider the trucking issue off of the table."
"What do you care about some cracked out truckers?" Darby contorted his face in confusion.
"Well you see, the Sons of Anarchy protect a local company; Unser Trucking. Coincidentally the same trucking company owned by the Chief of police." Clay grinned. "Your crank in the truck throws a wrench in our commitment to the safety of the Chief's town. So if I can show my guys that you ain't dealin' in Charming, then we can convince the Chief that we don't have to destroy your entire operation." He lifted his mug to his lips with a smug smile.
"You think I'm just gonna pull up to your clubhouse with a death wish?"
"I'll consider it a good faith gesture - got a tight little San Bernardino prize there for you that'll give you some of her own good faith gestures." He pulled out his wallet and tossed a few bills down onto the table. "I know you got a thing for the blondes with blue eyes." He mused.
Darbys brown eyes flickered. "Fine." He sneered, getting up out of the booth.
"2:15 P.M., see you there." Clay called after him.
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Sydney pulled up to the clubhouse at 1:55 P.M.. She had been so nervous - wanting to leave as little time to be grilled by the guys before 2:00 P.M. church as possible. She walked into the clubhouse, trying not to draw any attention to herself as she hurried over to Gemma who was standing at the bar. She'd dealt with the hassling about Tig for weeks, but it was another thing when the hassling was now substanced, and her nerves still hadn't settled from the incident itself.
"Hey, sweetheart. Heard your first church went well." The older woman smirked.
"I think I showed 'em who's boss." Sydney smirked back, glad that her accomplishments within the club were what was being recognized here, and not her accomplishments with its members...
"Looks like someone showed you who's boss, too." Gemma used the arm of her sunglasses to push Sydney's hair away from her bruised neck, revealing her hickey - the colour draining from her face before the two women started laughing.
"That's me." Sydney announced when Clay walked in, fluffing her hair back into place and walking towards the chapel where Tig was waiting among his brothers, meaning that she didn't have to worry about a potentially awkward encounter.
Tig's eyes lit up when Sydney walked in, and as much as he wanted to stand and stare - he quickly turned away, pulling his chair out and resting his chin on his folded hands.
Sydney took her seat as church began. So far all she'd gotten were a couple of scowls and smirks around the table - which she was more than happy to accept. But she noticed a new face joining the meeting - a face that she'd only recognized from Bobby's wedding: Piney Winston - Opie Winton's father.
She'd heard enough about the father-son duo from Gemma and a few others to have been able to pick them out of a crowd, and Piney's descriptors of 'crazy old fuck with an oxygen tank and an alcohol problem who pretty much did as he pleased as long as it didn't cause trouble' suddenly seemed far less theatrical than she'd originally found it to be as she stared at exactly that. But regardless of his absence in the weeks since she'd arrived in town, he politely introduced himself to her - giving her condolences for her father, and recounting the many times that they had worked together.
Clay began explaining the situation with Chief Unser's truck driver as Sydney nodded off, thinking about Tig as she barely managed to keep her eyes locked on Clay while she thought about those hands that sat only feet away from her peripherals.
"Met with Darby, says he's only dealing in Pope." He looked around his table for the push-back that he had come to expect, glad when all that he saw was confusion. "Unser's coming by later - he's gonna need a friendly reminder that this is an isolated incident, and it doesn't affect our deal." He narrowed his eyes.
"Sure thing." Juice nodded.
"You got it, man." Tig added in what almost came out as a growl as he so valiantly tried to appear present in the conversation that was falling on deaf ears as he breathed in the scent of Sydney's perfume where she sat so close to him...
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A few minutes after the chapel doors closed, the one to the clubhouse opened, and Ernest Darby waltzed in. To say that Gemma was confused would've been an understatement - instinctively reaching for the gun under the bar before she remembered that the Nords were at peace with the Sons, at least that was what paper showed, for now...
"Hi, Ernie." She greeted the man that she would've called her old friend - but her husband wouldn't have appreciated that.
"Gemma... Wow..." Darby's eyes nearly popped out of his head as they laid on the gorgeous woman that he'd never been able to get - no matter how hard he'd tried. "How's the beautiful queen of bikers?"
"Holdin' it together." She shrugged. "What are you doing here?"
"Favor for Clay." He dismissed her question quickly. "Damn, Gem... You look real good." His eyes slid over her. Clay had been right, he did have a prize for him. "Clay keeping you happy?"
"He does the best he can." Gemma smirked. "Interesting new accessory you have there..." She used her sunglasses to now pull the neckline of his shirt down, exposing his hateful ink.
"Picked it up on my little retreat in Chino." He grinned proudly.
"Bet those Jewish doctors keeping your mom alive just love that." She snorted.
Darby's eyes glinted, almost having forgotten just how powerful Gemma's intelligence was - but her allure was even more dangerous. "That's right." He smiled somewhat uncomfortably. "You got a little Jew in you too, don't you?" He nodded.
"A bit... On the angry Russian side." She smirked before her phone began buzzing with a text.
Clay: He there?
She texted back her confirmation. She'd known that something had to be up, but she knew better than to ask questions - at least not right away.
"It was nice talking to ya, Ernie." She grabbed the man a beer, hoping to keep him occupied in her absence before whatever Clay had planned could get underway. "Gotta run and catch my train back to Auschwitz." She winked.
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"We need to start thinking about our little Mexican problem." Clay's voice brought Sydney back to earth as he changed the subject to something that was finally interesting enough to pull her from her daydreaming.
"I say we retaliate at equals; find our guns, torch their facility in return - good faith gesture to Laroy so that he doesn't get up our asses when we don't have anything to sell." Jax suggested.
"It's been weeks since the explosion, by now they're thinking that they got away with it - dropping the extra precautions and security they would've had. Perfect time to move in." Tigs eyes sparkled as Sydney spoke in a tone that was all business as she dove headfirst into her club associate role.
"Alvarez's got the local cops on the payroll." Chibs informed her.
"Which makes them lazy, they won't try too hard to cover their tracks." Sydney countered.
"They wouldn't take a chance housing the guns at the cut shops that we already know about." Tig shook his head.
"Gotta be someplace off the grid... Juice, start hacking into crime databases - get addresses of any Mayans in the system. I want surveillance on them til we find out where their facilities are, and what their security's like." Clay's order ended the session as the younger man eagerly pulled out his laptop and got to work.
Sydney was the first to get up to leave when she heard Tig's voice, stopping dead in her tracks as the chill froze her feet to the ground. "Damn, Princess... You know, I heard last night's show was better." He teased.
"I think you got a good enough show last night." Chibs hollered.
Sydney and Tig's faces both went white, then red as the entire table turned to look at them. She raised an eyebrow, shooting Chibs a challenging look, but her rosy cheeks gave her away - which made Tig's face loosen a bit.
"That why you stumbled outta here last night?" Clay teased, but it had the opposite effect when Sydney's ego took over.
"Drunk." She stated easily.
"And you drove home?" Jax challenged.
"Talented." She mused with a coy tilt of her head.
"And your neck?" Chibs added, smirking.
"Curling iron." She shrugged.
"You got an excuse thought out for everything don't ya, Princess?" Clay mused.
"Of course." She said smugly, making him snicker.
"Did he burn his neck with a curling iron too?" Juice yelled across the table, pointing at Tig's far more exposed neck.
"You thought this was natural, brother?" He pointed to his hair, making everyone laugh.
"You think fucking him is gonna get you special treatment around here?" The room fell silent as Clay's harsh accusations stopped Sydney from leaving once again, Tig shooting his President a glare.
"Well, it would just be an added bonus." Sydney smirked before Tig could get too upset. "Besides, your Sergeant gives me all of the special treatment that I need." She rasped, giving the curly-haired man a dramatic once over.
Tig's eyes slowly returned to Clay with the shock plastered on his face in a dramatic display as she smiled devilishly before heading out of the chapel with a proud smirk as the whistling and hollering started behind her. She made her way towards the bar where she saw a tall, balding man with a jolly face, but she knew that this man was anything but jovial - this was Ernest Darby.
Jax was the first to follow Sydney out the door, stopping when he saw Darby - whipping his head around to Clay who was right behind him. "What the hell is he doing here?"
Clay put his arm up, signalling for everyone to hang back. "Getting his welcome home present." He said with a smirk.
Sydney continued towards the door, acting as if she had no idea who the man was -smiling politely at him as she waited for the inevitable plot to be revealed...
"Eh, not so fast, sweetheart." She'd almost made it past him when he reached out to stop her with one hand on her waist, and the other on her bicep.
"Who the hell are you?" She wasn't sure what angle Clay was working here, but she knew that there was a reason that everyone was hanging back in the chapel - especially if Darby had dared to step foot in their clubhouse.
"I can be anyone you want me to be." He reached up to stroke her hair.
"No thanks." Her tone was that of pure disgust as she pushed him away with a wince - keeping up the act.
Tig puffed out his chest as he tried to get past Clay while everybody watched the encounter unfold. "What the hell, man." He seethed when the President didn't let up.
"Just. Wait." Clay sneered, keeping his eyes trained on the entangled pair.
"You don't gotta play hard to get." Darby reached out for her again.
"I'm not playing at anything." She said as she stepped back, turning her head to glance towards the chapel for some direction, but it was stopped by Darby's hands pulling her face to look at him.
"Don't worry, sweetie." He shook his head assuringly. "Your President said that you were allowed to spend some time with me."
It clicked. Darby thought she was a croweater. Clay must have used her to get him here, knowing what would happen if he tried to make a move on her - explaining why he had been so willing to forget about the trucking situation. He knew that she would give him the warning that he needed.
"Oh." She changed her demeanour, lowering her voice and dropping her hip as her expression softened. She reached up to grab his hands with hers, stroking them gently as she brought them down from her face. "Sorry about that, love - let me grab you another beer." She spoke, leaning into his mouth as she reached for his empty bottle, slowly sliding her hands off of his.
"What the hell is she doing?" Jax pressed, the anger building within him when once again, his President kept him in the dark.
"Exactly what I knew she would." Clay beamed as he caught the tiniest twitch of Sydney's lips as they curled up, letting him know that she was on board.
"I thought we said that she wasn't a piece of ass to pass around." The VP challenged.
"She's not." Tig snarled, pushing past them before he was stopped by a loud smash that drew everyone's immediate attention to the source - finding Sydney pinning Darby against the bar by his shirt collar as she held the broken beer bottle to his neck.
"Now, Mr. Darby." She cooed sweetly. "Didn't mommy ever teach you how to talk to a lady?"
The bald man was stunned, scared, and dazed from the bottle that he'd taken to the side of the head - but tried not to show it. "You ain't no lady." He spit out. "You're just a little biker slu-."
"Ah-ah." She pressed the large point of the broken glass against his skin. "That's where you're wrong, sweetheart." She sneered, letting the jagged bottle neck fall in her fingers - the sharp point dropping from his neck, down to his chest as she lightly traced his swastika tattoo with the makeshift blade. "I'm no crow." She looked up into his eyes as she pressed it into his skin, cutting a deep gash as her green eyes darkened to a deadly shade of black - listening to him hiss in pain as she released the glass from his skin. "You ever try to push up on me again?" She whispered close to his ear in the same low tone, just barely brushing her lips against his skin as she moved her head down to the bleeding cut where she ran her tongue across it. "I'll kill ya. Got it?" She cocked an eyebrow as a toothy, terrifying grin spread across her face.
The man was in utter dismay when she looked up at him with her teeth coated red, her murderous stare only intensifying with the taste of his blood. He nodded, watching her dainty hand release his shirt collar before he took off out of the bar.
Sydney turned to see all of the leather-clad men standing frozen with their jaws on the floor - a look that she was getting quite fond of seeing on them. "I hope he wasn't a regular." She shrugged innocently, waltzing behind the bar to grab a broom.
"Holy shit... She really is just as twisted as you." Juice exclaimed, looking at Tig who couldn't hide his shock - or his erection - as he stood wide-eyed with his hand on his crotch.
Clay threw Jax an 'I told you so' glance before making off to give the young girl his praise. "Exactly what I hoped you would do, Princess." The President bellowed with a grin. It was the happiest that Sydney had seen him since she arrived.
Sydney watched as Tig slipped down the hallway without saying a word. She wasn't doubting his feelings - she could tell that last night was just as ground-shaking for him as it had been for her. But between that, and what had just transpired, he didn't know how to take it.
"You tell her to do that?" Jax asked Clay once he returned to where he stood at the pool table.
"Nah."
"You tell her who Darby was?"
"Nope."
"So you're tellin' me that she figured all that out on her own - who he was, why he was here, what you wanted her to do." He asked skeptically.
"I told you not to underestimate her... Son." Clay sneered as he made to remove himself from the younger man's disrespectful presence.
"Told you yesterday, VP - I did my own recon." Sydney called from across the bar.
Jax whipped his head towards the grating sound of her voice, surprised that not only had she heard him - but that she'd had the balls to interrupt a private conversation between the two highest ranked members. "Why don't you stay out of conversations that you weren't invited to, like the rest of the women."
"Why don't you learn to lower your goddamn voice when you're talking about somebody ten feet away from you." She retorted with a snort as she made her way over to him.
The blonde man backed himself up against the pool table, but she didn't stop until her body was pressed completely against his. "I know that your big boy balls are having a hard time grasping this concept, Jackson, but-" Her gaze shifted from his quickening pulse, to his fluttering eyes. "I'm not like the rest of the women. It would be smart of you to start realizing that." Her voice was eerily calm before she turned back to the broken glass that she had been cleaning from the floor, whipping him in the face with her hair as she did so - earning a sly smirk from Clay.
The white-haired man approached Sydney as she was crouched down with a broom and dustpan in hand, motioning for Half-Sack to take over the clean-up. "Between Jax, and what I just saw back there? I might have to consider you as my new VP." He chuckled.
"Just doing my job, Pres... But I'd be happy to take that rocker." She winked as he shook his head with a laugh.
Sydney hung around the clubhouse for the afternoon while they waited on Chief Unser, shooting pool with Bobby while Juice and Clay got to work pulling surveillance on the Mayans. After a few hours, they'd seemed to be satisfied with what they'd been able to find out as the younger man packed up his laptop in preparation to start tracking down their warehouse.
"I'm coming." Sydney piped up with an innocent smile.
"Uh." Juice stammered, glancing back at Clay.
"Mayans don't know who she is, she blends in." The President shrugged. "Plus, you'll have some backup." He said through a grin. "Be back by 6:00 P.M., Juicey." He winked.
Sydney's sweet smile widened when she got her way, pleased with her progress in winning over the tough President, and the rough Sergeant. All she had left to do was appease the spoiled Prince, and she would have the SAMCRO trifecta in the palm of her hand.
Tig inhaled sharply from the garage where he watched Juice and Sydney walk around the building towards the van as she did cartwheels, grinding his teeth harshly before forcing himself back to the work that he hoped would distract him.
Sydney followed Juice to the grey Savannah parked behind TM - clearly their designated job vehicle as it was big enough to transport both their guns and the entire crew, but it blended in perfectly at the garage as if it were any old shuttle service vehicle.
"Not bad." She said out loud.
Juice had no idea what she was talking about, and he was too nervous to ask - so he acted like he hadn't heard her at all, searching the area around them for a subject-change. "You gonna wear those?" He scowled as he pointed at her feet.
"Yeah? What's wrong with 'em?" She asked as she looked down to examine her Steve Maddens.
"Oh, nothing! I just mean..." He stumbled.
"Juice, we're friends. Spit it out." She laughed as a sense of relief appeared over his face.
"I just mean like, in case something goes wrong and we have to run."
"Well I'm not gonna have to run, but you might." She cocked her brows with a smirk, walking over to the passenger side. "Can we get something to eat on the way? I'm starving."
"What, your knight in shoe-polished leather didn't bring you your morning donuts?" He scoffed.
Sydney actually laughed out loud at his joke before rolling her eyes when once again, Tig was brought up - turning towards the window with a bashful smile where the drive to Oakland began.
"Syd... If we're friends, can I ask you something?" Juice finally worked up the courage to ask the question that he - and everyone else - had been dying to know the answer to after a couple minutes of awkward silence.
Sydney knew what he was about to ask, sighing heavily. "Shot for shot, Ortiz." She decided that if she was going to be grilled about Tig, she may as well use it to her advantage.
Juice nodded, accepting the challenge. "What the hell's going on with you and him? It's freakin' me out."
"If only I knew the answers to those questions, Juicey..." She said longingly while looking distantly out the window.
"I mean... We all figured you would hook up with a member, but... Not him."
"Who then? Bobby?" She chuckled.
"Nah." He laughed. "Maybe Jax... Maybe..."
"Maybe... You?" She prodded, finishing his sentence as he stiffened.
"You're avoiding the question." He brought the attention back to her.
Sydney chortled before he dramatically turned his head to the side to stare at her, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, okay." She snapped playfully with a roll of her eyes. "I don't know what happens next. But it's public knowledge that I'm into him." The corners of his mouth turned up at her admission. "And if you fucking tell anyone that we had this conversation I will not hesitate to slice your tats in half, too."
"Copy that..." Juice gulped, looking up towards the tribal tattoos on either side of his head. "Your turn."
"What do you take this shit with us for?"
"You serious about him?" She nodded cautiously. "Crows have been asking if you're his old lady - he doesn't really pay them any attention anymore." He shrugged.
Sydney couldn't help the smile that formed on her face while Juice just laughed and shook his head, laughing harder when she hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Now shut up and get me my donuts." She sat back with a huff.
Forty minutes later, Sydney and Juice were parked a block away from the Mayans clubhouse - and the row of ape-hangared Softails along the curb was a telltale sign that they had a full table.
"Would be real easy to just throw a grenade in there and eliminate all of our Mexican problems right now, wouldn't it." Sydney said dreamily as she held her lemonade to her lips, not putting down the binoculars that she was looking out of.
"Jesus Christ." Juice looked at her, horrified as her lips curled into an evil smile. Just then, the doors flew open and men wearing Mayan kuttes poured out. "Shit - get down." He scrambled to get to the floor.
Sydney shot him a scowl. "You get down." She scoffed. "I don't have to get down... I'm just a lady of the night, driving around in her handjob mobile." Juice looked confused before she yanked him by the kutte and made him switch seats with her, slowly creeping up to peer over the dash. "Which ones do we follow?" He asked.
"When Clay needed a routine at the warehouse, who did he send?"
"Me, prospects, Chibs sometimes."
"Then we follow them." She put the van into gear and placed her lemonade into the cup holder as she nodded to the group separating from their President.
After ten minutes of carefully tailing the Mayans, they were led to an industrial area near the rail line in San Leandro. Juice was using the GPS on his laptop to try and guide Sydney in order to avoid directly crossing paths with their enemy as they made their way through the maze of countless warehouses and factories.
"Shit." He cursed, smacking the screen a few times.
"What?" Sydney asked, worried.
"GPS died." He began mashing his fingers into buttons on the keyboard to try and reestablish a signal.
"Shit, Juice... They're gonna catch onto us." Sydney looked up as half of the Mayans took a sharp right into the warehouse gates while the other half stopped and looked at their van. "Fuck... Get in the back and lay down, now." She kept her eyes on the road while frantically searching the glove compartment for a map. She felt her hand brush against a gun and a pair of leather gloves - which almost made her chuckle - pulling the safety tab and tucking the gun under her leg. Just in case.
Just as she neared the two men, she found a crinkled map folded under a stack of expired insurance slips and owners manuals - ripping it open and beginning to make herself hyperventilate as she brought the van to a slow stop.
Two Mayans scoped out the suspicious vehicle that held the unexpected driver. "Oh my god, thank God I found you!" Sydney exclaimed in her best valley-girl voice. "Can you boys help me? I'm so lost and my boss was just in an accident. I need to get to Kaiser Medical Center." She spat out between her gasps for air, worry filling her tear-brimmed eyes.
The men looked to each other skeptically, but once they got a good look at her cleavage - they pointed her in the right direction. "Thank you boys so much, I promise I'll come back and return the favour." She added suggestively, the men raising their eyebrows excitedly at each other before walking off.
Sydney pulled the van to the dead-end at the bottom of the hill, making a gentle u-turn and starting back towards the highway. "We're good." She called back to Juice.
"Holy shit... We should've had a girl on the crew years ago!" He exclaimed in awe.
"That's what I've been tellin' ya, Juicey. Now put this shit back." She laughed, shoving the gun and map into his chest.
;
Sydney pulled the van back into TM after successfully completing their mission twenty minutes early. "Now, you bring Clay that address." She instructed Juice with a narrowed gaze, blinking as he thanked her for letting him take the credit by the depth behind his dark, glossy eyes.
The two walked in together, beaming as Juice held up the napkin with the address and presented it to Clay where he sat at a table with Tig, Bobby, and Chibs. "Tracked some of Alvarez's half bright prospects. Ran the address - looks like a dummy-corp."
"Good work, kids." Clay grinned.
Tig craned his head around to look closer at Sydney, concern washing over his face as he got up out of his chair and walked around the table, cupping her face once he reached her. "You been cryin', babygirl?" He rubbed his thumb under her eye.
Goddammit Juice - leave it to him not to tell her that her makeup was running. "Oh! No. I'm fine, it's nothing." She tried to brush it off, but Clay turned around to face her - his eyes pressing her for the truth.
"Lass." Chibs added with concern of his own.
Sydney gave Juice an apologetic glance when Tig didn't let up on his grip. "We had an issue with the GPS while we were following them to the warehouse, they spotted the van. Pretended I was just another dumb blonde needing directions, got the waterworks going so they wouldn't want anything to do with me."
"That what happened?" Clay glanced at Juice.
"Yup." Tig broke into a proud smile as Juice nodded where he stood with the stance of a soldier - his shoulders back and his hands cupped in front of him.
"Thinkin' on your feet... Good job, Princess." Clay nodded.
Sydney forced a smile, feeling Tig pull her in closer before she felt his lips on her forehead - a surprising act that had Chibs choking on his beer while Clay scowled, and Bobby raised his eyebrows. The warmth in her body spread to her face as she started to smile, but immediately snapped out of it. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." She uttered out before quickly slinking away towards the bathroom.
"You gonna follow her back there again?" Bobby joked as Tig watched her shuffle away.
"Thinkin' about it." Tig blinked thoughtfully as they all chuckled.
It had been almost a full ten minutes since Sydney had started blushing after Tig had kissed her forehead, and she still hadn't stopped - and being in the very bathroom with the vivid memory of him defiling her against the sink wasn't exactly helping her cause. She could even see the scuff mark on the wall where her stiletto had been resting. She couldn't help from glancing at the door, hoping that he would slip through like he did the night before...
She shook the hope away, fluffing her hair and starting for the door, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she swung it open, getting one foot across the threshold when she ran directly into a leather wall. She looked up to see those piercing blue eyes as Tig leant against the doorframe, smirking down at her.
"Waitin' for me, doll?"
"Maybe." She teased as she cocked a brow, looking up and lifting her lips towards his.
Tig leaned down to meet her halfway, but just before they made contact, she swiftly ducked under his arm and proceeded down the hallway. He hesitated momentarily, but hesitation was what had him in his current predicament - if he wanted her, he needed to act. He gave in, grabbing her elbow and lightly pulling her back to him. "You sure everything's okay?" He looked over her.
"What's it to ya?" She glanced up at him through her eyelashes.
"What do you mean?" He crinkled his eyebrows.
"Well, you've been ignoring me all day." She forced the corners of her mouth to stay in place, fighting her mischievous smirk.
"I care about you." He stated, cursing himself for giving her the wrong impression by not knowing how to move forward.
"You gonna make me a habit?" She raised a brow.
"You're mine." He said by way of an answer, staring deep into her eyes.
"Roger that." She cocked her head, her green eyes consumed by flames as the words left her mouth in a rasp before she leaned in and kissed him hard - running her tongue across his upper lip before sinking her teeth gently into his lower one, pulling back and letting go. "Sergeant." She cocked a brow and turned down the hall.
Tig released his grip and watched her walk away in disbelief before he pulled himself together, stalking out of the hallway to see her standing behind the bar. "Not so fast, Mrs. Dahmer." Sydney chuckled. "Mind telling me what the hell that was with Darby?" His squinted eyes twinkled.
"Just rolling out the welcome mat for our good friend, Ernie - teachin' him to mind his manners." She said casually as she turned towards the fridge.
"Where the hell did you come from?" He shook his head dreamily.
"Straight from your dreams, darlin'." She winked, sliding him a beer.
Chief Unser arrived at the clubhouse right on time. He was a shorter, much older man than Sydney had expected to see; actively balding with drooping eyes - the kind of man who looked like he could kick it any second.
"And who's this?" Unser asked, turning to Clay for an introduction as he shook the hand of the beautiful young woman whom he'd never seen before.
"Sydney Harding. Newest addition to our crew."
Sydney's stomach flipped as she heard the words for the first time - her ego inflating even larger when Unser scowled in confusion. "Nice to meet you." She said with a smile.
"Uh, you too, darling. Call me Wayne."
"Sure thing, Chief." She nodded.
Clay snorted, spending the next ten minutes convincing Unser that Darby was no threat to Charming - or their deal - which was not hard to do. Sydney could tell that the Chief had a soft spot for SAMCRO, one way or another, which explained why he seemed to be the only one in his office who accepted the take...
Sydney moved around the clubhouse, gathering her things after the meeting had ended and Clay had escorted the Chief back to his squad car. "Hey, uh, you heading home?" She heard behind her as she retrieved her purse from behind the bar, turning to see Half-Sack who was clearly feeling out of place among the men that hadn't quite accepted him as one of their own yet.
"Yeah, I was planning on it." She smiled sweetly. "What're you up to tonight?" She wouldn't mind hanging out if he didn't want to spend his Saturday night cleaning up puke from the bar floor.
The younger man's face lit up with excitement before Clay walked between them - cutting the moment short. "No you're not." He told Sydney. "Church."
She raised a brow expectantly at the prospect. "Guess not." She giggled, handing him her bag and following Clay into the chapel, claiming her seat at the table between Chibs and Happy.
"Mayan retaliation. We strike tonight. Me, Jax, Chibs, Ope and Tig." The President announced, earning a scowl from Juice. "The less bodies, the better. We do this quiet." He explained.
"Ope?" Happy asked with a scowl.
Clay looked uncertain with the decision, but continued anyway. "Needed someone for the pyro."
"Nobody blows shit up better than Ope." Tig nodded.
Sydney knew that he was right; Opie had just recently gotten out of jail after a beautiful arson where his chicken-shit of a getaway driver, Kyle Hobart, had abandoned him at the scene and left him to take the fall that he'd spent the last five years completing without a second thought - but still, nobody looked convinced.
"Ope's leaning right these days." Happy protested.
"Opie's gonna lean any way that we need him to." Clay pointed his finger, widening his eyes.
"He's just tryin' to get on his feet with his family, guys. He didn't turn on us when he was arrested - he's not gonna start now." Jax defended.
"How we doin this, man?" Tig questioned, getting antsy in his seat. The only thing that got him more excited than sex, was violence.
"No bikes, no kuttes. We take the van and the truck - hit it after sunset."
Sydney's admiration for her President as he spoke quickly overshadowed the slight disappointment that she felt when it was revealed that she would be sitting this one out. He was a strong leader, the kind that she would want to be; ruthless but calm, smart but not arrogant - he didn't let anger cloud his judgment. There was no bullshit or doubt in his voice when he addressed his crew, every single word held purpose.
"Weapons?" She heard from beside her, undoubtedly coming from the Sergeant-at-Arms himself.
"Hand guns, silencers - we don't take any risks out in Oak-town. We ain't got friends in places that high." He chuckled. "We leave here just after 10:00 P.M." He concluded with the slam of the gavel.
Sydney returned to the bar, fighting the deflation that she felt in her chest as everybody dispersed to carry out their tasks, but she wasn't about to pout about it - not in front of them, at least. She decided to stick around the clubhouse after all, with all of the excitement going on - knowing that Half-Sack would be stuck on call in case shit went south.
The spur-of-the-moment job had called for the bar to be closed to hangarounds tonight, which meant that Sydney could have some downtime without the distracting presence of croweaters or drunken bikers. She'd briefly thought about asking Gemma if she wanted to spend the night together, but something about knowing that there would be fire and blood, set her blood on fire. She'd been contained over the past month, Darby was merely a workout - giving her a taste for what she craved. She was dying to wreak some havoc.
;
Donna padded across the thriving green lawn that she'd spent so much time perfecting in her husband's absence, her bare feet carrying her to the slab of concrete that led to the garage where she knew she would find Opie.
"What are you doin'?" She asked cheerfully, glad that it was a question she could ask again - no matter how mundane the answer may be.
Opie straightened up from where his back was turned to her, shoving the last bundle of wires into his knapsack in hopes that she hadn't seen them. "I gotta make a run." He sighed.
Donna scowled as she ran through their itinerary for the evening. He hadn't mentioned picking up an extra shift at the lumber yard for her father, and she had made sure that all of the day's errands had been taken care of? But it all made sense when she saw it. The one thing that she had been wishing she could erase from her memory for the last five years: the reaper.
"What's in the bag?" She demanded.
"Nothing." Opie sighed as he pulled his kutte on, focusing on the zipper as she made her way across the garage to the bag that he had been packing.
"You promised you we're done with this..."
"It's got nothin' to do with you, Donna." He shook his head, refusing to meet the eyes that he knew would flood him with guilt as he went back on all of the promises that he'd made her.
"I'm the one who gets shit on if you get caught again!" She yanked the bag off of the work bench.
"It's not gonna happen." He growled.
"You sat in a cell for five years while Clay and the others got rich. They sold you out. You know that." She shook her head. "You're just too weak to stand up to them." She seethed as her chest began to heave - making a break for the open door.
"Give me the ba-" Opie reached for the pack in her hands. "Give me the bag!" He swiped it from the shorter woman easily.
"No!" Donna screamed even after the bag had been ripped from her grasp. "No! No! No!" Tears blurred her eyes as she pounded her fists against his chest while violent sobs rippled through hers.
"Donna." Opie sighed, reaching for her hands where she didn't stop. "Stop it..." He tried to calm her down, angry tears biting at his eyes as well as he faced the exact scenario that he'd been desperate to avoid. But his guilt turned to embarrassment as he turned to see that Jax was standing in the driveway, watching the entire thing. "Donna, come on." He told her more firmly this time as he wrapped his large arms around her, eventually shoving her off of him. "Stop it!"
Donna pulled away once she saw that she had an audience, but it didn't just consist of Jax, it consisted of her children; standing in the doorway, terrified. She stumbled back, swiping her hands over her reddened face where she looked up at her husband who was going to leave her alone to deal with the fallout - again.
Opie's eyes fell closed as he watched his family walk away from him, shaking his head as Jax approached before he slammed his fist into the old refrigerator behind him - pulling himself together as he slung the knapsack over his leather covered shoulders.
"Didn't hear you pull up." He greeted the blonde man by way of an apology.
"Nah... I parked down the block." Jax shook his head. "Didn't wanna tweak Donna..."
"I think she's already tweaked." He forced a smile.
"Yeah..." Jax nodded slowly as his own guilt crept in - guilt for putting the selfish needs of the club over those of his lifelong friend. "Stay here. I'll handle the run."
"Woah, woah, woah." Opie stopped him. "If I don't show up, Clay will chop off both of our dicks."
"I'll cover you with SAMCRO." He nodded assuringly.
"What about the boom?" He raised a brow.
"Ah." Jax swatted the air. "We'll figure it out - I'm sure the new girl will have some ideas about exactly how we should handle it." He scoffed.
"Yeah..." Opie's brows crinkled. He hadn't formally met Sydney yet, but word about their newest and unlikeliest associate had travelled fast. "What's that about?"
"The fuck if I know." Jax scoffed again. "Look, man... Donna know's the life. She'll come around - your family's just gotta adjust to you bein' around again... Your kid's have gotta get used to how ugly their dad is." A grin spread across his face as Opie cracked a smile.
"I thought that too, man..." He sighed. "But you leave a woman alone for five years, with two kids? All she knows is that she doesn't want it to happen again."
Jax nodded. He truly understood that now.
"You sure about this?" Opie looked over his friend gratefully.
"Go fix your family." Jax nodded, punching him in the shoulder with a playful smile.
;
Sydney had gotten herself a beer and set herself up at the tall table by the stripper pole where she began to unwind for the evening. The music was faint, and the lights were dimmed as she browsed on her iPhone, doing some online shopping when suddenly a heavy bag slammed down on the table, startling her.
"Jesus Christ." She dropped her phone, slapping her hand over her heart where she saw Tig who had changed into a grey hoodie, standing above her with a smirk.
"Just can't get enough of me, can ya pussycat?" He teased, unzipping the bag of handguns and silencers.
"I never will." She said with that devilish smirk on her lips.
Tig smiled bashfully, watching as she reached into the bag and began attaching the silencers to the Glocks with ease. Sydney pretended to be oblivious to his stare, but Half-Sack wasn't - he could see the way that Tig was looking at her from a mile away.
"Where'd you learn to do all this shit?" He asked with bated breath as admiration laced itself in his suddenly quiet voice.
"My da-." Sydney answered without a second thought, recoiling in shock as the words that she still hadn't quite processed the weight of, lodged themselves in her throat. "My dad." She forced them out, clearing her throat as the unexpected pain spread through her chest.
Accepting that her dad was gone was something that Sydney had not even come close to doing. In her mind, he was just on a long run, or waiting back home for her to come and visit. She had pushed all thoughts of him deep into the back of her mind since the day that she'd found him lying dead in their living room, but Tig had just inadvertently ripped them right out.
She bit the inside of her lip as she fought the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. Her dad had been her best friend - her rock, her mentor, her saviour. Everything she had, everything she'd learned, everything she'd accomplished - she owed to him. She felt Tig grab her hand, his touch sending a shock through her body, making her flinch where she looked up to meet his sympathetic eyes. She quickly looked away, not ready to show him that kind of vulnerability yet - but she didn't let go of his hand, squeezing it tight as she held her head down. She felt herself beginning to recover as she focused solely on the feeling - it was warm and comforting, not rough and masculine like it had been before.
"Shit!" Like clockwork, the moment was interrupted as Clay kicked over a barstool as he stormed into the clubhouse.
Tig immediately jumped up. "What happened?"
"Ope ain't comin'. Jax says somethin' with his kid, but I call bullshit!" He sneered, wracking his brain for another option. "What the fuck are we gonna do now?" He snarled - knowing that nobody in his company knew the first thing about pyrotechnics.
"We can do it without him, man." Tig assured him - he no idea how, but he knew that they would figure it out.
"Let me come." Sydney piped up as she hopped off of her stool, her request coming across as more of a demand than a question as Clay and Tig both whipped their heads around to face her. "We can use blow torches and diesel instead of a bomb. It's not as fast but it's better than tripping the wrong wire." Clay looked skeptical, but he didn't outright say no, so she kept pushing. "I know where the warehouse is, and the best place to hit it from."
"Fine." He realized that she wasn't going to let up. "You and Tig go and get Ope's truck. Me, Jax, and Chibs will take the van." He stormed off without another word.
As soon as Clay was gone, Sydney looked at Tig and grinned, unable to contain the excitement of getting to go on her first official SAMCRO job - even if the circumstances hadn't been ideal.
Tig just laughed and shook his head, impressed that she'd managed to talk her way into achieving her goal - especially while Clay was mad. But he supposed that was how she'd secured her spot in the club in the first place, by showing up just when they'd needed her.
Half-Sack ran over and picked her up into a hug as he spun her around. "Holy shit, that was so cool!" He shared in Sydney's excitement, the two of them happy-dancing like a couple of elementary students while Tig stood with his brow raised, and his hands on his hips
Sydney laughed before smacking him on the bicep. "Come on, Tiggy. We have a job to do." She told him before skipping out the door.
Tig laughed at her excitement once again, following her outside while she did front walkovers on the way to the car - witnessing the act alone being enough to make him dizzy.
"Nah-ah, Sergeant." She scolded as he reached for the handle of her passenger door. "Take your bike. We stop at my house for a bit and then head to Ope's in my car, leave it there while we have his truck. If he really is bullshitting, his wife seeing a Harley parked in their driveway won't help his case." She grimaced. " We'll drop the truck back off when we're done, and you can ride back here from my place. It's gonna be a late night and I need my beauty sleep."
Tig stood motionless for a second, taking in the abundance of information that he hadn't even considered. "Yes ma'am." He nodded as if he really had a choice, not knowing that Sydney's plan was in the favour of anything but convenience - she just wanted an excuse to have him alone at her house for as long as possible.
The two headed off, taking turns brake-checking each other and weaving in and out of traffic - laughing the entire way. They had a couple of hours to kill before they needed to head to Opie's, and Sydney had no idea what was going to happen. They'd spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks, but the dynamic had changed drastically.
Sydney put on her favourite Marvel movie to fill the silence once they got there - the one that Tig had told her on numerous occasions that he hated. "Oh come on, doll... This again?" He groaned when he saw the opening credits for the film that she'd already made him watch twice.
"Of course, Tiggy! I know it's your favorite." She smiled evilly as she sat down on the couch next to him.
Sydney watched the movie lazily, the repetitiveness making it hard to focus with Tig sitting so close to her. She looked over her shoulder, seeing the gorgeous man lounging with his arm across the backrest of the couch - a peaceful sight that she could happily get used to. Her initial intention was just to push him into making a move, but apparently he'd found solace in her, just as much as she had in him.
Sydney had seen many failed relationships, but had never actually had any of her own - and maybe that was exactly why. She'd seen how boring things became after settling down - the lust, the excitement, the uncertainty always faded, and people became miserable. She couldn't push herself to make the leap of faith with Tig yet, even if something deep down told her that a relationship with him could never be boring.
Before they knew it, the ending credits of the movie were rolling across the TV screen. It took Sydney a second to realize that she was actually there, and that she had managed to zone out for the entirety of the movie. "Like it yet?" She turned to a dozy Tig with a smile.
"I think one more time and I'll be sold." He chuckled, beginning to sit up as she got up to turn the TV off, wincing as he massaged the back of his neck.
Tig's eyes were closed when suddenly a jolt ran through his body as he felt her hand on his cheek, hearing her soft giggle before slowly opening his eyes while her nails tickled his neck as she moved her hand back.
"C'mere." She sat back down and scooted sideways, patting the couch in front of her.
Tig closed his eyes as he did as he was told and leaned back - her gentle touch turning into light pressure on the tense muscles in his shoulders as they began to relax under her rolling fingers. The feeling was bliss - pure, comforting, untainted bliss. His eyes snapped open a few minutes later, realizing that her touch had begun to lull him back to sleep.
"Happy ending?" She asked with a giggle that shot him straight in the heart.
Tig barked out an unfiltered laugh - something that he was unfamiliar with doing around a woman. "Mmm, don't tempt me when we got a deadline, baby." He hummed as he closed his eyes again.
"I can be quick." She breathed into his ear, smirking when his eyes flew open and he sat up off of her lap.
Sydney smiled smugly, getting up off the couch and heading down the hall so that she could get changed. "We probably won't be eating for a while, so you can help yourself." She called over her shoulder before disappearing up the stairs.
Tig stood in the same position, pondering everything - trying to remind himself of all of the excuses that he'd managed to live with over the last fifteen years; pussy is a distraction, women cause nothing but problems, she will try to change you. But he couldn't. Easy pussy in the life of a biker made it so easy to forget what it was like to have something real, to want something real - something worth the risk. Tig was a fearless man, he would take a bullet for any one of his brothers without a second thought - but he was terrified to admit that he was falling head over heels in love.
;
Songs for this chapter
damn! - Jeris Johnson & Ricky Desktop (Chad Kroeger Remix)
Strange Love - Halsey
Hypnotic - Zella Day