Sydney finds herself drowning in the run-off of the melting ice that she's been walking on, a whirlpool of successes and failures pushing and pulling her in different directions, meanwhile Tig enjoys a night of smooth sailing in the desert.

General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.

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CHAPTER 32: TIDAL WAVES

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"There's some white bitch here to see you." Tanisha's voice crackled through the speaker of Laroy's phone as she barked down the line.

"Goddamn…" He assumed that by the snip in her tone - and their current standing - that she had to have been talking about the Sons. "Aight." The gang leader snapped his burner shut, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he motioned for his crew to follow him back to headquarters so that they could deal with the high-maintenance bikers.

Less than ten minutes later, the all-black crew bursted through the door of their own bar with guns in hand, the heavy metal swinging on the hinges from the force of the intimidating push as two men cleared the entrance, ensuring the safety of their leader before they dared to allow him in.

Sydney looked up from her drink where she sat in the corner booth, her brow raising almost as high as their standards for precaution, giving her a better understanding of their lack of patience for delayed orders if these were the types of security measures that they had to take.

"It's a friendly visit, actually." She blinked in a deadpan as the large men stood before her with their weapons brandished, and their brows furrowed.

Darnell's scowl only deepened as he looked around the empty bar, his confused gaze shifting to his brother when he saw that the source of the 'threat', was revealed to be one singular woman.

"I guess when she said 'bitch', she really meant bitch." Teaj laughed, lowering his weapon before stalking to the door where he gave Laroy the signal that the coast was clear. Clearly the surprise visitor was just another one of his heartbroken, one-night stands looking for abortion money.

"Who the hell are you?" Laroy greeted the unwelcome guest who was keeping him from tending to business, immediately regretting his choice of words when Darnell moved out of the way to reveal the prime piece of ass that was waiting for him.

"Hi, Mr. Wayne." Sydney greeted the shot-caller with a flirty grin as she twirled her straw around her finger.

"Can I kick her out now?" Tanisha impatiently groaned from across the room.

"Nah... Shawty can hang." Laroy recognized the raspy coo immediately, realizing that there had been a threat after all... "Where your little bitch boys at?" He nodded.

"I wanted to come talk to you myself..." She stood from the table, giving him a proper view of her revealing outfit that left just enough to the imagination. "Alone?" She quirked a brow.

"Yeah... Okay." He bit his lip, nodding for her to follow as he headed towards the back of the building.

Sydney smirked at the dark-haired girl where she huffed behind the bar, following Laroy with a swing in her hips as he led her down a short hallway and into the area of the establishment where they conducted their actual business - not the front that they used the local hangout spot for.

"So, what can I do for you?" The short-haired man sat down once they were in the private room, kicking back across the black leather of the worn couch.

"I hear you're too scared to touch our guns." She cut right to the chase, speaking the blunt statement with a taunt as she sat herself down next to him. "Now, I didn't take you to be a man of fear, Mr. Wayne..." She narrowed her eyes.

"You think you're gonna come up here and sweet talk your way into changin' my mind?" He didn't bother defending himself against her insulting accusation.

"Well, it wasn't exactly my sweet talking that I was planning on relying on..." She spoke in a low voice as she leant into him, swinging her leg over his lap and getting settled. "But my mouth..."

"What about that old man of yours?" He sat still, not daring to reveal just how easily he was willing to give in if this was how she was planning on convincing him.

"Well he ain't here, is he?" She spoke against his neck, sliding her hands over his chest.

Laroy smirked when she purred into his ear, bringing his hands up her smooth thighs before grabbing a handful of that thick, juicy ass that had no business on a white girl. He leaned up to meet her lips properly, but before he could do so, she fell back onto the couch, pulling him down on top of her. He chuckled at her eagerness, pressing his pelvis against hers as he leant in to kiss her again, but this time the action didn't land him between her legs - it landed him on the ground, with a gun between his eyes.

Sydney smirked as she held her finger over the trigger of her trusty Colt Pony - the tiny gun that she could hide just about anywhere. "Damn... I thought you'd at least give me a little bit of a fight." She pouted. The man had made it far too easy for her to get him into the exact position that she wanted him in.

"What the hell is this?" He raised his voice, glaring into her evil green eyes as his widened in a flash of rage.

"You're gonna take those guns." She sneered as those evil green eyes began to widen in demand.

"The fuck I am-" She cocked her gun, pressing it harder against his forehead.

"Yes. You. Are." She growled through gritted teeth as her vision began to blur with the restraint that she was putting on herself as all of her anger from the last few days took over. "And if you don't, I'm gonna shoot you."

"You kill me, my boys'll come in here and destroy that-"

"I never said I was gonna kill you, Mr. Wayne." She cut him off. "I said I was gonna shoot you. Right here." She jabbed her gun between his lungs. "Nothin' too serious, you'll live if you get immediate medical attention." She shrugged. "But if you decide that you don't wanna be my safe ticket outta here..." She tilted her head, jutting out those pouty lips.

"You kill me? They rip up that tight little body, then they kill you. You shoot me? It'll just take a little longer for them to get the job done." He sneered.

"You think I haven't thought of that, sweetheart?" She scoffed. "I'd like to see them try, they'll end up like all of the other men who have tried to rape and kill me."

"How am I supposed to know you ain't lyin'?" He tried calling her bluff, figuring it was the only possible way that he had out of this. Even if he had his doubts about the ability of the tiny girl to defend herself against a gang of fully grown men, she was the one who had him on his back right now.

"You ever heard of The Cali Queen?" She raised a brow.

"Southern Cali mob boss, the fuck's that got to do with anything?"

"That's where you're wrong..." She brushed her straightened hair out of the way, drawing his attention to the tattoo that sat on her chest.

Laroy's dark eyes widened when he made sense of what she was trying to tell him. Never in a million years had he expected the reputation of the distant criminal to belong to such a young, and beautiful woman.

"Your boys even think about touching me? You'll have all of Charming, San Bernardino, and Tacoma after you." She sneered. "So, how about those guns?"

"I'm listenin'." He sighed in begrudged defeat, knowing that the instant gratification of offing the mouthy little tart was not worth the war that it would start. Besides - the bubbly little girl was much more enjoyable to deal with than the grumpy old man.

"You're gonna take those two orders, and you're going to keep ordering as usual. I'll even let you have the first two for fifty - a discount for the bruised ego." She smiled cockily while he glared at her from where she still had him pinned below her.

"Aight." He spit out.

"Glad we could come to an agreement, Mr. Wayne." She smiled cheerily, bracing herself against his chest as she got to her feet, turning to walk out the door as he coughed.

"I'll only do it if-" She turned back around, looking to him expectantly as he sat up. "You're there. I ain't dealing with that old man no more."

"Deal." She smiled. "I'll have my bitch boys set it up." She winked.

;

"You okay?" Sydney heard from behind her as she sat on her knees on the kitchen floor, unable to formulate any kind of response while nothing but the pure, uncut, rush of proper revenge coursed through her body for the very first time.

She stared blankly at the monster that had plagued her childhood, had torn her family apart - now a bloodied corpse. Her chest began to heave with unbridled excitement, and a sinister grin began to spread across her face as she slowly rose to her feet.

"We should get out of here." Happy warned, worried that the true realization of what she'd just done was soon to come as the high wore off, and he wanted her to be far away from the crime scene when that happened.

"In a minute." She spoke distantly as she took a step towards the mutilated body that was tied to the kitchen chair, dragging her finger through the blood that was still draining from his neck.

"Sydney. We need to go." He huffed.

She ignored him, walking down the hallway with blood dripping from her finger, the red trail leading into the bathroom where she stood in front of the mirror.

"What's that?" Happy stood in the doorway, watching her stained finger move across the mirror as she finished drawing the bloody crown.

Sydney looked back at the bald man, seeing the worry in his eyes that she'd only seen a few times throughout her life. But she stared at him with a softness behind hers - a softness that only came from a complete sense of inner peace.

"Who I am now." She nodded.

Sydney smiled at the memory as she drove back to Charming with a cigarette in her hand. She'd seen her fair share of blood and bodies by then - thanks to Happy - but it was the first time that she had actually killed, and after that first time? She knew that there would be more - that the outlaw life was the life for her. That monumental day, The Cali Queen had been born; claiming Sydney Harding's first worthy victim under a name that she knew would bring her face to face with many more - just like her dad had taught her.

After that, the majority of her reputation and real experience came from Happy - he'd always been glad to share his workload and help her build her portfolio, and she'd loved working alongside her partner in crime, not being limited to SAMDINO where substantial bloodbaths rarely occurred. But what she'd always loved most about working with Happy, was that he let her work alone - as herself, not as an associate.

She felt her eyes beginning to prick with the threat of tears as she thought about her family - a feeling that, for once, she didn't fight off as she allowed herself the brief moment to reminisce on the past instead of pile-driving all of her focus into her future. Eventually the moment of peace passed, her tears dried, and a smile spread across her face as she was graced with the bittersweet epiphany that leaving her old life behind, both physically and mentally, wasn't just a way to dodge heartache. It was, for the first time in her entire life, a way to earn her way in as her. Not as the former VP's daughter, not as a SAMDINO associate, not as Happy's sidekick, not even as The Cali Queen, but as Sydney Jade Harding.

As the smile began to fade from her face, a sign advertising the sandy beaches of Anu Nuevo State Park hidden in the redwood trees along the scenic drive that she'd decided to take back to Charming, reignited it. She gripped the steering wheel, deciding to take advantage of the day as she meandered through the tall trees and eventually found the entrance to the relatively empty parking lot on the quiet Monday afternoon. She gathered up her things - sunglasses, keys, phone, before deciding that she would benefit from a few uninterrupted hours with nature, thumbing a quick text to Happy before leaving it behind.

S: Thank you for everything you've done for me. Te amo

She pulled her strappy heels off and walked barefoot down the path that led to the beach at the bottom of the hill, taking a deep breath of salty ocean air as the sun shone down on her exposed skin and the waves crashed against the shore - allowing herself to selfishly soak up as much of the peace as she could before she had to deal with the inner turmoil that the next twenty-four hours would bring.

She walked along the entire length of the beach, and back - finding a secluded, sunny spot where she laid herself down in the hot sand without a care in the world for the fact that her clothing would be covered in dust after, closing her eyes and tipping her head towards the sky where she slipped into a peaceful trance that quickly turned to sleep under the warmth of the sun.

Sydney was riding a wave with perfect balance, howling with excitement as the warm wind whipped her wet hair around her face and the sea sprayed her body where she was showing no signs of crashing any time soon. She looked around the tropical location that she was surfing in, her eyes eventually landing on the white sand of the beach where everybody that she loved was cheering her on; Gemma, Happy, Half-Sack.

She felt a scowl coming to her face as she looked for Tig among the crowd, the crease ironing out once she finally caught a glimpse of that dark, curly hair.

But the relief was immediately replaced with a sinking in her heart, the board beginning to wobble beneath her feet. There Tig was, with another woman. With his arms around her. With his lips pressed against her neck.

And then she felt the wave knock her clean off of her feet, and she went crashing into the ocean that threatened to swallow her whole.

Sydney's eyes flew open and her body jolted upright, frantically patting herself down for moisture as she looked around for the source of her panic before she realized that it was just a dream. "Fuck." She cursed when she realized that she had fallen asleep, noting that the sun was much lower in the sky now than it had been when she'd arrived... "Fuck!" She got to her feet hastily, the uncomfortable dream fading into the back of her mind as she kicked up sand behind her while scurrying back up to her car in hopes that nothing had gone askew in the hopefully short time that she had been asleep.

"Fuck!" She cursed again when she picked up her phone, sitting against the hot leather of the black seat with no regard for the fact that it was burning her exposed skin. Her only focus was the screen that displayed the multiple calls and messages that she had missed in the nearly four hours that she'd been asleep.

Gemma 3:13 P.M.

Where the hell are you?

Tiggy 2:54 P.M.

Made it safe. No shoot out this time ;) I miss that pussy already...

Missed call (2) 2:37 P.M.

Gemma

Happy Feet 2:12 P.M.

U too

Missed call 12:47 P.M.

Gemma

She breathed a sigh of relief when the only concerning messages were from Gemma wondering where she was - glad to hear that the Mayans hadn't caused any problems on their ride out, and even gladder that they were out of town, or else Gemma would've sent out a search party. She scoffed at Happy's reply, sliding her thumb across the screen to plead her case to The Queen.

Gemma's eyes darted to the screen of her flip phone when it buzzed against the desk with a text message, feeling her heart beginning to skip. She tried to calm the racing behind her chest that she knew could be dangerous if she didn't get a handle on it - but she couldn't help it. She'd been on high alert all day, worrying about the safety of her boys after what had happened the last time that they'd tried to cross into Nevada.

Sydney: Sorry Gem, was handling business. I'm fine. And before you worry again, Clay knows.

She shook her head as she read Sydney's message, feeling the thumping above her ribs beginning to slow before tossing her phone back onto the desk with a smirk.

;

Tig half-heartedly listened to Clay pitch the guns to the former Devil's Tribe members, stepping out of the chapel where he glanced at the screen for what felt like the hundredth time since he'd texted Sydney hours ago - a little discouraged that she hadn't responded. He tucked it back into the pocket of his kutte, looking around the room to see if his absence had been detected by anybody as he decided not to think too much about it until the deal was complete, Gemma was probably just working her extra hard to pick up the slack with everyone being gone for the day.

"Is he gone?" Half-Sack asked from behind the Indian Hills clubhouse bar where he had scurried away from the little brunette that had offered him a beer - and a conversation much more interesting than he could have ever expected.

"Yeah." Cherry chuckled, biting her lip as she crossed her legs under the table.

"Okay." Half-Sack smiled that goofy smile that he was known for, the display much grander in the presence of the brown-eyed girl. "Where were you sayin' your cousin's stationed?"

"Oh." Cherry shook her head, sliding herself out of her chair. "It's okay, I should get back to work." She nodded. She knew the deal with these guys - a woman's mouth was only good for one thing.

"No." Half-Sack grabbed her hand as she tried to slip away. "I, uh." He pulled away nervously. "I like talking to you... You know... About, stuff." He blinked as he looked around the room.

"Oh." Cherry blinked as she felt her cheeks beginning to pinken. "He's stationed in Iraq. He still has both of his nuts, but... He's lost a couple buddies." She smiled sympathetically as she sat back down.

"Yeah." Half-Sack nodded, leaning over the table. "You know, sometimes I feel guilty that I left after just one T.O.D." He sighed.

"You shouldn't." Cherry shook her head as she reached for his hand. "I mean... You're a hero."

Half-Sack felt himself freeze up as she looked at him like that. "Don't-" He began to correct her, but he stopped himself. Sydney was right, he needed to give himself more credit.

"Can you still have kids, or?" Cherry shook her head inquisitively.

"Yeah." He chuckled as he brought his beer to his lips. "Yeah, lefty is real potent." He chuckled.

;

Sydney had almost made it back home when her phone began vibrating in the seat next to her. She groaned as she rolled her eyes, assuming that it was Gemma calling with the inevitable lecture, but she instead saw that it was Tig - which did nothing to ease her expression. She tossed the buzzing phone into the cupholder, deciding that it would be better to talk to him later when she was at home, and he was hopefully too drunk to remember any of the questions that he was currently calling her to ask.

Tig's brows knit when his call went ignored, just like his text had. The lull in business while Jury was discussing the offer - or the ultimatum, rather - with his crew before the celebratory liquor would begin to flow steady enough to distract him seemed to drag on, so he decided to call Piney. The old man was around the clubhouse today, he would surely know where Sydney was - and he would be much less smug about it than Gemma would.

"Yeah." Piney grumbled into the phone as he set his bottle of tequila down on the bartop.

"You know where Syd is?" Tig got right to the point, he didn't have time for pleasantries with the man that he knew wouldn't appreciate them anyways.

"Nah. She, uh, she raced outta here pretty much right after you guys left."

"What?" Tig barked down the line. "Where the hell'd she go?"

"Didn't say." Piney shrugged. "You know, your old lady doesn't take too kindly to people prying into her shit."

"No... She doesn't." Tig growled as he hung up the phone, grinding his teeth as he pondered the situation before feeling a large hand on his back.

"Everything okay?" Clay asked quietly.

"Syd ran off."

The crease in Clay's forehead deepened when he realized that yet again, Tig's only concern was her. "Ah, I'm sure she's fine, brother. Probably off gettin' her nails done, or shoppin' or some shit for when you get back." He raised a brow suggestively. He knew exactly where Sydney had run off to, and the last thing that he needed was Tig blowing it up.

"Yeah, yeah you're right, man." Tig pursed his lips and nodded, choosing to obey rather than combat - something that he hadn't done enough of lately, and he knew that Clay was picking up on it.

Once Sydney was home, she changed into something much more comfortable than the tight, sand-filled ensemble that she'd stuffed herself into that morning, and sat on the couch with a glass of wine - wearily picking up her phone to call Tig. She downed every last drop as the line trilled, beginning to breathe a sigh of relief when it went to voicemail, until she began thinking about why it had gone to voicemail - the gut wrenching thoughts creeping back into her mind as she wondered if it had begun already.

;

As soon as Indian Hills had reluctantly accepted the offer, just as Tig had expected, the partying took off and he had completely forgotten about his ignored calls as his attention turned to the thing that he had always loved most; free-flowing alcohol, scantily-clad women, and the company of his brothers. He was sitting on an old, beige coloured couch next to the SAMNOV President with a hot brunette on his knee, whom he ignored as she fought for the attention that he had happily given her just a couple of months ago at the patch over party. He no longer had any interest in her or what he knew she was offering, but he wasn't used to brushing girls off - something that the nymphomaniac of a man wouldn't even have considered doing if it weren't for Sydney.

She continued her fight, sliding her hand up his chest where she smiled at him as she leant into his ear, but he stopped her before she could speak. "Hey, doll? I'm good." He grabbed her hand, sliding it back down his chest and pushing her away from him gently. "Why don't ya go see about him, hmm?" He patted her thigh, nodding to Juice who stood in the middle of the room looking overwhelmed - likely a combination of the still healing concussion, and large influx of women.

The brown-eyed girl smiled at the request of the Redwood Sergeant, getting up and strutting over to the Puerto Rican who looked like a lost puppy, offering him some much-needed guidance. Tig chuckled as Juice's eyes widened and he followed her towards the back of the clubhouse, turning his attention back to the conversation that he was previously trying to have.

"No pussy tonight? Or just not that one?" Rollie Thurman chuckled heartily, raising his nearly white brow in question at the sex-crazed man who he'd known to throw tantrums when he didn't get the opportunity that he had just been hand fed.

"I can barely keep up with the pussy I got at home, brother." Tig scoffed, tipping his beer towards the light-haired man with a smirk.

"Didn't think you had a limit."

"Ah, you haven't met my old lady." He grinned.

"Old lady?" Rollie's eyes nearly popped out of his head when Tig spoke the two words that he never thought he'd hear coming out of the Sergeant's mouth. "Damn, brother..." He shook his head.

"Yeah, I know." Tig looked to the ground bashfully. "You do know her actually - talked on the phone about the ride."

"Ah shit, that one was yours? Sounded young… Tight." He smirked slyly.

"You got no idea..." Tig groaned, his mind drifting to Sydney's hot little body - that tight little number that she'd worn for him, remembering that he was due for some road photos. He zoned out again as he reached into his pocket, too entranced by the thought of his phone screen being taken up by explicit photos of her, to listen to what Rollie was saying. But when he pulled it out, all he had from her was one missed call.

"So she ain't anybody's old lady?" Clay nodded to Cherry as she and Half-Sack swayed around the dance floor in a passionate embrace.

"Nah, she's just a sweetbutt." Jury nodded. "A good girl, though."

"Perfect." Clay smirked as he made his way over to the shrimpy pair where he nearly trampled them.

Half-Sack blinked out of Cherry's captivating gaze as Clay hovered over them, close enough that he could smell the liquor on his breath.

"Can I cut in?" He raised a brow.

"Uh, yeah." Half-Sack blinked under the request of his President. "Sure." He begrudgingly pulled himself out of her grasp.

Cherry looked over Half-Sack as the SAMCRO President stared down at her, wishing that she had missed the nod that Jury had given her from where he sat at the bar, reminding her of her job. "Hi." She plastered a smile on her lips as she draped her arms over his shoulders.

"You're gonna be the perfect present for my old friend." Clay nodded as he stroked her delicate hands, shifting his gaze to Half-Sack. "I bet you'll give him a serious chubby."

The colour drained from Half-Sacks face as he realized what this was - some kind of sick recompense for what he'd been dared to say to Gemma during what was supposed to be a harmless game, that he now knew to have been a cardinal sin.

"You gonna show me pictures?" Rollie asked again as he watched the dazed Sergeant thumbing through his burner with a scowl.

Tig raised a brow, sitting frozen for a few seconds before he realized what Rollie meant. He dug into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet where he retrieved the photos that he had of Sydney from the fair.

"I know it ain't the kind you were hopin' for, but..." Tig chortled, handing the strip of photos over to Rollie's massive hand.

"You're fucking with me man." Rollie shook his head in bewilderment, slapping Tig in the chest with the photos that he refused to believe the sight of.

"Nah, man." Tig grinned a grin of pure gloat as he showed off his absolute trophy of an old lady.

"I see why you wanna keep that one around... Me on the other hand?" The desert-dweller groaned as he scanned his selection, a smile coming to his face as Clay walked over to them with a tight little brunette.

"What'd I tell ya?" The President grinned. "Thank you gift for helpin' out our new brothers." He passed Cherry off onto the burly man, avoiding the sadness in her eyes that almost made him feel bad.

Tig chuckled half-heartedly before snapping his head back down to look at the pictures before he went to tuck them back into the safety of his wallet - getting lost in those eyes, just like he always did... He pulled out his phone and flipped it open again, scrolling through his contacts until he made it to Sydney's name.

"All that new pussy you were so excited about, and you're sittin' alone?" Clay dropped down next to his friend with a playful smile. "Even the prospect had company." He raised a brow.

"Eh, I think I'd like to keep my balls a little longer." Tig chuckled, quickly sliding both his phone and wallet back into his pocket.

"You know I'll drink to that." Clay held up his beer with a chuckle, clinking it against Tig's in a toast to their badass women. "C'mon, if we ain't gettin' laid tonight, I think we need somethin' a little stronger than beer." He clapped his shoulder, lifting him from the couch and ushering him over to the bar.

;

Sydney's entire plan after her encounter with Laroy was to be so exhausted that she wouldn't be able to do anything except pass out the second that her head hit the pillow, but the carelessness of her beach detour had foiled her efforts completely. Instead, she now sat in the dark, forced to think about how stupid she had been to have let Tig go on a run after almost a week without sex. She'd been so preoccupied with trying to avoid intimacy in worry that it would lead to spending the night together, that she hadn't even realized that the consequences to not spending the night together were much worse...

;

Tig stumbled around the Indian Hills clubhouse looking for a suitable place to pass out, tripping over the unconscious partiers that littered the room until he decided that a bathroom would be his best bet. He managed to find a private one in a dorm room where Jax and some blonde were already asleep. Some blonde... Sydney was blonde. He smiled lazily as he thought about the gorgeous woman that he got to call his. Even in his state of extreme intoxication, he was surprised to find that he was able to have had such a good night without pussy. No pussy - the one downside to a relationship. It really hadn't bothered him much, he wasn't incapable of keeping it in his pants - especially when she gave it up around the clock at home - but he'd always had more fun when he didn't have to. So he was glad to have found that it hadn't affected his ability to enjoy the occasion. Maybe runs could still be fun...

He pulled out his phone again, dialing Sydney's number as he curled up in the bathtub, drifting off as the phone rang and eventually went to voicemail.

Sydney was still awake when her phone started ringing at the offending hour, still trying to convince herself that she could have slept with him everyday leading up to the run, and it wouldn't have changed his desire for road pussy. She stared at her phone until the call screen faded, squeezing her eyes shut in defeat. Even after the hours of endless contemplation, she still couldn't help but feel like once again, it was her fault - that she was fucking up everything. She knew how to navigate everything in this life, except a relationship.

;

Song for this chapter

100 Little Deaths - Lilith Czar

High By the Beach - Lana Del Rey

Tidal Wave - Nickelback