A routine maintenance dig off of the highway between Charming and Lodi unearth one - or three - of the many skeletons that Clay thought he'd tucked tightly into the back of his closet, throwing Gemma and Tig into a panic that their dirty little secret may not be six feet under, after all.
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 36: OLD SKULLS
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Tig smirked as he walked behind Sydney while she led him out of the clubhouse, his eyes glued to her ass where his dark red handprint peeked out from the bottom of the skimpy shorts that she wore. She led him out onto the compound where they were met by Half-Sack boxing in the ring while Chibs coached him, taking a seat at a nearby picnic table where Bobby was sitting, to enjoy the lunchtime entertainment.
"You okay, baby?" Tig smirked as he watched Sydney winced as she sat down, narrowing his eyes knowingly as she shifted to get comfortable.
Sydney bit her lip and smiled bashfully, looking up at him with starry eyes and glowing cheeks as he stood over her, looking far too good in the all black ensemble, complete with his dark sunglasses. He smiled back, climbing onto the picnic table behind her where he put his legs on either side of her so that she could rest her head against his knee.
"Why don't you get him a real opponent?" Sydney asked Bobby as Tig gently caressed her face while his other arm draped over her shoulder and held onto both of her hands, eyeing the poor prospect who she could tell was dying to blow off some steam as he bounced from one side of the ring to the other.
"And who do you suggest I use for that?" The older man raised a brow.
"Lowell." Tig answered with a shit-eating grin as he turned toward the garage where the young mechanic was working away furiously. Bobby raised a brow, but a smirk tugged at his lips as he sauntered over to the twitchy man and ordered him to suit up.
"You work shit out with Jax?" Tig removed his sunglasses and lowered his mouth to Sydney's ear once Bobby was gone, supporting her still heavy head while she strained her neck to look up at him, running his thumb along her jaw.
"Yeah." She nodded softly. "He apologized... Talked to Tara and said he would handle Kohn."
"You think he could do it?" He squinted.
Sydney wasn't surprised when the Sergeant thought that 'handling Kohn' meant axing him - it had been her first thought too, but she knew better than to expect that from the gold-hearted VP. "I don't know if it'll come to that…" She answered as truthfully as possible without telling him that she'd advised he do the exact opposite - something that they did not do. "But if anyone can push him to it, it's her."
Tig nodded his agreement, his attention turning to Lowell who entered the ring and began sparring with Half-Sack. The kid wasn't bad, but the years of drug use had definitely dulled his senses, because he wasn't nearly as sharp as he used to be.
"You know I'm still gonna beat his ass, right?" Tig looked back down at Sydney with a raised brow.
"Of course." She laughed, her eyes flicking to his lips.
He craned his neck to kiss her deeply, smiling against her mouth before pulling away and wrapping his arms around her, hugging her as he rubbed small circles over her chest with his thumbs. The brutal session had definitely had the desired effect - her breakdown followed by multiple orgasms had her clinging to him like she never had before.
"We can go back inside and lay down, if you want..." He mumbled into her hair while he pressed his lips to the top of her head, knowing that she was craving more closeness than he could give her in the open - if that was possible.
"I think we'll both end up with sore asses if we do that…" She chortled as Clay drove into the lot.
"Yeah… Me too." Tig chuckled. "You stayin' with me tonight?" She looked up and nodded with those innocent eyes, the action drawing his head down for another kiss. "I love you." He spoke with his eyes closed, and a smile on his face when their lips parted.
"I love you more." She nodded sincerely, swooning under his softness after she had experienced its equally intoxicating counterpart.
"I'm gonna throw up." Bobby grumbled, tipping his beer back. Tig was the one who sported a bashful smile now, pulling out a pack of smokes as he turned his attention towards the fight where Half-Sack had Lowell backed into a corner. "Hands up, Lowell!" Bobby shook his head.
"Now you're getting cocky..." Chibs shook his head from the sidelines as Half-Sack jumped from side to side in front of his sluggish opponent. "Anybody can beat up a junkie, prospect - doesn't mean shit."
"Hey, where'd you learn how to fight like this?" Jessica crossed her arms as she leaned onto the ring, her brown eye sparkling up at the prospect as Chibs tipped her a wink.
"Uh, you know." Half-Sack panted. "I was junior lightweight champion - armed forced boxing competition." But the distraction earned him a right hook to the side of his unprotected face.
Sydney accepted the cigarette that Tig passed down to her, snorting when she lit up as Lowell got in his first solid hit.
"Jesus Christ!" Clay groaned as he approached the picnic table, getting an eyeful of Sydney's hickey, Tig's red face, and their collectively wild hair. "I try to keep you two busy, and you still find time?"
"Lunch break! Come on, boss... A girl's gotta eat." Sydney mused with a sly smile. "And besides, you didn't let me finish my breakfast." She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her nose up theatrically.
"Alright, well I trust now that you've got a belly full of Tigger juice, you won't need to eat for the rest of the day." He tilted his head as he smiled sarcastically, matching her quick wit with his own before his attention was stolen from the pair of nymphomaniacs by Half-Sack's retaliation - taking Lowell to the ground in a flurry.
"Shit, Lowell! Get outta there!" He shook his head. "Who's idea was this?"
"Tig's-"
"Bobby's." The two guilty men answered at the same time.
"I don't mind it, Clay." Lowell raised his hand as he peeled himself off of the ground where his body threatened to stay. "I'm just helping Half-Sack train." He smiled at the man who he had been explaining himself to, for over a decade. But he didn't mind, it was nice to know that at least he had somebody looking out for him...
"Yeah, well, you've killed enough brain cells." He gestured back to the garage. "Come on, come on! Back to work."
"Okay." Lowell nodded without hesitation as he pulled his helmet off. "Thanks."
"How's he doin'?" Clay lowered his voice as he took a seat at the crowding table.
"Well, the latest round of rehab seems to be stickin'." Tig shrugged optimistically. "He hasn't missed any work."
"If I could get AA to kick up a vig, Lowell could make us all rich." Sydney laughed at Clay's joke as he sparked up a cigar, eyeing Jax as he rode into the lot.
"Lowell's always been a freak... Damn good mechanic though, I guess you taught him that." Bobby nodded to the white-haired man.
"How's Sugar Ray One-Nut lookin'?" Jax joked as he approached the group at the table, watching Half-Sack who had moved his tirade from the ring, to the punching bag.
"He's wicked fast, got a great right hook." Chibs reported proudly from behind his prospect.
"How much money gets thrown around at these, uh, bare-fist things?" Clay nodded inquisitively.
"The purse is okay…" Tig shrugged as he tucked his sunglasses into the chest pocket of his kutte. "It's the betting that's gone crazy... I know a couple guys who, last year, made six figures each."
"Really?" Sydney could see Clay's brows raise in surprise even under his sunglasses, his gaze shifting to Half-Sack. "Got one-forty on hand for McKeevy…"
"You ain't thinkin' about bettin' on the prospect?" Bobby scowled behind the pair of glasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose.
"He could knock any one of those lightweights out, any day of the week." Chibs shook his head.
"Absolutely." Tig agreed. "You know… If Half-Sack takes his first five fights, looks strong going into the finish, and we control how it ends? It could be a huge payday." Tig did what he could to back up his President while Bobby shook his head skeptically.
"What do you think?" Clay nodded to Jax, showing his VP some genuine good faith for one of the first times that he felt he could bear to in the past few weeks.
"I don't know." Jax shrugged carelessly. "But I do know that we need the cash, so... Might be our only shot." And it might get them to lay off of Jury.
"What if we control both." Sydney took a lazy drag from her cigarette as the men all turned to her with their brows raised. "Lowell." She nodded to the dark-haired mechanic. "We enter them both, bet accordingly, swing it so that they fight each other in the end. That way we get that first prize pay out, and all of the side coin."
"I'm in." Clay grinned, a chorus of agreements following his announcement which spread a smile across Sydney's face. "Take fifty grand, I wanna see it tripled." He nodded to Sydney and Tig, who exchanged grins of excitement. "You're training them - no booze, no weed, no pussy." He nodded to Chibs, getting up from the table as everyone dispersed.
"Well, it's a good thing Tig ain't the one fightin'." Bobby scoffed as Clay listed off the three things that made up the entirety of the Sergeant's diet.
"Hey, call Unser, would ya? Been tryin' him all mornin'." Clay asked the VP who trailed behind him, looking over his shoulder at Sydney and Tig to see if there was a way that he could possibly get her alone...
"He's out on the job - Water and Power dug up some old bones out on forty-four." He nodded.
Tig's ears perked up from a few feet away when Jax mentioned the discovery of human remains off the highway… The remains that they'd never intended to be found by anyone. He stalked up slowly, eyeing Clay from behind Jax, exchanging looks of worry.
Jax could see the guilt all over Clay's face, looking behind him to see Tig sharing the same expression. "What?" He asked regrettably, not liking where this was headed as Clay walked off without a word.
"I don't know." Tig shrugged, breaking eye contact and summoning Sydney to follow.
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Tara blinked out of the sleep that she had succumbed to as she laid across a scratchy sofa in the break room at the hospital that Jax had brought her back to after finding out the real reason that she'd cut her shift short, looking up to see Hale pulling the door closed as he entered the room with a dazed look on his face.
"Why didn't you tell me it was Kohn?" He shook his head incredulously.
Tara almost felt guilt once the sincerity of his voice hit her ears. "Jax told you?" She sat up, blinking out of her haze.
"I did not know that Kohn was the guy that was stalking you..." He explained in place of an apology as he crossed the room. "I could have-"
"You know?" Tara rushed to her feet in defense. She knew that the sympathy in his tone was meant for the fact that he could've helped her, but all she could hear was the judgment that he projected over the fact that she hadn't asked. "I tried getting help in Chicago - complained to his superiors, it only made things worse. I went through three precincts before someone would even give me that restraining order." Her penetrating gaze faltered as she calmed down. "I doubted you could do anything..." She looked away.
"Tara..." Hale ignored the twitch of jealousy in his veins as he shook his head. Of course she doubted his abilities - a cop - but she had no problem placing her trust in the dirty hands of Jax - a criminal. "Kohn's boss doesn't even know that he is here." He nodded slowly as he brought her eyes back to his. "This guy is in deep shit. He is done."
"Really..." Tara widened her eyes, almost unable to believe it.
"He is leaving Charming. I promise, and I am sorry." He nodded, the look on her face making it all worth it, because hewas finally going to be the one to save the day.
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"Wheelin' out two bodies…" Jax spoke from the tree line where Tig, Clay, and Sydney all stood next to him, watching the excavation of the not-so-secret burial site.
"There should be three." Jax and Sydney both looked at Tig with raised brows
"I'm afraid to ask…" Jax didn't understand how Tig could speak so calmly. More bodies meant more problems, more likelihood of evidence, more for Kohn to use against him.
"Don't be. There it is." Tig pointed to the third body bag being hauled off by Hale.
"Is this us?" The VP sighed.
"No shit it's us." Sydney scoffed, blowing a bubble with her gum.
"Yeah…" Clay confirmed with a sigh, looking over at Tig as Jax just shook his head and walked off in frustration.
Sydney knew that there was something deeper with these bones, and by the looks of it; Clay and Tig were responsible, and Jax - and maybe even the rest of the club - was never supposed to know about it. She looked between the two older men with her brows raised, letting them know that she knew there was more to the story before she followed Jax back to the bikes.
"Clay, they are going to push to ID those bones." Tig shook his head worriedly once the two blondes were out of earshot.
"I know…" Clay nodded thoughtfully. "We gotta stop that from happening. If the club finds out, they'll know something isn't right. And if the feds get to Lowell…" Clay winced. "The kid is on a wire - could run back to the needle at any second. And if there's anything that we've learned, it's that junkies can't be trusted." He narrowed his eyes at Tig, who nodded in agreement.
"Get Sydney up to speed." Clay decided as he watched the cops comb through the dirt that God only knew held what kind of evidence. He needed bodies, and brains if he wanted to keep himself clear of both the feds and his club.
"W-what?" Tig shook his head. There was no way that Clay was letting not only an outsider, but a newcomer in on their dirty little secret - a secret that would earn them a one-way ticket to Skeeter's crematorium. "With the truth?" His eyes widened.
"Not all of it. Just what she needs to know." Clay clarified, turning to head back to the bikes, looking over his shoulder at his hesitant Sergeant. "Unless, you got a problem with that too?"
"No." Tig shook his head with his lips pursed, ignoring the chill that ran through him when once again, he was called out for not obeying his President - the one thing that his job was to not do.
Jax looked up from the dirt beneath his shoes when Sydney appeared from the bushes where he was leaning against his bike, grateful that it was her and not Clay.
"You talk to Hale?" She nodded as she approached.
"Yeah." He nodded, pulling out a cigarette. "Said he's gonna handle it." He spoke around the white cylinder. "He was pretty pissed."
"I'm not surprised." Sydney scoffed, grabbing the pack from his outstretched hand. "I think you may want to keep an eye on our friend on the force. He's got a little crush on your old squeeze." She narrowed her eyes knowingly. "Or should I say… Current squeeze?" She mused.
"I don't know if I'd say that…" The blonde man looked back to the ground with a bashful smile as he stuffed the cigarettes back into the pocket of his kutte.
"You trust him?" Sydney reverted back to the matter that actually concerned her as she leant against his bike as well. If he didn't trust Hale, then she couldn't trust that the club was safe.
"I guess we'll see…" He squinted in the hot California sun, not feeling as confident in his fellow Charming native as he wished. "But until Kohn is completely dealt with, I'm gonna need your help..."
"I thought I blew that opportunity." She scoffed, kicking a rock with the toe of her shoe.
"It's for the club." He clarified, knowing that she didn't want to help him any more than he wanted her help. "You were right... What you said about me not bringing this to the table." He shook his head. "It's bad timing."
Sydney chortled around her cigarette. "So what did you find out?" She smirked into the distance.
"What?" Jax scowled, turning to face her.
"What leverage does Kohn have on you, that suddenly has you so eager for my help." She looked up at him with a smugness that he wished he would be irritated by, but it was one that her intelligence had earned her, tenfold.
"I saw some pictures while I was at the station... McKeevy's truck, the oil drums..." He sighed.
"Well..." She shrugged. "If Kohn really has been sneaking around long enough to know about the guns that we had in the clubhouse, then he probably knows all about how they got there."
"Yeah." Jax blinked, rubbing the back of his neck regretfully. "I need you to help me keep an eye out... He's gonna be pissed, and if he's as dangerous as I think he is? He's gonna lurk around for a few days - try and catch some shit that he could use as an excuse to stay. We need to make sure everyone is protected without tipping them off..."
"So what you're saying is that we need new transport." She surmised much easier than he had expected, glad that she had said it, and not him.
"I think it would be safest, but I don't know how we're gonna get Clay on board. If he finds out that it's because of something I did-"
"It won't go over too well." She nodded easily. "I'll handle it."
The VP smiled gratefully before turning his attention towards the clearing in the bushes where Clay and Tig were undoubtedly devising a plan to get them clear of whatever the hell was in that hole. "You get a weird vibe from them?"
"About the bones?" Jax nodded thoughtfully, hoping to let her know through his sincere expression that he genuinely valued her knowledge and intuition - even if he didn't always act like it. "I'm sure they're just shaken." She shrugged. "Probably never expected they'd be found - worried about evidence they might've left behind." It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth. Clay and Tig had done a horrible job of hiding their worry, which had only led the two blondes to the one conclusion that they wanted so badly to avoid - and she needed to find out what exactly that worry was.
"Yeah, that's what worries me..." He trailed off, dropping his cigarette to the ground as Clay and Tig returned and headed straight to their bikes without a word.
"You wanna get changed before the fights?" Tig asked over his shoulder as Sydney climbed on behind him.
"Yeah, we have time?" She looked to Clay for confirmation, knowing that the poor man had been worn down to the bone today, and them being late to church again may full well have the power to send him into an early grave.
"As long as you don't show up with a handprint on your other ass cheek." Clay deadpanned as he put his helmet on.
Sydney's eyes widened. She'd felt Tig's mark for sure, but she had no idea that it was low enough to be visible - looking over her shoulder where, sure enough, there it was as clear as day; a dark five-star protruding from her hemline. She looked back up at Tig who was wearing a shit-eating grin as he turned back around and fired up his bike.
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Clay waltzed across the compound towards Half-Sack as he twirled the jumprope around his lanky body, over and over again - leaning up against the side of the ring where Lowell was working on his right hook. "So, uh..." He looked between both men. "There's a pretty big purse on the line, and a lot of ringside action..."
"Yeah, I'm ready." Half-Sack panted as he continued skipping rope.
"Me too, Clay." Lowell nodded eagerly. "Is it, uh- Is it okay if I have Moby here?" He nodded to his eight-year old son who was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the ring, watching his dad do something that finally meant something. "I, uh, I just asked Gemma, but I wanted to make sure it was cool with you."
"Sure, it's fine." Clay smiled to Moby who he saw gearing up to beat him in their on-going game, pulling out his finger-gun slow enough that the little boy was able to get a 'shot' in on him first where he recoiled from the 'impact', groaning as if he was falling to his death.
Lowell laughed as joy spread through the ever-present anxiety in his chest. To hell with his father, this was the only family that he needed.
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Tig walked up the stairs behind Sydney with his head hung as the dreaded conversation neared. This was wrong. The fact that the situation even had to be re-lived in the first place was wrong, but having to divulge one of the many dark secrets that he had hidden in the back of his mind, had him seriously wrestling with his conscience. Even if he did what Clay said and only told her what she needed to know, he knew that she would keep digging and eventually uncover the truth that they had apparently not worked hard enough to bury.
Sydney pranced around the room, bouncing with excitement as she mindlessly chattered about what she wanted to wear to the fights, but Tig heard none of it as he zoned out, drowning in the noise in his head as he stared down at the thread pattern in her comforter. He didn't want to do this - he didn't even want to think about this, but he had no choice.
"Hello?" He heard vaguely before something hit him in the face, snapping out of his trance to see the white top that Sydney had been wearing, laying on the bed next to him.
"Damn." She crossed her arms over her now bare chest and raised a brow. "Somethin' about those bones has got you real twisted up..." She joked.
"Uh." Tig closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out howto broach the subject in a way where she wouldn't try to pry the details out of him. "Yeah, about that… I gotta tell you somethin'."
"Okay." She replied casually, sliding her shorts down and walking over to her vanity chair in her underwear.
Tig blinked a few times as she got to work on her makeup, completely unfazed. "Those bones… They're Mayan."
"Okay?" She drew out in confusion, shaking her head with a scowl as she tried to figure out why some Mayan bones had him and Clay so stressed out.
"But the third one… It's Lowell's dad." He sighed.
"Really?" Her eyes widened with a slight twinkle as she whipped her head around to face him, but he wasn't nearly as amused where he sat, choking on the words. "Well, shit." She scoffed, turning back to face the mirror.
"Lowell thinks that his dad bailed when he was a teenager… Clay's taken care of him ever since..."
"And you guys don't want him to find out that you killed him?" She asked casually, not looking up from the powder compact in her hand.
"We didn't kill him." Tig snapped.
"That's why he was buried with the enemy, right?" She snorted, swirling her brush around in the dark coloured powder before dusting it around the perimeter of her face, getting no response where she eventually turned around to see him staring blankly at the floor.
"Why'd you kill him?" Tig heard her soft voice as he felt the bed dipping beside him, her hand sliding over his thigh. He had no idea what to do. He couldn't lie to her, but he knew he couldn't tell her the truth… "One of those things that we can't tell each other?"
His eyes snapped up to where she was next to him, bundled up in her robe. His first reaction was to prepare for a fight - something he'd been conditioned to do whenever club business reared its ugly head in his relationships, but he was confused when all that he saw was sincerity behind her eyes.
"Okay." She nodded, taking his jarring reaction as a yes. "Just tell me what I need to do."
"What?" He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Okay? Just like that?" He'd murdered a man, for a reason that she knew had to be bad, and hid it from the club.
"Well obviously you're telling me for a reason." She shrugged. "I told you before, I understand the life - that there will be things that we can't tell each other. I trust you, and I trust Clay, and whatever reason you had to kill him was good enough to get him thrown into an enemy grave." She knew that had been no mistake or corner cut - that was a message. "But I'm guessing that the rest of the club didn't agree at the time?"
Tig looked at her as his gorgeous blue eyes swam with tears, overwhelmed by the less than favorable memory of the shady shit that he and Clay had pulled off - the anxiety that he'd lived with every day for years over being found out, and the understanding that she was giving him when he didn't deserve it.
"He was a junkie." The truth that he could give began flowing easily, but he still couldn't look her in the eye as he gave it. "He worked at TM... Overheard shit. We trusted him too much - let friendship get in the way of safety. When things got heated with the Mayans in '92, he started to buckle under the pressure. We couldn't risk it, so the club thinks that he split."
"Well, he did, technically." Sydney joked. She believed that what he was saying was the truth, but she also felt like he might've been leaving a few things out, because if Lowell Sr. really was a liability, surely the club would've been on board with terminating the threat... "So what do we need to do?"
"Clay's gonna tell everyone that the bodies are Mayan - swing it in a way where everyone thinks it's to protect us from the feds - which it is, it just ain't the only reason. We just gotta nod along."
"Think they're gonna try and ID them?" She thought it seemed unlikely if the bones were dated back to a known gang turf-war.
"We think so. That's why Clay wanted me to tell you…"
"So he wants us to stop it, because he can't have Jax or anyone else knowing?" She surmised.
"Yeah." Tig nodded.
"Jax is already suspicious, so we need to make sure this goes smoothly. I'll think of something." She nodded as she ran her tongue underneath her top lip.
"You just love this shit, don't you?" Tig squinted with a smile. The chaos could weigh on him sometimes - not nearly as much as the aftermath - yes, but it had always been where he felt the most himself, and he'd never thought that he would be able to share that with a partner.
"I only dreamed of this shit back home." She snorted.
Tig chuckled, looking down with a smile before remembering they were on a time crunch. "Aight." He nodded. "We gotta hurry to get this done before the fights start."
"Well, if this ain't shaping up to be the perfect date night, then I don't know what is." She mused, nudging his shoulder with a smirk.
Tig felt a grin tugging at the sides of his mouth. "It sure is, baby." He reached out for her, pulling her to straddle his lap. "Now, what were you sayin' about what you were gonna wear?" He growled as he pulled her robe open.
"Well, I was trying to decide… But my old man wasn't paying attention to me..." She pouted, looking down as she fiddled with the lapel of his kutte.
"You got my attention now." He assured her as his eyes bore a hole through her exposed chest.
"I could try some things on for you?" She peeked through her lashes to gauge his reaction, his face going blank as he slipped into a trance that had him nodding slowly.
Sydney bit her lip with a smile, hopping up out of his lap where she skipped over to the closet and quickly changed into one of the outfits that he had chosen for her to wear to her first dinner at Gemma's all of those weeks ago; the green bodysuit and black jeans.
"Nah." Was the first thing that she heard when she emerged from the closet, her face falling as she looked down at her attire.
"I thought you liked this one." She whined, she'd been dying to wear it since he'd shown her just how good it looked.
"I do, babe." He spoke tenderly, nodding his assurance as he got up from the bed and walked over to her, turning her to look in the mirror as he stood behind her. "But I want this-" He brought his hand down on her ass and squeezed the bruised skin harshly, making her yelp as he pressed his lips to her ear. "Visible. Tonight, you're gonna make everyone want you, and then you're gonna show them that you belong to me." He grinned, finally releasing his grip and pressing a kiss to her temple.
A grin spread across Sydney's face as she looked up at him. "Yes sir." She cocked a brow and strutted back into the closet for an outfit that would satisfy his request.
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"You know, I'm a little confused, Wayne." Clay squinted as he sat on his bike and lit up a cigar. "I thought I made it pretty clear that this friendship's gotta go both ways."
"Hale knows I'm dirty." The Chief of police tried to defend himself, taking a look around where they sat at the gas station on the outskirts of town to be sure that none of his colleagues had trailed behind him after they'd left the scene. "I've been pushed out."
"Well then you get yourself back in! I can't have this shit, or it will end badly for all of us." Clay sneered.
"You think I don't know that?" Unser scoffed. "I don't want this shit any more than you do, but I can't slip up with ATF sniffin' around!"
"Yeah…" Clay relented, sitting back against his seat. "I guess you're right."
"Look, I'm doing what I can here, Clay." Unser calmed down as well. "You guys just need to stay clear of anything until this heat dies down. I can handle Hale, but I can't sway the feds."
"They gonna be doing any ID on those bones?"
"I don't know… Why?" The worry in Unser's tone returned.
"You don't need to know." Clay shook his head. "But I need a favor."
"Well what is it?"
"Need to borrow a truck - Monday afternoon, will be back Tuesday." Clay spoke bitterly, still unhappy that all he'd been able to convince the stubborn Indian Hills President of, was one order with half the cash up front, past the date that McKeevy would be back for the money.
"Okay." Unser nodded, glad that he still had a way to keep himself off of Clay's shit list. "Need to make it look stolen, though."
"Not a problem." Clay nodded.
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"So all three of 'em are Mayan?" Jax responded from his seat at the table as Clay finally revealed what all the fuss was about these bones.
"Yep." Clay confirmed while Tig pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply, hoping that they could pull this off, because he was not trying to go back to a time when everything that he and his President did, was behind the club's back.
"Back in '92..." The President sighed. "The Mexicans tried to expand their Oakland dope base, set up a charter in Lodi - we couldn't let that happen. It was a bloody two years, bodies dropped."
"Yeah, I remember." Jax nodded somberly. "That was right around the time my old man died."
"That's right." Clay blinked rapidly.
"Now, we gotta stop the PD from IDing those bodies, man." Tig intervened quickly with a shake of his head. "I mean, if they flag the Mayans? We're their next stop."
Sydney's ears perked up when Clay brushed off Jax's statement in an uncharacteristic tone - one that almost sounded nervous - and then Tig rushed to cover it up. Her forehead creased as she studied the men out of the corner of her eye, but she saw no further oddities, chalking it up to worry over the truth being found out - for now.
"We can pull the teeth to stop the ID, but they can still DNA test." Jax nodded.
"Forensic tests on three bodies?" Bobby scoffed. "That would blow half of Unser's yearly budget."
"Yeah, but if Hale thought it would hurt us? He'd get his new fed buddies to float the cost." Clay nodded pointedly.
"Shit, I mean... This was pre-OJ, right? We weren't thinking about DNA right back in '93... What kind of clues do we got buried with those Mexicans." Tig's tone fluctuated between a high-pitched laugh, and a low, serious grumble. Sydney could tell that his nerves were getting the best of him, but at least there was a decent cover on the table to explain it to his brothers.
"If they don't know they're Mayans, they won't take it any further." Chibs tried to reassure the distraught Sergeant.
Sydney resisted the urge to argue that if they did know that they were Mayans, they might not take it any further. But her position here was to help get everybody on board with stopping the ID, not pushing for it.
"We stop the identification, we stop the investigation." Clay nodded simply.
"You're awfully quiet today, Princess? Thought you'd have a lot more to say, lookin' like that..." Chibs heckled Sydney, eyeing the sheer bustier top that she wore tucked into a tiny pair of leather shorts.
"Yeah, did you decide that bein' a croweater was your calling after all?" Jax nodded with a playful smile.
"Maybe she's scared that if she opens that pretty mouth, she's gonna get another spanking." Bobby joked with wide eyes.
Tig grinned with pride when his brothers noticed not only the outfit that he'd chosen for her to wear, but also the power that he displayed over her - a nice change from what was usually the opposite.
Sydney bit her lip, shaking her head with a bashful smile as she stood from her chair, turning on her heels and heading out the door where she stuck up her middle finger when the inevitable round of hollering began once her back was turned, giving everybody a clear view of the handprint that her ass was showcasing - just as Tig had wanted.
;
Gemma looked up from the stack of receipts that she was inputting after a morning full of running errands, removing her reading glasses when Clay finally entered the office. "Town's talkin' about the skulls that rolled outta that hole…" She narrowed her eyes.
"I'm sure they are." He walked over to the window, watching Jax waltz across the pavement where he held his burner to his ear; searching for any signs of suspicion - which, thankfully, he couldn't find.
"You thought about damage control?" Gemma raised a brow.
"Tig's the only one who knows the truth." He brushed off her never-ending worry that he liked to make her think he didn't share in. "Everybody else thinks all those bodies are Mayans."
"And how do you stop that truth from spreading?" She scoffed, tossing her glassed down onto the desk.
"Got Sydney on board for some extra man power - might need some of the quick thinking she's good at." He smirked over his shoulder.
"You trust her?" Gemma's eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"Yeah, don't you?" Clay scowled, he would've thought that she would've been glad to have such a strong force on their side.
"Well, yeah, but…" She shook her head. "That kind of secret could crush us - crush the club, could crush Jax. It's only the tip of the iceberg, Clay-"
"Hey." He put up a hand to stop her spiralling. "I said Tig is the only one who knows the truth, okay? Your boy will be fine. She doesn't know all of it." He lowered his head so that she could see his narrowed eyes under his sunglasses. "Besides, she's all for 'the good of the club' - wouldn't be interested in crushing the one thing she came here for." He watched her as she chewed the inside of her lip. "I've got it covered, alright? Don't worry. This shit stays in the rearview." He closed out the discussion that did little to reassure her, heading out the door.
"Talked to Trammel." Jax nodded. "The San Joa. County coroner's clearing space, but the bones stay local tonight."
"Good." Clay nodded. "Now I have to get into the lower level of the hospital… You uh, think the old squeeze might be able to hook a brother up?"
"I'll see what I can do." Jax responded, clapping Clay's shoulder. He had no intention of enlisting Tara to aid and abet, but he wasn't going to tell Clay that.
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Kohn ground his teeth as the soles of his shoes crunched over the broken glass that littered the kitchen floor, taking a deep breath as he began making his way through the surprisingly pristine house - for a biker. But the sight only fuelled his anger, because he knew that level of care in home decor only came from a woman... His woman.
He shook his head, stomping straight down the hallway and into the pastel-blue painted baby's room. He looked around at what should've been his and Tara's nursery, scoffing once he noticed the mobile above the crib - motorcycles hanging from the strings instead of sheep. He stalked over, winding it up and allowing the gentle lullaby to guide his movements as he unzipped his pants.
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Song for this chapter
Are You Gonna Go My Way - Lenny Kravitz