SAMCRO and the Mayans move forward in a partnership that satisfies Clay's need for control, Tig's need for revenge, and Sydney's need for trust—but it does nothing to satisfy Jax's need for peace.
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 57: THE HEALING
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"Mornin', sleeping beauty." Tig purred as Sydney began stirring in his grip where he was hugging her tightly, pressing his lips to her cheek as she giggled.
"Mmm," she stretched. "That makes you Prince Charming." She mused with a lazy smile, looking him over playfully as he stood from the bed and pulled on his jeans.
"I'd expect a lot more than Prince Charming after last night." He scoffed. His night had been anything but peaceful. He had been terrified to sleep, worrying that if he did, he would wake up to Sydney cold and dead next to him. So he'd spent most of the night awake, listening to her drunken rambling when she was awake, and making sure that she stayed off of her back while she was asleep.
Sydney shrunk under his knowing gaze, feeling her cheeks getting hot as she hid her face in the blankets.
"Oh, yeah." Tig groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the blanket away from her. "Your hair was in my face, you were drooling on me, snoring in my ear..." He listed with a shit-eating grin.
"I was not!" She squealed, lunging forward and smacking him on the arm with a playful grin. She was glad that her discomfort only extended as far as embarrassment and nothing more— grateful that they were back to their regular banter about what could have been a very rocky subject.
"You were too!" He pulled her into his lap where he peppered her jaw with kisses, smiling as she squirmed while his moustache tickled her sensitive skin. "Hungover?" He asked once he stopped his assault on her face.
"Not really." She shook her head gratefully.
"Good." He nodded, knowing that her rejuvenated body was likely thanks to the gallons of water that he'd forced down her throat at any possible moment throughout the night. "How's the pain?" He nodded to her leg.
"Okay." She replied meekly, feeling the aching spreading through her body the second that he reminded her.
"Alright." He accepted her answer even though he knew that it wasn't the truth, kissing her temple before setting her back down to the mattress so that he could get up. "I'll be back. Stay here, sleep, watch TV—it's still early. I got some shit I need to take care of for Clay before we head out."
"We?" Sydney raised her brow. "Are you gonna be my chauffeur for the day, Sergeant?" She mused as a devilish smirk played on her lips.
"You know it, baby… You get to ride me all day long." He mimicked her devious expression, grabbing her hand and leaning down to kiss her goodbye.
Sydney kissed him through her smile, whimpering at the loss of contact as he tried to pull away, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her nose in his chest as she squeezed him tight.
"I'll be back soon." He chortled, rubbing her back. "And you were snoring." He smirked into her hair before he made to pull away.
"Shut up." She grumbled. "You snore all the time." She finally let go of him, rolling her eyes as she watched him slip out the door with a smile on his face.
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Opie paced back and forth through the garage as he watched the sun slowly rise over the clubhouse, continuing his path weaving in and out of the car lifts. He had been at it for hours, and he knew that he would continue to be at it for hours considering that the rager had only just wrapped up.
"We ain't set to head out for a while..." He looked up to see Jax eyeing him from the doorway of the office. "You look like shit, man..."
"Donna took the kids to her mom's. I can never sleep when the house is empty..." Opie looked down at his ringed knuckles.
Jax sucked in a deep breath, pursing his lips as he pushed himself off of the doorframe that he'd been leaning on. "This gig doesn't make sense for you, Ope." He shook his head sincerely as he approached the taller man.
"Why do you keep trying to push me off of this?" Opie scowled. "You're the one who keeps saying I can't live half in, half out." He knew that there had to be a tighter angle that Jax was working here.
"Cause you need it too much." Jax went with the first rehearsed excuse that came to mind. "Becomes about money… Shit gets sloppy."
"This is not about money." Opie looked away awkwardly, feeling the anger of shame building in his chest as he searched for his own excuse. "I'm doing this the same reason you are; to prove that I'm SAMCRO."
Jax felt himself stiffen. "I got nothing to prove." He tried to reply as casually as possible, but the tense in his jaw that hadn't been covered with nearly enough stubble to hide it, gave him away.
Opie looked his lifelong friend up and down. "That's not what I hear..." He scoffed, turning to the bike that he had intended on getting to work on.
The VP knew that he wouldn't be getting his way on this one—not without help, at least. He shook his head, storming away in search of the one person that he knew would be able to sniff out a good enough reason to put Opie on the bench.
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"Hey, man." Jax heard from behind him as his hand hovered over the doorknob to Tig's dorm, looking over his shoulder to see the Sergeant himself.
"Oh, hey." He nodded awkwardly. "Sydney up? Was gonna relay the game plan." Technically, it wasn't a lie.
Sydney had turned her attention away from the TV when she'd heard footsteps coming down the hall, scowling when they stopped just outside of the door. She lifted her head from the pillow, hearing the muffled whispers that she recognized as belonging to Tig and Jax.
"Nah, she's still sleepin'—best to leave her that way." Tig chuckled. "I'll let her know what the plan is." He nodded thankfully, clapping the younger man on the shoulder before opening the door slowly, peeking his head inside to be sure that he wasn't waking her. "Hey." He smiled bashfully when he saw her sitting in the middle of the bed, entering the room to reveal the iced latte, and paper bag from her favorite bakery.
"See," she grinned. "You are too good to me."
"Yeah, I am." He grinned back as he made his way over to the bed, passing her the large caffeinated beverage which she began gulping down immediately.
"Damn." He chuckled. "All that water didn't do it for ya?"
Sydney swallowed the caramel-flavored coffee, inhaling a deep breath that the chugging had taken out of her. "All that water is exactly what did it for me." She scoffed.
"Maybe a chocolate croissant will help." He smiled, dangling the pastry as he stood from the bed.
"I think it might..." She smirked. "Thank you." She smiled gratefully.
"No problem, babe." He turned, making his way to the bathroom.
"Was that Jax that I heard outside?" She asked casually as she took another sip.
"Oh, yeah. He was just gonna let you know how today is gonna go down, but I got it covered." He winked.
Sydney nodded, looking down at the brown liquid that was draining from the clear plastic cup in her hands. She knew that Jax's excuse had been just that—an excuse. He'd never cared to brief her on anything before—unless it was something that he didn't want the club to know about.
"What kinda bullshit is Gretchen pulling now?" Tig groaned as he caught a glimpse of the TV where she was watching The Real Housewives of Orange County—the trashy reality show that he had shamefully become hooked on because of her, but he would never admit it.
"Nothing!" Sydney exclaimed with a wide grin. Even him bashing her favorite housewife couldn't trump her excitement that he was finally warming up to her TV choices—as she had been telling him that he would do for weeks. "Besides, I thought that the ruthless Sergeant at Arms was too manly to watch my 'Hollywood glory hole, soap opera bullshit'?" She mimicked him with a raised brow.
"I am." He smirked unconvincingly.
"Vicki is clearly the enemy here, you just haven't been paying attention enough." She turned her nose up.
"Yes I have!"
"Ah!" Sydney held her finger up as she backed him into a verbal corner, shaking her head with a smug smile.
"All that tequila is gettin' to ya if you think that Vicki is the enemy." He shook his head with a playful smile, crossing the threshold where his boots hit the tile floor of the bathroom, crouching down and starting the bath with a squeak of the taps.
Sydney smiled when she heard the running water, staying in bed with her knees pulled up to her chest as she rocked back and forth. His actions were almost enough to overtake the nervousness that was building as she realized that she would be seeing her wound for the first time without the bandages—and so would he. She felt the anxiety beginning to travel up her body as she cursed herself for letting him talk her into coming to the damn party. She hadn't yet worked up the courage to assess the damage on her own—which she undoubtedly would've done the night before, had she stayed home—and now she had to do it in front of an audience that didn't even know the true extent of her injury.
Tig returned to collect Sydney once the bathtub was full, making sure that the water was nice and hot the way that she liked it. He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her into the bathroom where he set her down onto the sink, pulling off the black oversized t-shirt of his that he'd dressed her in the night before.
"Hold on." He instructed as her arms fell around his neck. Sydney nodded, wrapping her legs around his hips and locking her arms behind his head so that he could pull off the baggy grey sweats that she was wearing.
Tig groaned when she pressed her pelvis against his, letting his hands roam over her ass. He smiled when he heard her chuckling, refocusing himself as he gripped the waistband, pulling down the loose bottoms before setting her back down to the counter so that he could remove them all of the way.
"Um—" Sydney squeaked as he approached her bandaged thigh, keeping her eyes out of his.
"We're gonna do this together." He squeezed her shoulders, feeling her quivering under his touch. "But I won't look if you don't want me to."
Sydney inhaled sharply as she weighed her options. She knew that he was going to see it sooner or later, and she also knew that his comforting presence would soften the blow, but she didn't know if she was ready to see the pain behind his eyes when he laid them upon his broken old lady.
"What if… I look first, and then…" She trailed off.
"You can tell me if it's okay?" She looked up into his caring blue eyes, nodding softly. "Okay." He nodded, squeezing her hand before turning his back to the mirror.
Sydney took a deep breath as she hopped off of the sink and carefully began unravelling the tensor bandage that was protecting the layer of gauze that had been taped over the entry point, wincing at the sight of the black and yellow bruising that covered her entire upper thigh. She took a deep breath, pushing down the wave of nausea as she pulled at the corner of the medical tape, squeezing her eyes shut as it tugged harshly at the skin that surrounded the tender wound. She flinched when she felt Tig's hand sliding into hers where she had been clutching the sink, looking up as she felt his warmth spreading through her; fighting her unease with a force much stronger than she'd expected.
"Like a bandaid." He squeezed her hand with an encouraging smile.
"You do it." She spun around quickly, pushing herself back onto the counter.
"You sure?" Tig raised a weary brow.
"I'm sure now, but I might not be in a few seconds." She warned him, leaning forward where she braced herself against his arm, and held her breath.
He nodded, taking his place between her legs where he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him so that he had enough leverage, and she had a comforting form of contact to focus on. He slid his fingers under the corner of the bandage, peeling it back bit by bit until he was satisfied that he could remove it in one swift pull, hugging her tightly as he ripped it off—keeping his eyes averted.
"Jesus!" Sydney flinched, her eyes squeezing shut and her nails digging into his back as she waited for the surge of pain to subside. Her body relaxed as the initial shock wore off, but she was unable to release her breath as she waited for Tig's reaction.
"Keep doin' that." He growled playfully into her ear, revelling in the sweet, nostalgic sting of her long nails in his skin.
"Shut up." She laughed, grateful for the light mood that he was so desperately trying to create. "Is it bad?" She asked meekly, refusing to do as little as peer down as she stayed in the same position with her arms wrapped around him.
"You're sure you want me to look?" Tig was hopeful for the opportunity to show her that he was worthy of her trust; that her flaws weren't flaws in his eyes—even if it meant absorbing the sore sight of his old lady; eternally marked by a kiss of death, because of him.
"Only if you know that you won't look at me differently…" Sydney whispered sadly, her nose burrying into his shoulder as she inhaled his scent, feeling herself starting to tremble as she prayed to every God that she could think of—begging them not to burden her with a repeat of the first time that she'd allowed the men of the MC to witness her wounds.
"Never." He nodded truthfully. He could never see her differently, the only person that he worried he would see differently, was himself.
"You can look." She nodded shakily after a moment's hesitation—knowing that she needed to do this for the both of them.
Tig nodded, pulling back as he slowly allowed his eyes to travel down her body to the dark bruises surrounding the reddened skin where he counted six stitches holding the wound together. "Baby…" He whispered.
Sydney felt her guard beginning to crumble as her entire body stiffened up, sucking in a deep breath of air as dread filled her lungs, and tears filled her eyes—pushing an angry sob up her throat. How could she have been so stupid to think that this would've been a good idea? She didn't even need to see his eyes to know that he would never look at her as he once did. He would see her as Happy did, as Tank did, as they all did; broken.
"This is badass."
"What?" Her head snapped up to see a proud smile on Tig's face. Besides having to fight off the initial grimace, he was holding up just fine—waiting for the darkness to creep in, but it never did. Instead of having to force himself to look, he was admiring her in awe, absorbing her strength as his own in a way that he'd never thought possible.
"C'mere." He pulled her off of the counter where he began turning her towards the mirror.
"No, no. I don't wanna—"
"Look." He cut her off, turning her face towards her reflection.
"Wow…" Sydney blinked slowly. It didn't look nearly as bad as she'd expected it to look; once the stitches were removed and the bruising faded, it would be nothing but a small scar. She looked up again, finding Tig's blue eyes sparkling with adoration in the same way that they always had when he looked at her. "You think so?" She asked as confidence began to refill the crevices that her insecurities had been inhabiting, turning her body so that she could examine her entire leg.
"Hell yeah." He nodded, guiding her by her shoulders as he turned her around so that he could stare at her ass with a grin.
Sydney chuckled, resting her forehead against his chest. "Thank you…" She looked up at him with pure eyes, and a grateful smile.
"No." Tig shook his head. "Thank you." He pulled her into his arms. He was proud of himself, and he knew that he owed it all to her.
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Tara lay in the small bed of the clubhouse dorm that Jax had claimed for the night, bouncing her knee up and down as she tapped her wrist anxiously. She had never been a 'stay in bed' kind of person, especially when that bed wasn't her own. And after a confusingly good sleep in the uncomfortably familiar place, she was desperate to get back into an environment where she had control over her emotions now that Jax wasn't laying next to her.
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Sydney held onto Tig as he gently lowered her into the bathtub, feeling her tense muscles and weary mind soothing the instant that the scalding hot water graced her skin. But as soon as the liquid came into contact with her tender wound, she felt an excruciating pain crashing through her as her entire body recoiled, her eyes widened, and her heart stopped.
Tig responded immediately when he realized what was happening, supporting her weight with an arm under her shoulder as he shoved his hand into her mouth—letting her bite down as she fought off the pain, muffling her high-pitched squealing.
"It's okay, you're okay." He told her as she clutched at his wrist and squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the lessening pressure of her jaw as the pain subsided.
Sydney grimaced as she pulled back, hissing before she was finally able to let out the breath that she'd been holding. "I guess there is such a thing as too hot." She chortled shakily, blinking a few times.
"Sorry." Tig winced, reaching over and twisting on the cold tap.
"It's my karma." She gave a watery smile as she laid back, letting her body properly relax in the bath, as it always did.
"Here." He handed her the remainder of her coffee and croissant, hoping that food would be enough of a distraction as the water cooled down.
"I still want tacos." She smiled longingly as she accepted her breakfast, sinking her teeth into the flaky pastry.
"Yeah, yeah." Tig groaned, rolling his eyes. "How could I forget? You talked about it all night."
"Just planting the seeds, babe." She winked, her eye catching the reddening water by her thigh as she went to take another bite. She winced, feeling her stomach flip as she jerked her eyes away, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore.
"Never thought that you would be one to have a weak stomach." Tig scoffed as she set the baked good back down onto the paper bag.
"I only like marks from a fair fight… Or a fight that I won." She shrugged playfully.
"Well, later today," he waited until she looked into his eyes. "You win."
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Tara quietly made her way down the hall, not wanting to draw any attention to herself as she entered the bar that was littered with passed out party-goers. She looked around the grungy scene that was no place for a doctor, averting her eyes as she ducked into the kitchen for some coffee.
"Good morning." She flinched when she heard the unexpectedly cheerful voice behind her, knocking over the container holding various wooden spoons and whisks where she had been reaching for a mug.
Gemma sat by the sink with a cigarette in her hand, scanning over a nervous Tara, dressed in Jax's t-shirt; a sight that she knew all too well. But now that the truth was out in the open, she no longer had to hold back on her scheming to push Tara back out. She'd done it before, and she was determined to do it again.
Tara cursed the PTSD that Kohn had tainted her with as she tried to calm her racing heart, but the object of her fright wasn't much less threatening than Kohn would've been. She cleared her throat and straightened her back, regaining her composure as Gemma watched her every move like a hawk. She had been in this position enough times to know that what The Matriarch was looking for was a sign of weakness, and she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.
"Good morning." She spoke as level as possible, turning back to what she was doing as she poured herself some coffee.
Gemma side-eyed the younger woman as she attempted to appear strong, pursing her lips with a nod. She had gotten smarter since the last time... She decided to switch tactics, dropping her cigarette butt into the sink and sliding off of the chair. "Can I ask you a question?" She approached as Tara kept her head down.
Tara inhaled sharply. She knew that if she invited in any conversation in her fragile—and now semi-panicked—state, she would lose all control of her emotional restraint. "I'm tired, I'm not really up for a fight." She replied shakily, looking between her coffee, and Gemma's deceivingly kind eyes.
"Oh, not a fight." Gemma feigned offence, placing her hand over her heart. "I'm just tryin' to figure out what's goin' on…. I mean, you and Jax are obviously reconnected—"
"Honestly," Tara could physically feel her patience thinning by the second. "I don't know what we are."
"That's what concerns me." Gemma nodded, raising a condescending eyebrow.
Tara fought the urge to roll her eyes, even if she knew that Gemma was right. It was the same thing that Sydney had told her—that she couldn't live this life half in, half out. But she was trying her damnedest to walk the very fine line between the two, and ride out the grace period as long as possible.
"You're clearly not one of them." Gemma scoffed as she looked out the door.
"I'm glad that's clear." Tara scoffed back.
"So, what happens next?"
"I don't know." Tara shrugged, trying to remain optimistic.
"You become his old lady again? What does that look like?" Gemma painted on a scowl. "Operating on kids during the day, patching up bullet wounds at night…"
"Okay." Tara snapped, reaching for her coffee and turning towards the door. "I get it."
"I know that you hate me." Tara stopped. "But this isn't me being some overbearing bitch. This is someone tellin' you the truth." She rounded the shorter girl. "You and Jax is a bad idea. And someone better start thinking clearly before both of you get hurt."
Tara felt her eyes welling up as she found herself in the path of what had driven her away all of those years ago—and the same woman was behind the wheel. She nodded until she broke down, giving up on the little self control that she had barely been able to salvage in the first place. "Well, it wouldn't be my first bad idea." She gave a humourless, watery chuckle. "It seems to follow me wherever I go." She began hyperventilating.
"You know," Gemma moved in closer. "You are smarter, and more strong-willed than anyone I've ever met." She wrapped her arm around the shoulders of the poor, motherless little girl. "You need to shine some of that on this thing with Jax... He's not smart enough to do what's right. You have to be the one to break this off." She dropped her voice to a comforting whisper, the voice of reason. "Save both of you from somethin' bad..."
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Jax stood at the end of the hallway that was opposite to Tig's room, waiting until he was satisfied that he had enough time to sneak in and speak to Sydney without getting caught. He watched the dark-haired man exit his dorm, leaving the door open as he descended the hallway and rounded the corner, stalking through the bar and out the front door—marking the beginning of his window. He waited until the heavy metal door shut completely, beginning his mission as he jogged down the hallway towards his target, but just as he approached the point where the corridor divided, he was almost run down by Tara storming past him with her head down. He jumped back, his heart stopping as his cover so quickly became compromised, but luckily she hadn't noticed him in her huff. But as soon as he was able to catch his breath, he realized that this only caused more problems, because not only was his path to Sydney now blocked, but he had to deal with whatever it was that had upset her so badly.
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Sydney sat on the edge of Tig's bed as tall as she could, trying to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror above his dresser as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She sighed once she realized that the volumeless updo was the best that she was going to get, slouching back down when something caught her eye. A smile came to her face as she stood, her grin getting wider as she got closer to the mirror where she saw that, tucked into the frame along with all of his photos, were two pictures of them from the fair—photos that she hadn't even known had been taken, let alone that Tig had thought to keep.
She stared at the photos in awe until something finally came along to distract her from her giddiness, looking out into the hallway to see Tara stomping towards the back door with puffy eyes, and tear-stained cheeks. "Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah!" She yelled, stopping the brunette who reluctantly turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. "What's wrong?"
"You shouldn't be—" Tara hiccuped as the tears of humiliation returned. "Putting weight on your leg so much." She nodded to where Sydney was standing in a giant pair of baggy grey sweatpants, and a tiny black tanktop that barely covered her midriff.
"I'll sit down if you come and tell me what's got you so upset." Sydney crossed her arms in return. Tara hesitated, not because she didn't want to talk to Sydney, but because she didn't know how she felt about being in Tig's room. "He's getting the van." She chuckled. "But if clean sheets are a deal breaker for you, then you may want to stand."
Tara smiled awkwardly at her joke as she tentatively crossed the threshold, walking over and sitting on the end of the bed where Sydney followed.
"What happened?" Sydney grabbed her hands—which she yanked away—leaning down to meet her sad eyes instead.
"The same thing that always happens." Tara scoffed. "Gemma."
"What'd she do?" Sydney knew that this would've happened sooner or later, but she was surprised that Gemma had actually kept her mouth shut about Tara until it was public knowledge—even if she had opened it the second that it was no longer a secret.
"Oh, you know," Tara laughed humourlessly as she looked up to the ceiling, gluing her hands to her sides. "That me and Jax are a bad idea, and that somebody is going to get hurt if I don't break it off."
"Is she right?" Sydney knew that the delivery of Gemma's concern had actively missed the mark—a recurring theme with the brash woman—but she herself had also half-wondered if Tara's recent effort was just because she was too scared to be alone after Kohn.
"What?" Tara recoiled, her defensive instincts taking over before her brain could catch up. "No, she isn't. But even if she was, it's none of her business!" She sneered.
Tara's reaction was all Sydney needed to know that her worry wasn't necessary, because if it was, the uptight doctor would've squirmed her way into a lie, as she had done under previous accusations. She sat with a raised eyebrow and knowing smirk as she stared Tara down, watching the offense fading from her face.
"Okay." Tara rolled her eyes with a smile once she realized what the blonde girl's play had really been. "I get what you're saying; she's just trying to protect the club…"
"Look… If you hurt, then Jax hurts. If Jax hurts, the club hurts. If the club hurts…" Sydney trailed off. "You see where I'm going with this?" Tara nodded. "Jax wears his heart on his sleeve, and Gemma knows that. She knows the kind of woman that he needs, and she knows that woman when she sees it. She wouldn't deny her son of a good old lady, so if you think that a good old lady is what you can be, what you want to be… Then show her."
;
"Well that didn't take long." Gemma heard the smug voice behind her from where she stood in the kitchen, knowing exactly who it belonged to.
"I could say the same to you." She smirked, looking over her shoulder to see Sydney standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, and a sly look on her face—nodding to the leg that she wasn't supposed to be standing on.
Sydney chuckled, winking to the devious woman as she turned her attention to Tig who was barrelling down the hallway in search of her. "What the hell?" He held out his arms. "I thought the whole reason I was bringing the van around back was so that you didn't have to do this?" He gestured to her stance.
"Change of plans." She smiled sweetly. "I'm ready to go now though." She held her arms out so that he could pick her up.
Tig looked between the two women who were doing their best to look innocent, grumbling as he shook his head and lifted her into his arms. "You wanna say goodbye to anyone?" He nodded to the open room where the hoards of men were still passed out.
"Nah." She answered coldly as her eyes affixed to the SAMDINO rockers.
Tig watched as her gaze hardened, lingering for a few seconds longer in case she changed her mind—hoping that she would change her mind—but as soon as she looked up at him when he didn't budge, he knew that wasn't going to happen. He nodded curtly, respecting her wishes and carrying her down the hall and out to the van where he placed her into the passenger seat, kissing her on the cheek before making his way around to the drivers side where he took off towards her house.
Jax grumbled from across the parking lot as he watched his one last chance at salvation, drive away. There was nothing that he could do to save Opie from the fate of the reaper, now.
"I'm gonna go load up the guns for the Niners while you get ready." Tig spoke with his grip firm on the wheel. "Call Laroy to confirm the meet."
"What about the rest of 'em?" Sydney asked as she pulled a burner out of the glovebox.
"Leave 'em there for now... Cameron's staying local, he'll watch 'em. Clay doesn't wanna take any chances with ATF."
"Still using part crates?" She asked as she flipped the phone open.
"Yeah." Tig nodded curtly.
Sydney felt a blush coming to her cheeks as the butterflies in her stomach dipped down below her belly button as his forearms flexed around the steering wheel. She let her eyes linger as he kept his glued to the road, finally getting herself back on track as she began dialling Laroy's number.
"We go to take care of Esai, then meet up with Jax, Ope, and Bobby for the drop with Laroy after they're done with Hefner in Oakland." He relayed the rest of the plan as he pulled into her driveway, looking over at her as she nodded with the phone against her ear, leaning so that he could kiss her goodbye.
Tig pecked her waiting lips. "You need help?" He raised a brow as she kicked her door open.
"Hi, Teaj," Sydney ignored him, winking as she shut the door and shimmied up to her house with a proud smile on her face. Between finding the photos on the mirror, the way that Tig had known exactly what she'd needed all morning, and what she knew the afternoon would bring, today was shaping up to be the perfect day.
;
Opie and Jax sat in the blue pickup truck that they'd jacked for the hit while Bobby did a final confirmation on the location, neither of them having spoken a single word since their standoff in the garage.
"Look, I'm ready for this, brother." Opie broke the awkward silence. The whole reason that he was doing this in the first place was to remove the hostility in his life between him and his wife, he didn't need to replace it with hostility between him and his best friend. "So let's just get it done." He looked over his shoulder at Jax who sat in the backseat with the same troubled expression that he'd been wearing all morning.
"Alright." Jax agreed after a moment's hesitation. He still didn't like this, and he still didn't intend on exposing Opie to the life-altering turmoil that he'd been exposed to only a few short days ago, but he realized that he wasn't going to be able to talk himself out of this one—he was going to have to do what a real Vice President would do, and act.
"Grey Mercedes is in the garage." Bobby nodded through the open window as he approached the truck.
"Which apartment?" Opie asked as he studied the printed photo of the Port Commissioner that had been stuffed into his pocket.
"Unit nine—top floor, third from the right."
"Cameras cover the garage... We should do this on the upper level." Jax suggested for no reason other than buying himself some more time.
"If this guy has half a brain, he's gonna be cautious and armed." Bobby nodded wearily.
Jax chewed his lip for as long as he could before he realized that he couldn't stall any longer. "If anyone walks into this, has an eyeline, we abort. No risks." He nodded sternly, praying that the only solution he was able to come up with, would somehow be enough.
Bobby nodded his agreement. "Ope, you take the front steps. I'll take the back." He looked to Jax as Opie took off towards his post, not wasting any more time. "You stay here in case he gets by."
"Nah." Jax shook his head, jumping out onto the pavement as everything started unfolding much faster than he could've planned for. "Ope! I'm gonna take the front—"
"It's the way Clay wanted it." Bobby placed his hand on Jax's chest, narrowing his eyes calmly. He didn't want any more power struggles between the officers, and he knew that Opie carrying out this hit was the mean to that end.
Jax looked past the shorter man at Opie who stood across the parking lot, shaking his head in confusion as they fell back. He continued searching his brain for any way to get them out of this, but he couldn't. He couldn't talk or act himself out of this one—and the one person that could've was miles away.
"I know…" Bobby nodded in the face of Jax's worry—a worry that he shared in—but he knew that they would have much more to worry about if this didn't play out exactly as planned.
"Alright…" Jax relented, placing his trust in the level-headed man that he had always been able to rely on. "Watch him…" He whispered out of the side of his mouth as they began crossing the parking lot. "The second that this goes down, I'm in the car, motor running."
"Alright." Bobby nodded, taking off up the steps of the dingy apartment unit with Opie in tow.
;
"You're not covering it?" Tig nodded in half worry, half confusion as Sydney came prancing out to the van, looking over the fully exposed wound that she had been terrified to show him not three hours ago.
"You don't like it?" Sydney pouted as she looked down at the frilly, mint green dress that she was wearing.
"No—" Tig's eyes widened as he shook his head rapidly. "Of course I do…" He husked as he raked over her figure in the tight garment. "I just don't want you to get hurt…"
Sydney chuckled as she slid into the passenger seat with a smug smile on her face after having rattled him, once again. "I'll cover it after." She held up her purse that had been stuffed with medical supplies. "But I need it for something first…"
;
Opie stood frozen in place in the middle of the walkway that lined the perimeter of the apartments as he watched Hefner go down after the four shots had been fired—but they were four shots that hadn't come from his gun as his finger trembled over the trigger.
He finally forced himself to blink, his eyes focusing on Bobby who guided the asshole's now lifeless body down to the ground, and pulled his gun away from his chest. "Shit..." He cursed, his adrenaline kicking in as Bobby shook his head, and motioned for him to run—neither of them noticing the swaying curtains behind the window that they had been standing in front of.
;
Marcus Alvarez sat at a picnic table in a quiet park just outside of Lodi, taking in his surroundings with a deep inhale as he folded his hands together. He looked up when he finally heard the sound of a second bike, smiling as his son crossed the field before taking the seat across from him—trembling with fear in the presence of his father for the first time since he had so badly disappointed him.
"Hey, relax, huh?" The older man nodded. "Shit happens, man."
"Yeah, I know." Esai tried to brush off the awful feeling that he had about the consequences of his two horribly executed actions. "I'm sorry, Pop…"
"Because of your mistake, I had a sit down with SAMCRO. Made a deal with them." Alvarez nodded. "They're gonna start selling us guns."
"That's good." Esai nodded, half shocked, but half relieved. He never would've thought that he would see the day that the Mayan President would make peace with white—let alone see the day that he would've been a part of that peace.
"That happened because of you, okay? It's okay, man…" Alvarez looked past him as he felt his eyes beginning to gloss over. "Let's go get a churro…" He stood, throwing his arm around his son's shoulders as he led him to the red and white striped cart that sat just off of the pathway.
Esai smirked as they got closed to the snack stand, eyeing the gorgeous blonde girl in the tight green dress that just so happened to bend over as they approached.
"What can I get you boys?" Sydney straightened up, greeting the two men with a smile as she held the knife behind her back.
The younger Alvarez felt himself starting to panic the second that he heard the woman's voice, ticking something in the back of his brain that told him to run. Then he saw it, the dark bruising peeking out from under her dress—the dark bruising that surrounded the stitched up bullet hole...
"Pop—" He gasped, turning around with wide eyes where his father pulled him into a hug.
"I love you, mijo." Alvarez winced as he felt the knife plunge into the back of his son's neck, holding him up as he gasped for air until he felt the final breath leave his heaving chest, lowering him to the ground with watery eyes.
Sydney felt a rush of pure, uncut satisfaction overtake her entire body—a feeling that only complete and total revenge could provide. She closed her eyes, revelling in the wave of peace as the sun shone down on her face, and the distant sound of banjos could be heard across the park. She inhaled deeply, letting herself ride out the high while Alvarez composed himself before she finally opened her eyes, watching as he kissed his son on the forehead before getting to his feet.
The dark-haired man pulled the folded envelope out of his back pocket as he took a deep breath, handing it to Sydney with a respectful nod before he turned to leave. He had a funeral to plan.
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Another body for our Cali Queen 😏
Song for this chapter
Run This Town - JAY-Z (feat. Rihanna & Kanye West)