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Chapter 627 When Mickey Visits Clay

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Mickey Smith also known as Buck Jeffers was thinking of what a complete and total asshole Jax Teller was. He thought he was some hotshot because he was SAMCRO's VP and then he'd had the nerve to strip him of his cut, have him beat up and then had him literally kicked in the butt so he fell down the hill. That was over the top. That cocky little son of a bitch.

He got that the guys were angry over the road mishap, but riding a bike was dangerous, that's why you had to be a badass to ride a bike. He'd had some bike issues and chaos ensued. Shit like that happened and the guys knew that. They should have understood accidents happen and he didn't mean to run into them. Hey when you ride that close together at a high rate of speed, shit happens. He was just unfortunate to have been the one to lose control of his bike, but it could have happened to anyone.

Not a single one of the guys checked on him or visited him while he was in the hospital and Clay was in the same damned hospital and he was sure they visited him. That wasn't right. He got hurt too and they needed to remember that. He was a victim too. Where's the brotherhood?

This was Jax's fault. He wanted to beat the hell out of Jax "I'm the VP" Teller. In Jax's present condition, he actually might be able to do that. He'd have to do it quick before he healed and wear a disguise because if Jax ever found out it was him, he'd kill him. He'd give that some more thought later.

He was being discharged. He'd gotten a concussion and they kept him in the hospital for observation and to make money. Greedy bastards. Anyway, he was being released so he decided it was time to pay a visit on Clay before he headed back to Charming. Clay had damned well better make it right with the MC because he still intended to be part of SAMCRO.

Mickey peeked in Clay's room. He didn't have a roommate and Gemma wasn't there yet, so Mickey seized the opportunity to have a word alone with Clay.

"How are you feeling?" Mickey asked automatically. He didn't really care about Clay's medical condition, but he knew he needed to ask to keep up appearances.

Clay gave him a look that would have caused a prospect to run from the clubhouse in terror. Mickey just looked back at him, a small smile on his face.

"Well?" Mickey prompted.

"I feel like shit," Clay said, his eyes icy as he stared at Mickey. "I got hit, thrown across a highway and almost run over by a car. My leg had to be put together by a surgeon, so how the fuck do you think I feel?"

"That bad, huh? Well I've survived some pretty terrible accidents like the time I got swept by the city's street sweeper, so I know what you're going through," Mickey said ruthlessly cheerful.

"You almost wiped out my entire club," Clay said.

"I didn't do it intentionally. It was an accident. Something was wrong with the bike and I lost control. It was beyond my control. It wasn't my fault."

Clay's face flushed with anger.

"You lost control because you don't know how to ride a bike anymore."

"That's a lie," Mickey denied hotly. "You never forget how to ride. It was the damned bike. I hit some oil and a pothole. That didn't help either. Anyway accidents happen on a run. It's to be expected."

"You almost wiped out the entire club," Clay repeated.

"Accidents happen," Mickey retorted raising his voice. "Get over it. It wasn't like I deliberately murdered anyone," Mickey said locking eyes with Clay. Reminding him of the leverage he had over Clay was always a smart move and Clay needed some reminding.

"Oh, I'll get over it. It's going to take me a couple of months thanks to you."

"Did you hear what your club did to me while you were lying injured on the side of the road? Did they tell you? Your precious VP took my cut, had me beat up and then kicked down a hill."

Clay chuckled. Every time he heard what they did to Jeffers he laughed. His only regret was he'd been unconscious and hadn't been able to watch.

"Yeah, I heard," Clay said when he stopped laughing.

"It isn't fucking funny. There was no need for that kind of violence. It was an accident and they should have understood. Jax didn't have the authority to strip my patch."

"It's not even your patch," Clay pointed out.

"He doesn't know that. I want my cut back and I want to hang out at the clubhouse. Jax threatened me if I came to the clubhouse. You better get him in line," Mickey said pointing a finger at Clay, "and fix it so I can return to the clubhouse. You're the damned president. Get your club in line."

"You do get why the club is pissed at you?" Clay asked incredulously. "You injured almost every single guy. I don't have a time machine to go back and prevent your stupidity. You should never have come on the run."

"It's your fault," Mickey said angrily. "You should have started us on a small short run."

"And if you can't competently ride a bike, you shouldn't have come."

Mickey's fists clenched as he resisted the urge to pummel Clay. It would be so easy to do, but he could be the bigger man and restrain himself.

"It wasn't my fault," Mickey said hotly. "I want back in SAMCRO and I want my cut. You need to make it happen."

"You do get the guys hate you right now? I'm going to have to really rein them in to keep them from killing you. They are that pissed."

"You remember what will happen to you if anything happens to me? You will find your ass extradited to Texas and you'll be facing a murder charge. Texas loves the death penalty."

Clay's jaw tightened.

"I can't suggest letting you back in SAMCRO while the guys are injured. It's too soon. I may be president, but I'm not a dictator. Let the anger die down, let everyone including me heal and get well. After a couple of months, I'll bring up letting you back in. For now, the best I can do is to keep you alive."

Mickey didn't like the answer. He wanted to return to SAMCRO immediately, but Clay had a point that he needed to give the guys a chance to heal and let their wrongly placed anger cool. Once the guys had a month or two to think things over, he was sure Clay would get the guys to let him back in SAMCRO and return his cut or Clay could face the criminal consequences. He wasn't going to back down.

"You damned well better or you know what will happen," Mickey said.

He walked out of Clay's room brushing past Gemma as he left.