•••••••••Saorsa••••••••
Rated M (Minors DNI)
Chapter 3: The Task at Hand
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Chibs' mind was elsewhere for a bit as he loitered at the bar, eyes looking at nothing, beer in hand.
For a moment, his gaze wandered toward the hall, toward the direction that woman—Danika, (the name felt nice in his mind, slipped easily off his accented tongue)—was, maybe one or two thoughts he shouldn't have crossing his mind.
He quickly shook them off, especially as Bobby's bike pulled up outside, the roar of it dying to a low growl as Chibs headed towards the door to greet him.
Bobby held up a large paper bag, nodding as he slung his leg off his bike. "Got the good shit." he drawled, and Chibs grinned, following him back inside to Chapel.
Jax came swaggering up to the Table as Bobby dumped the contents of his bag onto the top of it, "There ya go, boys." Bobby said, Tig already reaching over him and swiping some.
"Oh, these muffins are great with tequila, Bobby." Big said appreciatively as he slid into his seat.
"Shit's addictive," Chibs said, tossing Juice some of the baked goods. "Turning me into a fat bastard."
"Turbinado sugar, organic flour, no processed shit." Bobby explained, clearly proud of himself. He cut a disapproving eye up to the others. "Not that any of you give a damn." he added with a slight chuckle.
"You put hash in them?" Jax asked.
"You know my rule. No bud before 9:00 a.m."
Jax flayed a spunky hand. "I don't have that rule."
Clay came prowling in from behind Bobby, walking around to the head of the Table. "Morning, kids. Deal with the Niners has officially closed." He took his seat with a grunt. "Spoke to Laroy, and he is giddy... about his new assault rifles." with that, he slapped down the money in his hands towards the others, watching the entirety of them light up as they took their shares. "Spend it wisely boys."
Chibs pulled his take into his hands, but his mind once again started wandering down the hall... even with the money in his hands, it was a little hard to focus on it as he once again considered those big brown eyes... but he heard Juice's words on the last bit: "Hale got a warrant to search our warehouse."
Everyone tensed as Jax's icy blue eyes hardened, leaving him leaning back and blowing out a sharp breath through his nose, looking to Clay.
"When?" the President asked.
"Today." Juice answered, lips a thin line.
Clay sighed and shook his head. "We'll keep an eye on it. Shouldn't be nothing to worry about."
Tig's eyes flickered, but he stayed quiet, fingers rapping softly on the table-top.
"Gemma heading over soon?" Chibs found himself asking.
Clay raised his brow. "Yeah. Why?"
He took a nonchalant tone at the accusations in Clay's eyes. "Figured she could go talk to our little Mayan." Mayan... he wasn't sure why he referred to her as one. She technically wasn't. Maybe to remind himself of exactly who's side she fell on: the enemy's.
But...
"I can't go back to Alvarez. I can't."
Maybe she had as many ties to the Mayans by now as he had to the IRA.
"Oh, I would gladly do it for her." Tig murmured, eyes hooding and his mouth quirking up in an obvious fantasy.
Something sharp and hot bolted through Chibs' insides, something primal and strange, but he ignored it, wondering why he suddenly cut his gaze sharply to his brother at the comment.
"She'll be up any minute." Clay said, pulling a cigar to his mouth. "On that note; what're we doin' about this Mexi?" he mainly looked to Jax, and the VP shrugged.
"I'll talk to her."
"She ain't in some sanctuary, Jax. She either delivers, or goes back where she came from."
"That can't happen." Chibs spoke up, straightening when all eyes turned to him. "I made her a promise, she ain't going back."
Clay gestured lazy with a hand. "You can't just offer up room and board, Chibby."
"You made her a promise?" Bobby asked incredulously, eyes squinting.
"Aye. You didn't see the fear in that girl's eyes," his accent thickened as his voice became filled with conviction, maybe anger. "Whatever those fucking Mexicans did to her... it wasn't good. She won't go back to 'em. So call a damn vote if that's what it takes."
Tig and Clay's brows shot up, the other three sharing similar looks.
Chibs wasn't sure where the protective instinct sprung up from, but he couldn't help it. The way she had looked at him...
Clay just sighed, leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him, cigar loosing smoke into the sun-lit room. "I can see this is important to you, brother. So, after I talk to her, we'll call a vote. But at the moment, it's undecided."
Jax just looked between Chibs and Clay, blinking. "Okay," he said. "I'll go get her."
Danika woke up startled, her eyes snapping open and going wide as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings.
It took her a few moments to realize this was where she fell asleep last night—though she didn't remember laying down to sleep—the dorm looking so different in the natural light from the sun that had just risen outside.
She glanced at the clock on the dresser, and the red numbers told her it was about seven in the morning.
The noise coming from down the hall told her that was what woke her, the sound of a motorcycle coming from outside, then the stomp of boots.
She quickly sat up and snatched her jacket off the end of the bed to dig into the pocket, finally pulling out the tiny cellphone and flipping up the cover. The screen only held one message, one text that she read with trembling fingers.
Alive?
She swallowed, taking a breath and blowing it out slowly before replying: Yes.
Then she snapped it shut and shoved it way back into the inner pocket, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans. After that she headed into the bathroom and stripped to her bra, tied her hair back, and splashed cold water on her face, arms and down her neck and chest, washing up best she could.
She had just flushed the toilet and finished re-dressing when she heard footsteps, causing her to stiffen. Three firm knocks sounded a moment later on the door.
"Hey, Danika, you awake?"
Jax...
"Uh—yeah."
"Can I come in?"
"Sure."
The door opened and he stepped inside with that seemingly-ever-present smirk of his, a sort of boyish charm about him that caught her off guard. So far, not one of them was turning out the way she had expected them to be save for Clay.
"Sleep alright?" he asked, and she realized he had a slight lisp to his speech.
"Yeah, fine." she answered, trying to keep her voice even, but suddenly she remembered the phone and sharply glanced to the jacket left on the bed. If they found that phone...
"My mom'll be over in a few, help you get some things together you might need. Hungry?"
"Yeah," she answered, hoping it didn't sound too unsure. "Actually, haven't eaten for a while."
Something flashed in his gaze, maybe pity, maybe questions, but she couldn't tell. He shifted, hands deep in his pockets and the early morning sunlight setting his hair glittering gold. "A'ight. Bobby brought food, why don't ya come down and have some?"
She nodded. "Okay, be down in a second."
Jax smiled and ambled out, closing the door behind him. She blew out a long breath as soon as he was gone, then snatched up her jacket.
Just to see, she quickly grabbed out her phone again and flipped it open.
The message on the screen made her already-uneasy nerves go tumbling into full anxiety again like they had been before she had spoke privately with Chibs last night.
Move. Talk tonight.
Her stomach churned, all her hunger suddenly gone. But she cleared the text and forced the tears in the back of her eyes to dry, shoving the phone back into its hiding place and slipping that hiding place onto her arms.
Then she walked out of the room and straight into the territory of the Sons.
She could hear rock music drifting through the wooded space as she made her way down the hall, then into the main room, where she was greeted by a young man who couldn't have been older than his twenties. He looked her up and down as she approached, a little half-grin taking over his face as he looked away, and she could see he was wearing a Prospect rocker still, he wasn't full patch yet.
"Hi," she said, trying for a smile.
He looked at her again, his smile growing. "Hey." he seemed flustered, his cheeks tinting pink, and she couldn't help but laugh under her breath.
"Danika," Jax's voice called to her, and she saw him coming back out from the room that must've been where their table was, because Tig and another man she hadn't met yet—a heavy-set, shorter man with thick, curly hair—were right behind him, the sound of scraping chairs enough to tell her the others wouldn't be far behind.
"Whoa..." the other man said upon seeing her, not being subtle about the fact that he was taking in everything he could and imagining more with his eyes. "I see the appeal."
Jax smacked his shoulder as Tig laughed at the words. "Just feed her, Bobby. Don't eye-fuck her."
Danika shifted a little, glancing at the Prospect, but he seemed like this was very normal behavior for them all.
The other man—Bobby—chuckled and looked at her again, although his eyes stayed up this time. "You allergic to anything, darlin'?"
Danika shook her head. "Not that I know of."
He nodded, then jerked his thumb at the Prospect. "Good. Sack, get the lady some grub."
She balked a little at the name he called him, but didn't ask. After all, it wasn't all that strange considering some of the nicknames she had heard among the Mayans. The Prospect hurried behind the bar and looked over his shoulder at her as he did. "Coffee?" he asked.
"Sure."
He went to work at the bar, and she turned away from him in time to see Clay and Chibs exit the Chapel, the former cutting her a glance under lowered brows, maybe irritation in his features. Shit, his presence alone seemed so imposing that it sucked the air out of the room for her. But the Scot...
He looked at her and went still for a moment, a little grin cracking on his face.
She found herself unable to move under those dark eyes, and finally let herself really look at him, let herself take him in on more general ground. His hair, dark and short, messily pushed back by his sunglasses perched on his head. His face scared and sun-worn, his facial hair sculpted around his chin but a little unkempt, his bare shoulders and arms were inked and muscular, but not chiseled like some, just enough to show he wasn't the kind of man to mess around with, if the scars weren't enough proof.
And that damn smile—it pinned her there beneath those earthly eyes. Fine... he was handsome.
But that was as far as she would let herself consider it, handsome. Nothing more. She was no fool, she knew his fond gazes were nothing more than a man simply wanting into her pants, they were all like that. The Scot was probably only in this club under some sort of IRA agreement. The sick bastards who treated her people like dogs. At the end of the day it didn't matter what he thought, she was a Mayan. He was a Son. White and Brown. Opposite sides of the dusty, blood-stained street.
"He botherin' you lass?" Chibs asked with a slight gesture towards Bobby.
Then again, maybe not...
She blinked away the thoughts in her head, and waved her hand. "No."
"Oh, come on, Chibs." Bobby grumbled on his way out the door. "When have I ever—"
"Every time you get the chance, shit-head."
Bobby's laugh drifted in from outside the threshold, and Danika couldn't help but smirk at their camaraderie. So much like Alvarez and Tio had been...
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, the cold in her stomach.
"Come on, Prospect," Chibs groaned, jerking his chin. "Move it along."
Sack fumbled and got out an apology, hurrying back to hand Danika a steaming mug. "I—uh, I put sugar. Cream?"
"No, thanks." she said, and offered him a little smile. He chuckled nervously, then headed off again.
He was sweet, she decided. That determination a bit like her own at that age. Again, she had to block against those kinds of thoughts. Maybe the Prospect was a nice kid, but... he was still not available for friendship.
None of them were. Not really, at least.
Keep your head, focus on your task.
"Gemma's here," Tig announced, heading out the door.
Danika looked towards the door at the words, a flash of anxiety and determination going through her. But... she figured the best wy to go about this was to find someone who may work in her favor, someone to relate to. Hopefully the Queen of SAMCRO would be that person.
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