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Come With Me Tonight	By : copperleaves Category: S through Z > Sons of Anarchy Views: 2633 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Sons of Anarchy, and I'm sure as hell not making any money off of this. I do own Olivia Gable and any characters associated with her history.

Chapter List
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some of them were angry at the way the earth was abused

by the men who learned how to forge her beauty into power

and they struggled to protect her from them

only to be confused

by the magnitude of her fury in the final hour

and when the sand was gone and the time arrived

in the naked dawn only a few survived

and in attempts to understand a thing so simple and so huge

believed that they were meant to live after the deluge

Jackson Browne, "Before the Deluge"
It was getting late and she could hear the crowd outside as it grew. Everyone was congregating in the lot, and unless she wanted to get caught up in whatever club-related shindig was going down, she knew she had to get out fast. She lowered the hood on the car she'd been working on and stripped off her thick black latex gloves. Stretched her arms over her head and winced as her sore elbow caught.
"Fuck me gently with a chainsaw," she muttered. All she wanted was a hot bath and something to eat. She didn't have a bathtub installed yet at her new house—she didn't even have rooms at this point—and she couldn't cook for shit. Looked like it'd be takeout and a cold shower once again.
She heard a general banging and commotion coming from the office, and she peeked around the tool chest that was in her way. The guys had quickly learned not to sneak up on her, and since the time she'd threatened to hang bells around their necks they always made noise when coming and going.
That had been a week ago. She'd been here nearly a month, total, and in that time she'd melded in pretty well. The guys treated her with either a wary respect or steered clear altogether. She and Juice had established a tenuous friendship that—she was proud to note—didn't include sex. Gemma had helped her get the house for a steal, but the place was a pile and the seller knew it. Fixing it up was giving her a sense of home that she hadn't had in…well. A very long time.
She'd met Clay just once, and he'd struck her as both gruff and dangerous—but affable enough if you didn't fuck with him or his club. She had no intentions of doing either. Jax was distant but polite, and she could tell he didn't trust her yet. He couldn't figure out where she'd come from or who she was, and it bugged him.
Chibs had been friendly from the beginning, a slightly disconcerting combination of charm and almost fatherly concern, and she had a sense he was the one who kept the others away from her, maybe even more than the threat of Gemma's wrath.
Piney mostly ignored her. Bobby didn't come around the garage much, so she'd only seen him a handful of times. Half-sack, poor thing, dropped something every time she tried to talk to him, so she'd started to keep her distance. He was going to break something some day—maybe his own foot—and she didn't want to be responsible.
Tig and Opie were starting thaw. Tig because she kept kicking his ass at poker and Opie because…well, she wasn't sure what the deal was there. She liked him, maybe more than any of the others (except Juice, but that was a whole different, ridiculously complicated story), and he'd taken to dropping by the shop when she was working. Sometimes he picked up a wrench and puttered away at a bike or a car, but mostly he just sat, like a quiet mountain. Somehow his presence didn't unnerve her the way anyone else's would, and so when he showed up she simply nodded, kicked a stool his way, and got back to work.
"Liv?" Juice called from the doorway.
He couldn't see her around the chest, she realized. She shut the last drawer and popped out from behind it. "Hey. What's up?"
"Uh, not much. We were about to start a game. Wanna join?"
"Not sick of losing to me yet?" she said with a grin.
"I'm not. Tig's gettin' there. He's half convinced you cheat."
She blinked innocently. "I would never cheat, Juicy. I learned years ago that hustling pool and sweeping up at poker were better ways of making money than waiting tables. So I adapted."
That seemed to be the story of her life: adapting to whatever situation she found herself in. She'd adapted to a life lived hustling pool and cards. To a life on the run. And now, it would appear, to a life in Charming.
"Anyway," she said, "I can't. I'm trying to finish up so I can get out of here. I've just gotta take care of that nasty old van out in the lot."
"What van?"
"You didn't see it, Juicy boy?" Chibs said as he joined them from the office. He tossed a set of keys from hand to hand and grimaced. "Tow truck brought it in this morning and it's been sitting there all fucking day."
"I couldn't find any paperwork on it when I was looking earlier."
"Me neither," he said. "I was just gonna pull it in here for the night and we can take a look at it tomorrow."
"Oh, no, that's okay." She held out her hand for the keys. "I've got it. I'm technically still on the clock, and I'm sure you guys want to get to your…whatever it is." She waved toward the lot.
Chibs' eyes dropped from her face down to the arm she had extended toward him. He took careful note of the ugly purple bruise that dripped down from under her sleeve and curled around her elbow. "It's no problem, lass," he said. "You've done enough for one day."
Her head tilted. "What, this?" She let out a small huff of laughter. "No. It's nothing. I ran into the wall."
Juice lifted his brows. "Really, Liv?"
"Ollie girl," Chibs said, using the ridiculous nickname he'd coined for her within the first few days of her arrival, "you know we take care of our own around here, yeah? If you got anything that needs…taking care of, you just haveta ask."
Her eyes darted between the two of them and it dawned on her that they'd planned this. They had cornered her in the garage, alone, to confront her about some mythical wife-beating boyfriend.
"Fuck," she muttered on a breath. Rolled her eyes and hooked her thumbs in her back pockets. "Look, guys, thanks, but really. I spent the weekend demo'ing my new place. I knocked out all the old lathe and plaster and now it's nothing but studs. Last night I was wandering around in the dark and mistook a gap between studs for an actual doorway. That's literally what happened."
Juice studied her through narrowed eyes. "You're serious?" he said.
"As a heart attack." Her mouth quirked and she dropped her chin. Scuffed the toe of her boot at a spot on the concrete floor. "One thing y'all should know about me: I made a promise a long time ago that the next man who raised a hand to me wouldn't live to take his next shit." She looked up with a smile that was deceptively sweet. "I always keep my promises, boys. It's a personal point of pride."
Neither of them missed the way she'd phrased it: the next man. So someone had, once. Juice wondered where that guy was.
Her expression softened and she relaxed into an easier stance. "It wasn't a big deal. I just bruise easy, like a ripe peach."
Chibs and Juice exchanged a look, and Chibs shrugged. "The lady's a delicate flower," he said.
Juice snorted and shook his head. "A delicate flower with a six inch switchblade."
"Think of it as a really big thorn," she said, grinning now. "Anyway, now that that's settled…" She trailed off and held out her hand again.
"Nah, lass, I've got it. Go on home and put some ice on that elbow."
She crinkled her nose. "I'm not actually a delicate flower, you know."
"Come on, Liv," Juice said. "I'll walk you to your car."
Sometimes it was easier just to give in. She'd learned pretty fast to pick your battles when it came to dealing with these guys—and not just the ones in Charming; every MC was different, but the type of man attracted to one varied only a little. She held her hands up in surrender. "Yeah, okay. Lock up behind you once you get it parked."
Chibs snorted. "I'm not new, Ollie."
The three of them walked out to the lot together, but once they were clear of the garage, Chibs peeled off one way and she and Juice went the other. She tucked her hands in her pockets, unconsciously mirroring him, and they strolled toward her car locked in an awkward, charged silence.
"We just wanted to make sure you're okay. Sack noticed your arm this morning and mentioned it to Tig. He—Tig, I mean—was ready to kill somebody right then. Chibs and I got him calmed down and said we'd talk to you about it."
Her lips twisted in a brief, appreciative smile. "Tig's moral code will never cease to confound me."
"It's pretty simple once you figure it out," Juice said. "Don't fuck with dogs. Don't beat up women. Don't rat." He hitched a shoulder. "Those are the three basic rules."
"The cornerstones of the Church of Tig. Good to know." They were at her car by then, and she leaned back against it, arms crossed.
"I know what you guys are about. I know how it works. But I—" She looked away. Back. "It's hard for me sometimes. I look after myself."
Juice sighed and scrubbed a hand over his mohawk. "Isn't that why you're here? So the MC can protect you?"
"That's different," she said with a shake of her head.
"No, Liv, it's really not."
She didn't want to argue with him, but it was. What she wanted from the MC was passive protection—anonymity and the security of knowing no one would sell her out if anyone came poking around. What Chibs and Juice had just offered was something else altogether. It meant the MC getting involved in her everyday life. Oozing into all those little nooks and crannies she tried to shore up against them.
It was the last thing she wanted.
"We just wanna look out for you," he said when she went quiet. "Why's that a bad thing?"
She looked at him with a raised brow. "We?"
He shuffled his feet and ducked his head. "The club, yeah. I guess maybe—I guess some of us more than others." When his eyes met hers again his expression was somehow both wry and self deprecating, and the combination made her laugh.
"Why don't you call me Ollie like everyone else?" she said, seemingly apropos of nothing..
It surprised him, and his grin lit up his face and crinkled the corners of his eyes. He hitched a shoulder. "It doesn't suit you, that's all."
She opened her mouth to comment—something biting and pithy, she would think later—when it happened. Juice was facing her, his back to the lot, but she had a view of the van. Chibs had gotten held up by Tig as he passed, and he was just now getting to it. She watched him try to start it, but she was too far away to see the moment when he realized something was very wrong. Suddenly he was running, screaming at everyone to get down, and the next thing she knew the fucking thing blew.
Juice threw himself at her, and her breath was knocked out as she smashed into the side of the car. She stared, wide-eyed and horrified, as Chibs flew threw the air like a rag doll. There was screaming. The stench of fuel oil. The numbing roar of the fire. Her ears were ringing, and for a moment she didn't hear Juice yelling at her.
She blinked at him, stunned. "What?" she managed, choking a little as she tried to get her breath back.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"Why would I be hurt?" she said, genuinely confused. Chibs was hurt. Chibs might be dead. Chibs might be dead because he'd tried to do something nice for her.
Juice shot a glance over his shoulder and then looked back at her. He held her face between his hands and stared hard. His brown eyes were wide and frightened, his voice hoarse. "I gotta go, Liv. I gotta check on Chibs. I gotta make sure everyone is okay. Stay here. Understand me? Stay the fuck here."
"Go," she said. "I'm fine. Go." She swallowed hard. "I can't stay. The cops will be here. I have to go, Juice. I can't—"
"Fuck," he said, violently. "Then just wait a second, okay? I'll be right back. I'll take you home."
Her brow creased. "You think you're gonna drive my car?"
"Jesus fuck, Olivia, priorities! We'll take my bike. Just. Fucking. Wait!"
His desperation finally penetrated the fog. She gripped him so hard her knuckles went white. "Yeah, okay, I'll wait," she said. "If I see cops, I'm gone. But I'll wait as long as I can."
"Good." He planted a rough kiss on her forehead and gently pried her fingers off his wrists. "I'll be back," he said and took off across the lot.
The others were all gathered around Chibs, and she couldn't really see what was happening. Jax was knelt next to him, and Tara had joined him only a few seconds later. Olivia crossed her arms over her chest and grasped her elbows. Hissed in pain when she hit the bruise.
"A delicate flower," she murmured. She gasped out a laugh. It suddenly struck her as hilarious, the absurdity of it. The pointlessness. With a growl of rage she knelt on the pavement and laughed until her sides ached.

Jax barely seemed to hear when Juice told him he had to take Olivia home. His blue eyes looked blank and dazed, and he pivoted his head toward Juice and blinked.
"What?" he said.
It reminded him so much of the scene with Olivia he nearly choked. Instead he cleared his throat and tried again. "I gotta take her home, Jax. She's fuckin' spooked by the cops for some reason, and she's in no condition to drive. She's in shock or something."
Spooked by the cops. Weren't they all? Jax made a mental note through the muddle in his brain to question Gemma a bit harder. Or maybe Clay. Clay knew at least part of the story, why this girl was apparently under their protection and why it was important to keep her away from the cops. She wasn't an old lady—or a former old lady—and besides her uncanny knack for fixing nearly anything broken, she didn't seem to have anything overly special about her.
She was just a girl. A girl who'd spent the last five years bouncing from charter to charter like some sort of hot potato until she'd finally ended up in Charming. Redwood Original. Maybe next they could send her to fucking Belfast.
"Yeah, Juice," he said. "Get her out of here. Hale's like a dog with a goddamn bone, and we don't want him nosin' in on the legit side of things too."
He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked back at the smoldering remains of the van. "Keep your phone on and close. Clay'll probably want us back here as soon as we get Chibs to the hospital."
"Call me the second you know anything," Juice said, his eyes trained on their brother's prone form. A pool of blood formed around his head like a halo, and it was way too big for comfort. Tara was still working on him, but it was obvious there wasn't much she could do for him here. At this point they were just waiting for the ambulance and hoping he could hold on.
"Go on," Jax said and jerked his chin toward the Cougar.
Gemma stepped up next to her son and watched as Juice darted back across the lot. "Where's he goin'?" she said.
"Take Ollie home." He pinned her with a level look. "You wouldn't know why she's so freaked out by the cops, would you?"
Gemma met his eyes easily, and her mouth twisted in a wry smile. "Ask Clay. He knows more than I do."
"Bullshit. You called the play on this one."
"Maybe I did," she said, "but it's Clay's decision how much the club knows about it, not mine. The girl has a right to her secrets, Jax. We all do."
"Not if they're a danger to this club."
Gemma rolled her eyes. "Here's an idea: ask her. Maybe she'll tell you." With that she turned her back on him and marched back to the others. Tig slipped his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. Jax stood a few steps apart, his eyes on Chibs and Tara, and the roar of sirens filled his ears like a banshee's wail.
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Come With Me Tonight