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. |
i wanna stop the world and hide
but there's no place left to run, no place left inside
just want to stop and catch my breath
spend one second on this earth not scared to death!
Bob Schneider, "C'mon Baby"
Juice was out of the hospital, but she hadn't seen much of him—or anyone else, really; she'd had the shop mostly to herself recently. Something had happened, something she hadn't asked about, and it had sent the club into a tailspin. Jax had apparently decided not to go Nomad after all, and he and Clay spent long hours sequestered in the chapel. Sometimes the club was with them. Sometimes not.
It seemed like days had a way of flying by, like one of those movie scenes with pages flipping on a calendar. That's how Olivia felt now: outside of her own life, watching it flip past her. All she needed was an appropriately turbulent song and she'd have her very own montage. She hated the feeling. The powerlessness of it. The club—and the people in it—were drawing her in, and she wondered why it was different here. She'd always been able to keep herself outside of things before. Just an employee. Just a…whatever. Now, though, everything was trying to change, and she didn't know how to stop it.
All day people had been trickling in. Sack had told her they were going on lockdown: no one in or out without an escort. Gates locked. Guards posted. She shuddered at the thought and tossed a wrench into the drawer with a clatter. She had to get out of here before she couldn't. She wasn't part of any of this. She had no need to be locked down like some sort of prisoner.
She grabbed her bag from the office and stepped out into the garage for one last check. The bay doors were closed and everything was in its place. Even though she was in a hurry she couldn't leave things a mess; it would bug the fuck out of her all night and she wouldn't get any rest.
She had her hand on the door when it burst open. She jumped back, startled, and pressed a hand to her chest. "Fuck me, Juice, you nearly gave me a stroke!"
"Sorry," he said. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I was worried you might not've heard about the lockdown and left. Come on. Everyone's in the clubhouse."
He stood in the doorway, his hand extended, and his expression slowly morphed from relieved to nonplussed. "What's the matter?" he said.
"I'm not coming with you. I'm going home."
He stared at her. "Are you crazy?"
"I don't think so," she said. She started to brush past him, but he grabbed her arm. She jerked away and glared at him. "Please get out of my way. I need to get going before they shut the gates."
"You're not going anywhere except the clubhouse, Olivia."
"No, I'm not. I'm going home."
She spun away and started toward the office. He yanked the door shut behind him and hurried after her.
"Wait," he said. "Please, just wait."
She froze and turned, each movement slow and deliberate. She looked like a coiled spring: all potential energy ready to explode. He held out his hands and smiled a little.
"Come on, Liv. You know you gotta stay here. It's too dangerous out there. You live way out of town, all by yourself on that empty street. You're safer here."
The tension snapped and she charged at him. Despite their height difference she was somehow up in his face, and he fell back a little. "I'm not part of your club, Ortiz. I'm not part of whatever war you have going on. My life is mine, and when I drive out of here every day I leave the club here. Do you get that?"
"I do," he said. He started to touch her, but the look on her face made him drop his hands to his sides. "I understand, Olivia, but right now none of that matters. You work here. You're connected to the club. That's all these guys will care about."
"Why would they come after me anyway? I'm nobody."
He blew out a breath and decided to ignore that last bit. "They could come after anyone. That's the point. That's why everyone's here, where it's safe. Anyone with any connection to the club. Hell, Unser's here!"
It was maybe the worst thing he could've said.
"A cop!? Are you kidding me, Juice? There's a fucking cop in there, the Charming Police Chief, and you want me to just stroll on in and cozy up to him?"
"He's not here to fuck with you, Liv. He's here because he protects the club. You're ours. He would never mess with you."
"I am not yours!" she cried. She spun away and thrust her fingers into her hair. "I never should have come here. I should have just stayed in Las Cruces. Things were simple there. Easy. I did my job and I went home and I didn't get almost blown up or forced into any fucking lockdowns."
He scuffed his boot against the floor and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You can still go back there after this is all over."
"No," she said. "I can't. I don't ever go back. Only forward. Always forward."
"Olivia—" He stepped toward her but she whipped around to face him.
"I can't stay locked in here. You don't seem to get it, Juice."
"Of course I don't!" he said, his patience finally wearing out. "You don't tell me a fucking thing! Why are you running from the cops? What are you so afraid of?" He grabbed her left wrist hard enough to hurt, but she didn't pull away. "What the fuck is this thing? Did you go through an emo phase as a kid and take a razor blade to your wrist one day?"
Now she jerked out of his grip and shoved him away. Followed as he stumbled to shove him again. He clutched her arms to stop her and yanked her against him. "Stop it. Fucking stop it and just talk to me."
Her eyes spat fire and her freckles stood out like sparks against bright red cheeks. "You don't know a fucking thing about me, Ortiz. Stop pretending you do."
"Bullshit." He squeezed her arms hard enough to leave impressions in her skin and glowered down at her. "I know plenty of things, Olivia. For one I know every time I say your name it's a fucking lie. I know the way your skin tastes right there"—he nodded toward the curve of her shoulder—"and the way your face flushes when I kiss you."
He leaned closer and his voice dropped. "I know the noises you make when you come and I know that you're only ticklish on your ribs and the inside of your thighs."
"Right," she said, desperate to interrupt him before he could go on. "You know I take my tea with honey and that my nose goes funny when I'm thinking. Anybody who's bothered to look at me for five seconds before he fucks me would know those things, Juice. They don't mean a goddamn thing."
"Then tell me more! I've stopped asking because I know it's pointless and it pisses you off, but I want to help you, Olivia. I want to—" He stopped himself before he could say protect you, because from the way she was looking at him he thought she might stab him for it. "I just want to know you," he finished lamely.
She shrugged off his hold and pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her head down, and he waited silently while she wrestled with it. At last she looked up, her expression resigned. "It wasn't a razor blade. It was a steak knife. I was twenty-four and I thought it was my only option."
"To die? By steak knife? Liv—"
"No," she said and held up a hand. "I didn't want to die. That's the point. I wanted to live."
His brow furrowed. "Maybe you should start at the beginning."
She drew in a breath and let it out in a long, slow stream. "Yeah. Why not." A brief pause as she gathered her thoughts. Then, "When I was seventeen I met this guy. That's how every sob story starts, right? With the wrong boy."
He blinked at her and she hurried on.
"I was a senior in high school, and even since my mom died and things started going wonky I'd still been a good kid. A good student. I was on track to be valedictorian of my class and I'd applied for early admission at MIT, Georgia Tech, Berkeley…I wanted to be an engineer.
"He was…" She trailed off and let out a bitter laugh. "He was perfect. Smart, funny, sophisticated—at least to a seventeen year old. Good looking." A shrug. "Rich. He treated me like a princess, and what's more he encouraged all my dreams. It was his idea to apply early admission. He suggested California when I said I'd be content at Georgia Tech. In-state tuition and closer to him."
Their eyes met, and he understood what she was telling him. The significance of it.
She kicked at the ground and lifted her arms in a helpless shrug. "I was young and naive and I wanted to believe in him. He asked me to marry him after I graduated, and of course I said yes. I was so obsessed I dropped from first in my class to tenth and didn't even care. Three days after graduation, I packed a bag and walked out of my house and never went back. Two days after that we were married."
He tried not to act surprised when she said she'd married this guy. He'd gotten the impression she wasn't interested in marriage at all, not that she'd tried it once and it had gone spectacularly wrong. "I'm guessing he wasn't the Prince Charming you thought."
"Hardly. He started off slow, because even though I was pretty fucking enthralled, I also wasn't stupid. But by our first anniversary he was locking me in my room at night and loaning me out to his friends."
Juice choked and stared at her. "What?"
Her head tilted as if to say you heard me. "I was a possession to him, pure and simple. He brought me out when he wanted me and put me away when he didn't. When he was bored he might beat me just for the hell of it. He lied. Manipulated. Raped, of course; what's the point of having a wife if you aren't gonna fuck her, right?"
Juice's hands were shaking as he scrubbed them over his skull and locked his fingers behind his head. "Jesus Christ, Olivia. Jesus fucking Christ. You were with this cocksucker for six years?"
"I had nowhere else to go. No money. No friends. I hadn't spoken to my dad since the day I left home, and TJ—that was the cocksucker's name—had convinced me that my father hated me for abandoning him." She said it defiantly, her chin raised and her jaw tight, but he shook his head.
"I didn't meant it like that. I just meant—" He made a face and let his arms fall to his sides. "How did you get away?"
"Ah, well." Her mouth twisted. "In addition to using me as his own personal party favor when he and his dumb buddies got together, he also occasionally sent me to 'entertain' one of his clients. He usually just sprung it on me, day of, but for some reason this time he didn't."
A crease appeared between her brows and her gaze turned inward. "I think he wanted to punish me with it, you know? He knew how much I hated it, so he wanted me to watch me squirm some beforehand. It was stupid and arrogant, because all he did was give me time to plan.
"I did my homework. I knew where and how to cut to get an impressive amount of blood without severing any tendons—the last thing I wanted was to fuck up my hands. Over the years I'd started squirreling away pills from his collection, and by that time I had a pretty decent haul. I brought them with me that night. The guy, his client, was this real old school type. Ordered dinner from room service but had me serve it to him. Had me making his drinks all night."
"And every time he got a little something extra, I'm guessing," Juice said with a huff of appreciation.
She nodded. "He was half asleep by dessert, completely passed out twenty minutes later. I grabbed a knife off the room service tray and booked it to the nearest hospital." She tugged the cuff over her hand and held out her wrist. "I walked into the ER and did this. They stopped me before I could do the other one, which was good because it hurt like a motherfucker. Any suicide attempt is an automatic twenty-four hour hold, and once they saw my x-rays…well. They stopped asking my name after that.
"A cop came in to ask me a few questions and I decked her." She winced. "I'm not super proud of that. She was just doing her job, and she seemed sincere. Anyway, it got me locked up, and while I was there I met this woman." She smiled then, a brief curl of her lips. "She reminded me of my mom. God, I just…I was so scared. I kept thinking I'd made a huge mistake and I should go back and beg him—"
She shook herself and passed a hand over her eyes. "I ended up telling her everything, all those little sordid details I'm glossing over right now. Turns out her old man was the president of a pretty big MC."
"A Sons charter?" he said with a frown.
"No. Different club altogether. When I walked out of jail a week later they were there. All of them. These big burly guys on motorcycles. Even the guards looked spooked. They got me to one of their charters in Tennessee, and at some point I got handed off to the Sons."
A deep breath. "You should maybe know…the other night I told Jax a version of what happened, but not the whole thing, and not about…" She flexed her wrist. "I don't want him to know this part, and if he asks you anything—"
"It stays between us, Liv. I promise."
She acknowledged it with a nod and then stared at him without blinking as silence settled around them. It was so quiet they could hear the commotion from the lot outside, voices calling back and forth, tires on pavement, a baby crying. There was a rattle and a clang as the gates shut, but apart from a minute tightening around her eyes, she didn't react.
"Shit," he said at last. He shook his head, stunned. "That's one hell of a story, Olivia."
"Yeah," she said. "It's a humdinger. Juice—" She looked away sharply. When she turned back again he could tell by her face he wasn't going to like what came next. "For the last five years I've lived my life a certain way. I don't get attached. I keep moving. I cover my trail."
"You think he's looking for you?"
"No," she said shortly. "He's dead. His father, on the other hand…" She trailed off with a shrug. "He'll never stop, and his resources are, for all intents and purposes, unlimited."
"The club—"
"I hide out under the club's umbrella," she said with icy precision. "I don't get involved with the club. Or anyone in it."
"You mean the way you're involved with me," he said, his voice quiet.
A soft sigh. "Yeah, Juicy. I mean the way I'm involved with you."
"So what will you do? Run again?"
"I'm running out of hiding places. Charming was sort of my ultimate goal. SAMCRO. I figured if anyone could keep me off the radar it was you guys."
She hesitated. Then, "Juice, I knew who you were when I slept with you. I made a choice. I don't regret—that part."
"You just regret everything else," he said with a furrowed brow. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his cut and scowled down at the floor.
"No, I—I regret—I regret that my life is like this. I regret that I'm not the person I was ten years ago. Maybe she could've—" She broke off and bit her lip. "All I know is I can't. It's just not the way I'm built anymore."
"Tell me what you want, Liv. Whatever you want, I'll do it."
"I'll stay for the lockdown and I'll quit bitching about it. I'll talk to Unser. I'll even try to stop by the clubhouse from time to time, to socialize, and not stay holed up in here."
"But…?" he said when she didn't go on.
"But." She hauled in a breath. "But I need you to stay away from me, Juice."
"You mean tonight? During the lockdown?" He knew she didn't, but part of him still hoped.
"No." She closed her eyes. Opened them again. "Not just tonight. What happened at the hospital and the night of the bomb; nothing like that can happen again. I can't—I can't be around you right now. You stay away from me and I'll stay away from you and we'll both be happier for it."
He looked away. His jaw worked and his eyes were bright. She could tell he had his hands clenched into fists from the way the muscles danced in his arms.
"Juice, I just—"
"No." He stopped her with a gesture. "It's okay. You don't have to explain." He shuffled backwards, towards the door. "I can do that, if it's what you want. I won't hassle you about it and I won't try…I won't mess with you. You have my word."
She opened her mouth. Closed it again. "Okay," she said at last. "That's all—" She cleared her throat as her voice got thick. "That's all I needed to hear."
"Good," he said. Backed up a few more steps. "As long as we're all on the same page. I know how much you like that."
Her face scrunched and she started towards him, but he just shook his head and shoved his way out the door. He slammed it behind him and the hard finality of the sound echoed in the empty garage.
I'd love to hear from you guys if you're enjoying the story! Reviews and/or concrit are always appreciated. :D
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