A Kiss To Send Us Off

Chapter 13

Juice too drifted off as as he sat with Helen. It wasn't hard to do really, the beeping of the monitors and the gentle him of electronics lulled him to sleep rather quickly. Stretching, her back sore and stiff from the cot, Amelia smiled and kissed Juice's cheek before her Aunt's. Everyone was asleep, Amelia realized as she slipped into the hall to find Raylan, hat covering his eyes, slumped down in his chair. She kicked his ridiculous boot, startling him awake, and pointed toward the end of the hall.

"Do I need my escort for coffee and breakfast?"

"Yes you do," he said standing and straightening his clothes. His top buttons were undone, the skinny black tie he wore loosened around his neck, and Amelia liked to see him more relaxed. He didn't seem so bad just then. "And your escort needs coffee and breakfast too so it's a win-win."

With a little smile, she nodded and they headed down the hall, jumping on the elevator in silence, and grabbed themselves some much needed food and caffeine. Amelia picked at hers, the coffee she so eagerly poured sat untouched, as she stared at the table.

"I think she's going to die." Amelia said suddenly, shocking Raylan, leaving him without much to say in ways of comfort.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He looked over at her, red rimming her eyes and dark circles forming underneath. "Why do you think that?"

Shrugging, Amelia sat back and pushed her food away. "Well, I am a nurse, granted that is not a doctor, but I know how bad it is, the longer she's out the worse it gets. They're going in today to relieve some of the pressure on her brain from the bleed. The locals have no idea who did it, none and my husband isn't anywhere closer either."

"I did offer to help you with that." With his long, slender fingers, Raylan removed his hat and sat forward. His face softened as he thought of how much he loved his own aunt back in Harlan despite their history. "She raised you?"

"She did." Amelia said proudly. "She and Max, he's a dick I've come to realize, but he had his moments."

"Maximilian Daniel Shawcross," Raylan sighed heavily. He'd done his research and he didn't like Max, his initial impression was enforced by years of shady associations. "He makes my little neck hairs stand up."

Amelia wanted to laugh at that, the Marshal had a strange way of talking, but his concern over Max superseded any humor she found in him. "Why?"

"You tell me, you lived with him for most of your life, haven't you?"

Rolling her eyes back in her head, Amelia thought back over her childhood for something, anything, of consequence but she was coming up blank. "Well yeah, but he," she paused and slowly shook her head, "There's nothing. He was boring actually."

"And your life now? Is it boring?" His lips turned into a crooked grin as he asked, the crinkles in the corners of his eye never more apparent than under the terrible cafeteria lighting.

"I wish it was," she held her head up, cheek in her hand, as she leaned her embow on the table. "We haven't even been married for five months and I'm exhausted with this."

"With him or with his club?"

Although she was aching for a friend and Raylan provided a keen ear and a pretty face, Amelia knew he was interested for the worst reasons. "You know I can't talk to you about his club business. Even if I could, I don't know anything."

"Is it this?" Tugging at the gold star on his belt, Raylan slid it across the table toward her. "It can be intimidating."

Tracing the metal with her index finger Amelia smiled sadly. "I love him and I love my dad."

Drawing his head, back Raylan looked at Amelia, clearly perplexed and wanting answers, and Amelia obliged, she was far from in the mood to play a game. She ran her finger along her cheeks mimicking Chibs scars and knowing Raylan had done much more than just look into SAMCRO.

"Oh, interesting. Was that a coincidence?"

"A huge, weird, insane one. I love them and the guys aren't bad but, I've struggled with the life since I found out."

"My daddy was a career criminal, he wasn't good at it, but he stuck with it." His southern drawl was charming, as was his use of 'daddy', a southern trait he carried with him to every state he was assigned. "I get it, not your pull; I have no love for my father, but the craziness. I don't think my upbringing was dangerous, or as dangerous, as what you're living."

"Food here is shit, huh?" She forced an obnoxious laugh. "I should get back."

"Amelia," Raylan called out after her. "I can help you."

"No, I don't think you can."