A Kiss To Send Us Off

Chapter 30

Even before Amelia opened her eyes, she felt her head aching and her stomach churn more with every breath. She groaned, rolling over, and when she finally looked around she saw Raylan sleeping soundly beside her. In a panic, she looked down to find herself in just her bra and panties but, as she thought back, nothing but their drunken foreplay came to mind. She was sure though, almost completely positive, she had been stupid enough to sleep with him but simply was too drunk by that time to remember.

"Shit," she shook him roughly. "Did we fuck?" Wasting no time, she battered him with questions before he was fully awake. "You better have worn a fucking condom, Raylan. Did you? Did we? What happened?"

"Calm down," he said sleepily. "We fooled around but you changed your mind so we just passed out. You're one hell of a loyal old lady."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, highly offended, as she tried to redress without climbing out from the sheets. "I am loyal but we're separated and I was drunk."

"I meant you're loyal because we didn't." Raylan was hungover, tired and far from in the mood for one of the full-blown freak-outs he knew she was capable of. "Does he deserve that kind of loyalty? Has he come by or called? Let me guess, he's busy with the club?"

"Shut up," she barked. "Grand gestures in these situations aren't his thing." She hated even to bring it up because she so terribly wanted him to fight for her. "He's probably licking his wounds."

"So, he's a stubborn man's man, huh?" Sitting up, Raylan ran his fingers through his hair, and looked back over his shoulder at Amelia. "I'm not trying to be a dick, not necessarily, but I know you well enough by now to know you want more than that."

Glaring as she chugged a bottle of water from the mini-bar, Amelia hated how well he was able to pick her apart. "I grew up watching Say Anything," she smiled dreamily, "Romeo and Juliet, One Fine Day, so yeah, I have a skewed view on love. It's not really the way marriage is, not in real life."

"Is that it?" When he stood, in his boxers and a white undershirt, Amelia rolled her eyes.

"I never should have told you that shit." As he strutted into the bathroom, she tossed his jeans in behind him. "So what if I have some abandonment AND daddy issues, who doesn't?"

"I know I do," he answered through the closed door.

Amelia rolled her eyes again, like some moody teenager, but there was one distinct difference between his issues and hers; Raylan wasn't fooling around with and latching onto men while trying to fill the void, he wasn't doing anything for the love of a man to replace her father.

"But I know my dad now," she mused aloud, "So why aren't I magically fixed?"

"For the same reason," he pulled his shirt over his head, "That Juice isn't outside the window with a boom box. This is real life."

"Yeah and real life normally takes therapy to deal with that shit."

Raylan frowned and nodded. "Better man than me if you do it, I'd rather brood and suffer silently."

"I just want to be happy."

--

"What are you doing here?" Amelia was shocked to see Desiree sitting on the couch when she arrived at Max's with moving supplies. "I should have gotten the locks changed."

"You're a whip," Desiree laughed, "Got that from your father."

"I'll repeat the question, what are you doing here?" Dumping the tape and boxes on the table, Amelia peeked in the kitchen to see the blood had been sloppily wiped up. "I have lots to do."

"I wanted to talk to you, see how you're holding up, your father and I are worried."

Busting out into a fit of genuine laughter, Amelia shook her head and looked at Desiree in shock. "I never thought I'd hear those words."

"I'm not here to make up for the lack of bitchy teenage comments in our past." Des picked herself up off the couch and walked past her daughter, catching a whiff of liquor and men's cologne, on her way toward the front door. "I was going to try to talk to you about your marriage but from the smell of you I don't know how interested you really are in those vows."

"Who the fuck are you to say that shit to me?" Amelia felt guilty and was highly offended by her mother's remarks. Her movements were exaggerated by her anger as she began wrapping picture frames in old newspaper. Looking up at Des she scoffed in disgust. "Jesus, you promised Dad you'd be with him meanwhile you're fucking other dudes for money, classy."

Desiree drew her head back, surprised by the caustic vitriol in her daughter's words, and stared at Amelia. In all their fights, she had never said such hurtful things, albeit true in her eyes, to Desiree. "Maybe I'm just trying to keep you from losing the man you love and heading down the same path I did."

With that, Desiree slammed the front door and left Amelia alone in the house. She hated it. Desiree was right, what she'd done with Raylan was wrong, but the harsh truth didn't help with her Juice confusion. If it did anything, it made it worse; maybe she was no better than her mother had been and he certainly didn't deserve that.

--

"Jax," Juice raced into the clubhouse looking for his VP. "Can I get a minute?"

Jax nodded, highly intrigued by what Juice could be so hyperactive about when just the night before he was popping pills and heading over to Diosa. They moved into chapel together, Juice's hands shaking, and Jax closed the door.

"What's going on?"

"I need some time. I'm not gonna be around and I won't be reachable, I'm just letting you know."

"Letting me know," Jax smiled, "Or asking?"

Juice hesitated; never expecting Jax to put him on the spot like that, but slowly began to nod. "I'm letting you know, brother."

"Go get your old lady, Juice." Jax gave him a playful shove toward the door. "I'm sick of your goddamn moping anyway."

--

Not long after Desiree left, Amelia trudged up to the bathroom, embarrassed by the smell comment, and took a long shower. Ironically, she wanted to pull on a worn and faded SAMCRO t-shirt she'd stolen from Juice, but opted for a white long sleeve sleep shirt instead.

It was the last thing she wanted to do but the entire time she packed the bloodstain never left her thoughts. Forcing herself into the kitchen Amelia sank to her knees and began scrubbing the tiles with the strongest cleaner she had.

"I killed you and you're still controlling me." She uttered angrily just as the doorbell rang through the house. "Raylan, you are one persistent motherfucker."

Picking herself up, Amelia dragged her feet to the entryway and swung the door open. There stood Juice under the porch light, a fist full of daffodils in one hand and two plane tickets in the other, wearing a massive smile marked by a tinge of apprehension and seriousness.

"Hey babe, what do you say? It's about time right?" He handed her the plane tickets, in surprise she sucked in her bottom lip, her teeth nervously chewing the skin, as he spoke earnestly. "Come on, stop thinking Amelia, Christ, I'm not taking no for an answer. You're my wife and it's time we grow up and do this shit."

"JC," she gasped a little. "I don't," she was shocked by the gesture and hardly able to process it all. "I have work and you have the club," she smiled sadly at the incredibly romantic idea, "We can't just run off."

"Then quit," he shrugged. "I told Jax I was going to be away, told him I'm not gonna be available. I said no to the club for you because you are the most important thing and I gotta act like it. I'm tired of this." Juice continued with his voice firm but loving. "I love you and you're my damn wife, so I'm taking you on our goddamn honeymoon and then I'm bringing you back home. Please, be with me, Meely."

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