~𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙻𝚈𝙳𝙴~

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪-𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Tig sat at the bar in the clubhouse, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. The usually chaotic room was quiet, save for the low hum of a TV in the corner. He stared at the phone on the counter, willing it to ring, willing her to call. Seven weeks. Seven goddamn weeks since Bellatrix had walked out the door, swinging her helmet onto her hip, muttering something about needing a ride to clear her head.

That was it. No calls, no texts, no word. Just silence.

The sound of boots on the wooden floor broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see Juice approaching, his laptop tucked under his arm.

"Hey, Tig," Juice said cautiously, knowing how fragile the man's temper had been lately.

"What?" Tig barked, more impatient than angry, his nerves raw.

Juice held up a hand. "I've got something. I tracked Bellatrix's cellphone pings."

Tig stood abruptly, the stool screeching against the floor. "And?"

"She's in New Orleans." Juice set the laptop on the bar and opened it, showing a map with a series of dots. "Her phone's been pinging off towers in the French Quarter for the past week. She's staying put there."

Tig stared at the screen, his jaw tightening. "New Orleans," he repeated, his voice low.

Juice nodded. "Yeah. She's not exactly hiding, but she's not moving around much either. I figured you'd want to know."

Tig slammed his hands on the bar, the sound echoing in the empty room. "Seven weeks, Juice. Seven fuckin' weeks, and she's been partying it up in the Big Easy?"

Juice held up his hands in defense. "I don't think it's like that, man. She's... I don't know. Maybe she just needed to get away."

Tig glared at him, grabbing his jacket from the back of the barstool. "Get away from what? Me? The kids? This life? She doesn't get to just run off without a word!"

"Tig, wait," Juice said, trying to keep the situation from escalating. "Just... don't go in there guns blazing, alright? If she's in New Orleans, she probably needed to clear her head. You know how much she loves that place."
...

Tig stood in the middle of the living room, pacing back and forth while Stetson and Shelbee sat on the couch, watching him nervously. Seven weeks. Seven damn weeks without a single word from Bellatrix. His frustration and worry had reached a boiling point.

He stopped pacing and turned to the kids, crouching down to their eye level. "Alright, listen up. I'm gonna head out for a bit, but you two are gonna stay with your grandma and grandpa for a couple days, okay?"

Stetson frowned, his small arms crossing over his chest. "Why? Where are you going, Dad?"

Tig hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "I've gotta go find your mom. That's all. Just... grown-up stuff, kiddo."

Shelbee's lip quivered as she hugged her stuffed animal closer. "Is Mom okay?"

Tig swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a small smile. "Yeah, sweetheart. She's fine. She just... needed some time. But I'm gonna bring her home, I promise."

He packed an overnight bag for the kids, grabbing their favorite toys and a couple of books. By the time he loaded them into the truck, his chest felt tight with worry.

When they pulled up to Gemma and Clay's house, Gemma was already waiting on the porch, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "What's this about?" she asked as Tig got out and opened the door for the kids.

"Bellie," Tig said simply, handing over the bags. "She's in New Orleans. Juice tracked her phone."

Gemma's expression softened slightly as she helped Shelbee out of the truck. "And you're going after her."