Living with the Club

Kiss

Juice held Rick until his tears subsided. He hadn't notice the sun come up until it was just about over head.
"Are you ready to go?"
Rick nodded.
"Look at me."
He does, slightly.
Rick's eyes were puffy.
"Walk back, I'll catch up with you, but don't leave without me," Juice said.
Rick nodded without a word and started walking.
Juice dialed Veronica when he was out of sight and started to clean up the chains and the fallen branch.
"Where are you?"
"Rick tried to kill himself."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"It's true. I'm taking him back to the club. I'm glad I read your texts before driving home. If I hadn't, he might be dead. Fuck. Fuck! I yelled at him. How was I so oblivious to this?"
"Don't beat yourself up over it, baby. We should be glad that we caught it at all."
Juice starts walking back, "I don't know if I should bring this to the club or not."
"Maybe talk to Jax's and see what he says. You don't want to bring everyone in on this knowledge because it might do more harm than good, but you should definitely see what Jax has to say. Is Rick in any immediate threat, should I come?"
"Why?"
"I have a hair appointment in San Jaoquin, but I can cancel it."
"No, he'll be fine for a few hours. I'll text you and keep you updated."
"Okay, I love you. Try to be as empathetic as you can!"
"I will, love you too."

Juice made Rick wait in the garage until Jax came walking up. Rick had to be around so he knew what this meant for the club.
"What's going on?" Jax asks.
Juice puts out a cigarette and looks at Jax, "I need your advice, brother."
Jax nods for him to continue.
Juice grabs Rick's cut and pulls down to expose the redness more fully.
"What about it?" Jax asks, confused, "I thought you caught it on a security chain at Oswald's."
Rick peers at Jax, his face straight. He doesn't say a word, which leads Jax to the conclusion that it was self inflicted.
Jax looks at Juice then back at Rick, "oh, shit, Juice?"
"I don't know what happened, man. I guess...doing the time. The Russians. Then Miles, and..." Rick trails off.
Juice stands closer to Jax and speaks quieter, "I'm not sure how to handle this."
A single tear falls down Rick's face, "it  was a mistake."
He looks at both of them full on, "I'm know that."
"All right, give us a minute," Jax tells Ricky.
Ricky walks out of the garage, leaving Juice and Jax alone to talk.
They face each other and Jax speaks first, "Jesus Christ."
"I found him at Oswald's. He was trying to hide the evidence."
"Son's don't kill themselves. Clubs going to vote him out. No one's going to trust him," Jax says.
"I know. That's why I'm talking to you first. But, Jax, he's my brother."
"You trust him?"
Instead of giving him a straight answer, Juice talks, "He's my brother, Jax. That's the hard part. He's my flesh and blood. And I can't say I haven't been where he is. My first kill. Was unsuspecting. I could have just as easily been the one hanging from a tree."
"Big difference between thinking about it and actually doing it."
"Yeah. I'm going to watch him for awhile. Veronica's coming soon, too. We'll see where he's actually at. And we have to get Clay to take him off this cartel shit. I don't want him getting more wreckless and thoughtless."
"Yeah, okay."

Veronica pulls into Teller-Morrow after driving to San Jaoquin and realizing she didn't need to get her hair done, but she did need to be around for her family.
She walked into the clubhouse and saw Juice on a laptop and Rick was searching for something.
"Hey, guys," she said, walking up to Juice and placing a kiss on his cheek.
"Hey, baby. What happened to getting your hair done?"
"I changed my mind," she said, but Juice knew what she wanted to say.
I'm here for Ricky.
"What are you guys doing anyway?" She asks.
"Ricky is checking for bugs and I'm checking the database to make sure the cops didn't put their noses where they shouldn't."
Veronica nods, painfully aware that Rick hadn't spoken a word.
"Rick?" She asks.
"What?"
"Can I bum a smoke?" She asks, knowing her old man had cigarettes, but she knew Rick would have weed.
"Cigs or weed?"
"What do you think?"
"Veronica, do you really have to smoke right now?" Juice chimes in, a warning in his voice.
Veronica ignores him, "Rick?"
"Yeah, I'll smoke with you."
They walk out of the clubhouse and sit at the picnic table.
He hands her a weed cigarette and let's her light it.
"You know?" He asks, but it's more of a statement than a question.
"Of course, I know," she replied, handing it to him.
He smokes it, "Nothing to say?"
"I don't want to suffocate you, Rick. I don't know what's going on or why you're feeling so trapped that death is the only way out. I don't know. All I know, is I don't want to make it worse. I'm just here, I guess. If that makes sense."
"It does," he gets up and walks toward the garage.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to work on my bike."
She watches him go before finishing off the weed. She knew she must have reeked of it so she went into the clubhouse and sprayed herself with the perfume that she keeps in Juice's room.
When she returned she saw him talking to the Sheriff.

"Your guys already left. Crime scenes down," Rick says, seeing that Veronica had come back out from the clubhouse and she was on the picnic table, gawking at them.
"Oh, it's just a followup," the Sheriff takes off his glasses and stares him down, "you have to pick up the phone when I call you, Rick."
The Sheriff tosses an evidence into the box Rick is carrying and continues, "now, there's six disposable burners in there, and I know you and your brother are responsible for the club's communication."
Rick drops the bag of burners, "I'm done. I can't do this anymore."
The Sheriff's eyes finally spot the redness on his neck, "Jesus Christ. What did you do?"
"Tell them I want out," Rick was level headed as he spoke, his eyes firm.
Then he walked toward the clubhouse where Veronica is sitting.
"What was that about?" She asks.
"Nothing. My stupid P.O. is riding me so he feels inclined to always ride me."

Veronica and Juice head home around nine. Rick had gone to talk to his P.O. and Juice trusted that it was true.
"Have you heard from Juice since we saw him?" Veronica asks, pulling out a frozen pizza and sticking it into the oven.
"No. Have you?"
"No."
"I'll call him shortly."
"No, let's leave him be for a while," Juice says.
Veronica nods.
Juice slides his arms around her waist. Her hands tugged his tshirt and pulled him closer.
He leaned into kiss her, but there was a pounding on the front door.
"Stay here," he said, drawing his gun.
She watched him looked the the peephole and immediatly sheath his weapon and open the door.
Rick pushed his way inside, "I fucked up, brother. I fucked up so bad."