Living with the Club

To Be

Veronica hadn't seen Gemma in several days and she hadn't noticed. She rolled into Juice in their bed, "Where's Gem been?"
"Some built up shit between her and Clay."
"So..?"
"He beat her. She looks messy."
"Oh my god."
"The club has some messed up ideas on what a relationships are suppose to look like. I pray to God that would never happen to us."
"It might, if we stay here."
"I promise, we'll leave."
She says nothing and looks at the clock.
"It's eleven, don't you have club stuff?"
"I told Jax I would be in at one. I'm missing a meeting with the Irish, but he said he'd brief me."
She nodded, rolling back into him. Juice pulls her closer to him and they just lay in silence.

Juice gets to the club and sees that Ricky's bike isn't there.
Neither is half the other guys, but Rick not being there bothered him. He  had gnawing feeling in his stomach. He called twice and got voicemail both times.
"Hey, Clay. Have you seen Rick?"  Juice asks as Clay stuffs his phone into his pocket and goes to his bike.
"I don't know, brother. With me," Clay tells him.
Juice follows behind him and ends up at an Irish black market baby factory.
He stays back by the bikes not wanting to be associated with that shit.
Juice tried Rick again while he waited for things to clear up.
He was growing increasingly impatient with Rick not answering his calls, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. He had to admit he was so terrified that he would get a call from the Sheriff saying he had found his brother's body off in the woods some place, hanging from a tree. He tried not to think of that anymore.

Veronica got a call from Juice at twelve in the morning.
She sleepily answered, "hello?"
"Clay's in the hospital," his voice seemed annoyed.
"Why?"
"Supposedly he was shot by blacks, but I think there is something deeper going on."
"Probably. Are you staying at the hospital?"
"Fuck no," his tone was sharp.
"Okay," she said, passively.
He hangs up on her. Veronica felt like he was mad at her, but she also know that he was under a lot of stress with the Cartel and the Ricky situation so she understood that he could just be taking it out on her.
She plugs her phone back into the charger and rests her head back on the pillow.
Veronica wanted to fall back asleep, but instead she found herself listening for her old man.
Eventually, she heard the front door open and close then his nearing footsteps. She knew it was him even before he came into his room. There was something about the way his feet hit the ground, something unique to him. Or perhaps, she was just hypersensitive to anything relating to him which was quite possible.
She watched his dark figure slip into the bathroom and shut the door behind him before turning the light on.
The shower started going. Veronica was surprised when she got to her feet and went into the bathroom.
She was so tired, but she slipped in with him.
"Hi, baby," he spoke, sounding tired, "I'm sorry if I snapped at you earlier...I didn't mean--"
Veronica didn't let him finish, instead she kissed him, long and slow, but he didn't want that.
He showed her against the tile wall, his mouth moving faster. His hand tracing her upper body.
He wasn't real rough, but he was being rougher than normal...and she liked it.

Veronica woke up and Juice was gone, but left a note:
"Rick is still MIA. Call you later."
She rolled out of bed and freshened up before heading to the county police department.
"Where is Ricky Ortiz?" Veronica demanded of the receptionist.
"Ma'am, please settle down."
"Where is he?"
"Sit down, ma'am. We'll figure things out."
"I want to talk to Roosevelt."
"He isn't here right now. Why don't you come back later."
"I'm not leaving until I talk to him," she gives her a hard look, but sits and waits.
She sits there for hours, not knowing that Rick was in a private holding cell in the back.
                                ...
Rick was watching some stupid television show when Roosevelt walked into the cell.
He quickly shut it off, looking Roosevelt in the face. He seemed somber.
"Shit. How many did they arrest?"
"None. It didn't happen. RICO's gone away for now. They'll be cutting you loose."
"What the hell does that mean?" Rick asks, skeptically.
"It means the U.S. Attorney doesn't have any leverage on you. The Intel on you daddy's been purged," Roosevelt opens a red folder with a picture of his father, the same one from when all this shit started to go down and tossed the folder on the bed he was sitting on, "that is the only proof. Thought I'd give you the satisfaction of tearing it up."
Roosevelt turned to go and Rick's voice carried, stopping him in his tracks, "why are you doing this?"
Roosevelt turns, "You're a criminal. You do bad shit. I'm a cop, I stop you. I just wanna get back to that."
"Yeah, okay," he says, realizing that he wasn't the only one in a tough situation, Roosevelt had his ethics compromised and Juice had risked his brotherhood.
Roosevelt left, he appeared in the lobby, seeing Veronica.
"Veronica," he regarded her steadily.
"Where is Rick?"
"Why do you assume he is here?"
"He gets mixed up in things. Of course, I assume he's here."
"He's being released in the next twenty-four hours."
"No, you can do better than that. You know the club has been looking for him."
"Fine, tonight."
"No."
"Veronica--"
"Haven't you done enough? Stop torturing the kid. Let him come home," she said, bitterly and she could see on his face that he realized that she knew about Rick becoming a rat. And WHO had brought him to that.
"I'll do the paperwork now. It'll take about twenty minutes then I'll release him," he told her, sympathetically before going to his office.
Roosevelt had kept his word. When the twenty minutes were up, Rick came out. He was wearing a black hoodie, his hood up, and he was concealing something inside the jacket.
"Let's go," she said, linking her arm with his.

Rick had excused himself to wash up before Juice got back with Mexican food.
He took the folder and opened it. He set aside the picture of his dad before ripping the folder in half.
He heard the front door open and close.
He shoved the picture into his pocket before walking out.
"Can you shred this, V?" He asks.
Juice's eyes travel to the folder as he sets down the food.
"Burn it," Juice says as Veronica takes the folder from Rick.
Nobody says anything for a few minutes.
"We have to be back at the clubhouse in an hour," Juice tells Rick.
"Let's eat then," Rick says, finally starting to feel a little normal.
They ate quickly and ran out before saying goodbye to Veronica.
When they got to the clubhouse, several of the guys we're hanging out by the bar.
Rick and Juice joined them, opening beers.
There was talking and some laughter, but all fell silent as Jax walked in.
He stood in Chapel and hesitated at the head of the table before taking a seat.
Rick and Juice watched as Tig and Chibs approach Jax.
Tig went to take a seat in his normal spot, but Jax stopped him.
Chibs and Tig switched then it was Happy.
Juice had closed the door behind him.
"Are you all straightened out, Rick?"
"Yeah. I'm good."
"Okay.
Rick sat in his usual seat with Rick beside him.
"Ope coming?" Chibs asks.
"What time is it?"
"Eight oh three," Hap tells him.
Jax slams the gavel and the door opens, revealing Tara.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"It's okay," he waved her in.
She went to him, kneeling before him.
Juice tried not to look because it seemed like a private moment with their foreheads pressed together.
Juice didn't understand what was conspiring, but now Tara stood protectively over her old man, staring down Gemma who had appeared.