Hands All Over

Ch. 66 Damaged

Juice watched as Angela got dressed in her usual work clothes: black slacks and a blouse with a cami underneath. She was all in black today, save for the royal blue cami that barely showed; a tribute to the club's colors. Her shoulders sagged as she sat down heavily on the bed, leaning over to tie on her black work boots. "You gonna be okay?" he asked, reaching out a hand to touch her back.

"Yeah," she replied curtly. She'd visibly tensed at his touch, practically jumping to her feet to get away from it. Standing at their bureau, she stared down at her hands instead of at his face. It hurt just to look at him. The Claddagh ring he'd given her glinted at her mockingly in the early morning light. Just a few days ago she'd decided the symbolism of the ring was perfect for their relationship: friendship, loyalty, and love. Now, that view was tarnished. After what she'd seen at Diosa, she questioned his loyalty to her, his love. She still couldn't believe it. Closing her eyes, she started twisting the ring off. Just looking at it and thinking of all that had been damaged made her sick to her stomach.

Setting it delicately on the dresser, she caught Juice's wounded look in the mirror. Good, she thought, he should be hurting. She sure as hell was. She weaved her hair into its usual braid, easily tying it off before sucking in a deep breath. "Okay," she said to herself. "I got this."

Juice knew she was trying to give herself confidence, but he didn't hear it in her voice. The pain in he could hear worried him. He didn't want her to have to prepare Opie without some kind of support. "You want me to..."

"Hap'll be there," she replied, cutting him off. The last thing she wanted was to spend more time in an enclosed room with him. She needed time away from him to sort through her thoughts, figure out where they were headed. At least Happy would stay quiet.

Taking in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and headed for the door. His hand shot out as she passed, grabbing her wrist gently to stop her. He looked up at her from his seat at the edge of their bed, searching her face for some hint as to what she was feeling. She'd let him hold her the night before as they both cried. Had put aside her own feelings to tend to his. He didn't know how she found the strength to look past his mistake and comfort him, but she had and he was grateful for it. That woman who had been his rock the night before was gone now. She was replaced with a harder looking one, that familiar, almost dangerous black look was in her eyes as they met his. "Angel..." he started, keeping hold of her wrist knowing that if he let her go, she'd leave.

"I need to go," she said trying to pull her wrist away, but he held strong for a second longer.

"Okay," he said, releasing his grip and standing up. "I'll see you later?"

She shrugged a shoulder, her eyes focused on the door. "I'll be around," she said, moving towards the exit.

He grabbed her wrist again, pulling her into him. "Angel..."

"I need to go, Juice," she repeated, her voice wavering.

"Just...just give me something. Tell me we're going to be okay."

She swallowed hard before shaking her head. "I can't right now," she said, softly. "I have to go prep Ope."

He nodded slowly, feeling a lump rise in his throat. "Okay," he said, his voice rough. He leaned down to kiss her lips, but she turned away so his kiss landed on her cheek instead. The move was like a dagger to his heart. Pulling her hand from his, she quickly made her way out, taking Rigor with her.

Juice heard the front door shut and sat down on the bed again, letting his head fall into his hands. He'd royally fucked up, and he was scared as hell that he wouldn't be able to fix it.