Juice looked out over the sleeping town of Charming from his seat at the edge of their mountain. Angela was sitting between his legs wearing his black hoodie, her back leaning against his chest while his chin rested on her shoulder. On the ride back home, he'd been going over and over what had happened with the Russians. The weight of his first kill fell heavy on his shoulders. He'd pulled off as soon as he saw the turn to their spot, needing a moment to clear his head.
He'd never killed anyone like he'd killed that Russian. He winced as the image flashed before his eyes again; he could still see the man's body jerk back as he shot him, the pattern of blood spattered on the fabric rolls behind them. He'd only gotten a few shots off before he lowered his gun, all aimed at one man.
Angela waited patiently for him to speak. Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and she was fighting like hell to stay awake. Leaning back against him, she turned her head to press a kiss to his cheek, a silent reminder she was still there.
Her soft kiss pulled him from his thoughts. He sighed lengthily, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder. "I did something bad tonight, Angel," he stated softly. "And this time...this time I meant to do it."
Her thoughts went back to the first night they sat there, the night after Donna died. It'd been the beginning of their relationship, and they were just starting to get to now each other. She knew him better now, knew he was faraway in his thoughts now, most likely running through what-if's like he usually did when stuff like this happened. He didn't need an answer, he needed to get this off of his chest and fast. Instead of replying, she set a hand on his, giving it a simple squeeze to urge him on.
"I shot a guy today, Angel. Him and his crew...they weren't even expecting it. One minute we're doing business, the next we shot 'em up. They didn't stand a chance," he explained as he shook his head. "That shit ain't right. Those guys could've had families. They coulda had kids and I..."
This time, she did speak up because if he went down that route, he'd drown himself in his own guilt. "Don't do that, Juice. You're torturing yourself over things you can't possibly know," she interrupted, squeezing his hand again.
She felt his Adam's apple bob against her shoulder as he swallowed hard. His voice was rough with grief as he continued, "They didn't have to die, Angel. I can't...I can't justify this shit. I understood the retaliation for Jax but...I just can't..." he was trying his best to explain what he was feeling without giving away too much. The reason they'd killed Putlova was for retaliation, the reason they killed the rest of the Russians was because of their own greed; they no longer wanted to share the gun trade.
She slowly sat up, tucking her legs underneath her as she turned to face him. "There is a reason for this, Juice. You may not be able to see it now, but...there's gotta be some reason why Clay wanted this to happen. He wouldn't put this on you if he didn't have a good reason, right?"
"Right," he answered, nodding a bit. The weight still remained on his shoulders. He'd killed someone. Someone who's name he didn't even know. His stomach churned at the thought. He was a monster.
"Hey," she said, taking his face into her hands and lifting it so their eyes could meet. "You are a good man, Juice. A good, smart, loyal, amazing guy with a great heart. What you did, it doesn't change that."
She said the words with such conviction; he was starting to believe her. Without another word, he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer and laying his head down on her chest. He let out a relieved sigh as he listened to the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat. Though he still felt guilty about the kill, confiding in her, listening to her comforting words had lessened the incredible weight that had been on his shoulders. He pulled away, meeting her eyes once again. "How do you do it?" he asked, a confused look on his face.
"What?"
"Know what to say," he clarified, tugging down the zipper of her hoodie and sliding his arms around her waist, his skin sliding against the soft lace of her dress. "Every time."
She gave him a warm smile, resting a hand on his cheek, one thumb trailing over his cheek. "I just tell you what I see."
"You really think all that of me, Angel?"
"I wouldn't have waited fourteen months for you if I didn't," she said, raking her fingers through his hair.
He closed his eyes, relaxing at the feel of her short nails raking across his scalp. "Mmm," he hummed, trying to pull her in closer. She shifted, unfolding her legs and putting one on either side of his hips. A light laugh escaped her lips as he nuzzled his nose against the skin of her chest, moving away the thick fabric of the hoodie before laying his head down, his ear just over her heart.
"Comfy?" she asked, smiling when he nodded.
"Best pillow ever," he said, turning his head to dot kisses across her chest. Angela gasped as he nipped at her skin. His lips trailed up her neck and across her jaw, his scruff scraping against her soft skin as he went. Then his lips found hers, soft and gentle as he kissed them before he place more tender kisses across her cheek. "You're my best friend, Angel," he whispered, his lips moving against her skin and sending shivers down her spine.
"You say that all the time," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Juice smiled, pressing his forehead to hers. "I mean it."
A small smile crossed her face as she kissed him once more before pulling away just a little, leaving just a few centimeters between them. "You're my best friend too. And I missed you so much."
"Yeah?" he asked, kissing her quickly.
She nodded, brushing the backs of her fingers over his cheeks. "How bout you take me home and I'll show you?"
He grinned in response, squeezing her ass. "Yes ma'am."
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Angela couldn't explain the feeling she got when she woke up in Juice's arms for the first time in fourteen months. She smiled at his snoring as she nuzzled her nose against his warm chest. His mouth was open, which accounted for the snoring, a bit of drool hanging out of the corner of his lips and falling on the pillow beneath him. He wasn't the most attractive sleeper, she thought as she bit back a laugh, but the sight of him lying there -safe and sound-was a welcome one, one she'd sorely missed.
She carefully maneuvered away from him and out of bed. Stretching her arms over her head, she groaned as the movement pulled at muscles that were still sore from the night before. She picked up his hoodie from the ground, slipping it on over her shoulders and zipping it up before putting on a pair of lacy booty shorts just in case one of his brothers stopped by for a surprise visit. Padding her way into the kitchen, she hit play on her iPod and got to work on breakfast.
The smell of bacon woke Juice up from his sleep. Groaning, he reached out an arm for Angela but found the side of her bed was cold. It made sense; someone had to make the bacon. He threw his legs out of bed, picking up his boxers from the ground and slipping them on.
He chuckled as he saw her dress tossed over her bedside lamp, memories of the night before filling his head. He'd struggled pulling the dress off of her and though the moment had put a screeching halt to their love making, it ended up with both of them laughing, sharing kisses in between. To be honest, he loved those moments. The spontaneous laughs and teasing that made their relationship fun and easy.
He took his time while he made the bed, wondering if Angela had ever done it when he was inside. It was the one thing he always did because he liked having a made bed to get into at the end of the day while she didn't really care one way or the other. Grabbing the dress off the lampshade, he laid it out neatly on the bedspread before heading to the kitchen.
As soon as he got into the hallway, he could hear her softly singing along with a slower Bon Jovi song and grinned. When he was close enough, he tugged down the hood of the sweatshirt she was wearing. "Whatcha cookin', my little Jawa?" he asked, moving to stand with his back against the counter so he was facing her.
Angela laughed at the Star Wars reference, leaning over to press her lips to his in a quick kiss. "Breakfast," she said, making up a plate of bacon and eggs with enough for both of them to share then handing it over him along with a large glass of orange juice.
He headed to the couch, setting the glass on the light stand and the plate on his lap as he kicked his feet onto the coffee table. She sat down next to him, leaning against his side, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand. "Mmm," he said around a bite of bacon. "Much better than the shit we got inside."
"Why am I not surprised?" she asked, stealing a piece off the plate and munching on it pensively. She never really ate much for breakfast and hadn't had bacon since Juice went inside. Her usual breakfast consisted of huge mug of coffee and whatever quick thing she could pop into the toaster. But she knew Juice loved breakfast, especially bacon, so she made an effort to cook for him.
He took a long sip of his orange juice, making a satisfied sound as he set the glass back down. "I missed this," he said on a happy sigh. "Inside, I'd wake up in freezin', your cousin kickin' my bunk, and we'd get this ugly lookin' breakfast that was usually cold by the time we sat down. It was fuckin' awful."
"So basically you're saying you missed having me as your blanket, alarm clock, and cook," Angela teased, grinning up at him.
Juice considered her question for a second before nodding. "Pretty much."
She laughed, knowing he was only kidding. He'd not only told her but showed her over and over again just how much he missed her. All of her. "Goof," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Don't act like you didn't miss having me as your soothing sleep soundtrack and sex slave, Angel," he teased, reaching over her to grab the remote.
Her fingers slowly dragged over the outline of his abs, a triumphant smirk turning up the corners of her lips when she saw him swallow hard, his eyes darkening with lust. "You caught me. How'd you figure it out?" she asked sarcastically.
Juice shook his head at her about to tease right back until he saw the news headline flash across the screen. Russians found dead in Charming. He blinked at the lettering as the feeling of guilt came over him. "Shit," he said under his breath, his whole body tensing up as he watched the coroner's loading the bodies up into their van.
Angela sat up a little straighter, her dark eyes focused on him instead of the television screen. One of those Russians had to be the man he'd told her about the night before. It was the only explanation for his reaction, for the way his whole body went rigid as he watched the images on the screen. "Juice," she said, trying to catch his attention. She turned off the TV, but he still stared at the blank screen, no doubt replaying it in his mind. "Hey! Juice!" she shouted, sitting up so her head was level with his.
This time he looked at her, and she felt her heart sink at the worry she found in his eyes, worry and fear. She knew where the fear came from. Besides being his first kill, those Russians had also been the first time he'd violated his parole. If he was caught, he'd be sent back inside. This time for life. His long stretch in San Joa had changed him, broken his spirit just a little. He tried his best to hide it, but she'd noticed. He didn't smile half as much as he used to. If he went inside again, she knew she'd lose that smile completely. "No one knows it was you," she assured him softly. "You guys are too smart for that."
"Yeah but what if..."
"Stop," she said, pressing a finger to his lips. Her eyes met his and she sucked in a deep breath. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that? The 'what-ifs' will kill you."
His shoulders relaxed slightly as he sighed. She was right. "Its just...I've never done this before."
"Yeah, but Hap has. He was with you, right?"
Juice nodded slowly. "Yeah," he answered, remembering how the Tacoma killer had ended up shooting the last Russian left standing with one well aimed shot to the head. Watching Happy land his mark so easily brought back memories of the times he and Angela had gone shooting. Her aim wasn't as spot-on, but it wasn't terrible either; apparently, Happy was good at teaching.
"You think he'd make a mistake?" she asked, her question bringing him back to the conversation at hand.
He shook his head before catching her lips in a quick kiss. "He's not untouchable, Ang."
She rolled her eyes, getting up from her seat on the couch to refill her empty coffee mug. People had been telling her that for years, and she never really bought into the idea. She didn't have any proof telling her differently. "You'd be surprised by the shit he's gotten away with," she commented on her way to the kitchen.
He chuckled, finishing off his breakfast and setting the plate aside as he relaxed again. She was right. Though Happy had just spent a long time in jail, it wasn't because of one of his kills. The club's assassin had murdered at least eleven people and had yet to be caught; Juice doubted this time would be any different.
He ran a hand through his hair, pulling a face at how weird it felt with all that gel in it. He knew it bothered Angela, though she'd never admit it; he'd seen the small wrinkle in her nose when she wiped her hands on her clothes after touching his hair. "Hey Angel!" he called, looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen.
"Hmm?" she replied, appearing with another steaming mug of coffee.
"You like my hair like this?" he asked, pointing to his full head of hair.
She set her mug aside, gently raking her fingers through his dark hair. "Not particularly," she answered honestly, laughing when the hair stuck up awkwardly. "I mean, it's...well, you look like a 70's porn star."
He raised his eyebrows, confused by her description. "That's bad, right?"
"It's not fantastic," she answered on a small smile. "My mother thought you looked very handsome, though."
"Huh," he said pensively. With everything that had happened, it'd slipped his mind that he'd actually met her mother and that it hadn't gone that badly. Of course, Graciela hadn't known about their relationship, but at least it's was a step in the right direction. "What do you think?"
She leaned forward to press her lips to his. "I've always thought you were handsome regardless of hairstyle."
He grinned cockily at her, happy for the small ego boost. "Good looks aside...what do I do with it? I mean, putting gel in it every day is a pain in the ass."
"Juice, if it bothers you, just shave it off," she said on a laugh.
Juice nodded slowly. All that hair did make his head a lot hotter, and it did take a lot more effort than his usual hairstyle. At least with the Mowhawk, he could get away with not shaving it every single day. With the longer hair, he had to make sure to style it or it just ended up a big mess. "Will you do it?" he asked, standing up from the couch.
"You want me to shave it?" she questioned in disbelief as he pulled her towards their bathroom. It was a task he'd never trusted her with before.
He nodded, pulling open the drawer and handing over the clippers. "Yeah."
"You sure?" she asked, watching as he plugged them in before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his shoulders. This was a big deal. Juice was more OCD about his hair than he was about anything else. He shaved it daily so that it was perfect; both sides lined up evenly and tapering into a perfect point at the nape of his neck. If she did it wrong, it'd be awhile before he could fix it.
"I trust you," he said on a nod, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
Angela sucked in a deep breath as she looked down at his head, mentally mapping out her plan of action. She let out the breath as she started the clippers. "Let's hope I don't screw this up."
"You'll be fine," he said, watching as she got to work. He loved the intensity of her dark eyes as she focused on her task, the way she tilted her head, this way and that, fingernails scraping over his scalp as she tested the length.
He noticed her smile when the hair on the sides finally got short enough for her to see his tattoos and knew then he'd made the right choice in going back to his old hairstyle. "Found the tats?"
She smiled back at him, nodding slowly. "Yep," she said tracing over one. "Still here."
"Glad your old lady didn't see 'em. I don't think she'd be callin' me handsome if she saw did. She'd probably chase me out with a broom."
Angela laughed at that image. "She liked you," she said with a small smile. "Asked if you were single."
Juice grinned, watching her start to even out the top part of his mowhawk. "She wasn't as scary as I thought she'd be."
"She didn't know we were together," she pointed out. If her mother had known, she would've showered Juice with veiled questions that would hint at things like marriage and babies; things that were sure to have him running for the hills.
"Right," he said on a sigh. "My mom knows about us."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise; he'd never mentioned his mother. "Your mom?"
"Yeah. Lives in Queens," he replied, shrugging a shoulder. He and his mother talked about once a month, sometimes on the phone, once or twice via video chat when she wasn't high as a kite off prescription pills. "Last time we talked she was actually sober. Said she wanted to meet ya. I offered to fly her out but...she's afraid ta fly."
"I'd like to meet her too," she said, the corner of her lips turning up into a smirk. "We could go there, y'know."
"No, we can't," he said definitively, his dark eyes looking sad for a brief moment. He could see the question in her eyes and sighed. "Got in trouble with the mob for some hacking when I was young. Moved out here to get away from it. Haven't seen Ma since."
Angela sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of his newly shaven mowhawk. "I'm sure she understands."
He shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah. Doesn't really matter. She too busy chasing her scripts. Last time it was oxy. Dunno what she's into now," he explained before shrugging. "Anyways...you done?"
She did her best not to think too much about the new information he'd divulged. The amount of times he mentioned her being high and the sad look in his eyes made Angela think it was something his mom had been struggling with for quite a while. She wondered if it was something he'd had to deal with his whole life. As much as she wanted to ask, she bit her tongue; now wasn't a good time to delve into his past. Not after what went down with the Russians. She brushed some of the remaining hair off his shoulders, checking out the sides one more time before nodding. "Yep!" she exclaimed, using the towel around his shoulders to wipe of the sides. "Check it out. What do you think?"
Juice slid his fingers back and forth over the patch of hair going down his head, turning slightly to admire the point in the back. It was different than he usually did it, but he almost liked it better that way. "Looks good," he said giving her a big, proud smile as she carefully took the towel off his shoulders and shook the hair into the trashcan. "Knew you could do it."
"Now you just have to shave off that 'stache and the scruff and you'll be back to normal," she teased, rubbing her fingers over the scruff along his jaw.
"C'mon, Angel," he said, a smooth smile on his lips. "You know you like it."
She shrugged a shoulder. Though the beard burn was a little annoying, she had to admit she liked the way it felt against her soft skin when he kissed her; the roughness of his beard combined with the softness of his lips made her feel hot all over. She smirked up at him. "I think I need to test it out a few more times, just to make sure."
He gave her one of his naughty grins, his eyes darkening with lust as he grabbed her around the waist. "I can handle that," he said before his lips came crashing down on her own.
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Angela knocked on Tara's office door, opening up the door and peeking into the large room. She smiled when she found Tara burping Thomas. "Hey Angie," the doctor greeted, rubbing her hand up and down her son's back. "You can come in."
"How's it going, T?" she asked, saying a quick 'hello' to Thomas before taking a seat on the couch. "You look a little...stressed."
Tara looked her over. The undertaker was wearing her more casual work clothes; a simple white button down and black slacks with her heavy work boots. Her dark hair was tied back in its usual braid, a steaming cup of hot coffee in her hand. "Yeah, well..." Tara trailed off, wondering how much she should tell Angela about what had happened that day. "I found Gemma in here with the door locked."
"So? You said it yourself, the door locks by itself all the time."
She shook her head. "I lied that time. I didn't want her to get suspicious," she said frowning slightly as she handed Thomas to Angela. "The door's lock is fine which means she locked it."
Angela grinned at the baby boy as she bounced him in her arms. "And that stresses you out because..."
Tara walked behind the desk, opening up the locked drawer with a key from her key ring. She pulled out a brown accordion folder and tossed it onto the desk. "I have the letters here."
Angela sat Thomas in her lap, reaching over and grabbing one of his toys with a grunt and handing it to him. "You think she found them? How would she even know they existed?"she asked as Thomas' little fingers reached up for her mouth.
"I don't know," she answered, slowly opening the folder. She carefully pulled out the letters, trying her best to remember if she'd had them in any order. Then she saw it. The accident report was in the middle of the stack instead of in the separate slot where she'd catalogued it. "Shit."
"What?" she asked, playfully mouthing the baby's fingers and making him giggle.
"You remember when I last took these out? I had put the accident report in a different slot, right?"
Angela shrugged a shoulder. "I don't remember," she answered honestly, wincing as Thomas tugged on her braid. "Kind of been busy with other things."
"I swear I did because you teased me about organizing them. You said I should catalog them from most scandalous to least and then sell film rights to the most scandalous ones."
"Oh yeah," she said, laughing at her own joke. "So?"
"I haven't looked at them since then," Tara explained, her voice a bit panicked.
"So?" Angela repeated, not following her train of thought.
"The accident report is in the middle of all the letters, Ang," she said, showing her friend the pile. "Which means..."
"Gemma found them," Angela finished off. "Is that such a bad thing though?"
Tara nodded, swallowing hard as she thought of all the information written in those letters. "Do you have any idea how dangerous these letters are? What they have in them?"
She shook her head in response. "No, and I don't want to know. This is your deal, your family. I'm sorry, Tara. I'll be your friend all you want, but I want to stay far away from all this club stuff."
The doctor looked at Angela and frowned, she couldn't blame her for wanting to be out of the loop on this one; she wished she had never read those letters. "That's fair," she said on a sigh. "I just...what would you do?"
"If Juice had a crazy mother who was digging through all my stuff?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as she contemplated it. "It'd more likely be my mother doing the digging..."
"That's not helpful."
"Okay, okay, sorry," Angela said before breathing in deeply. She tried to think of what Happy would do. "Okay. I got it. I'd copy the letters. Stash 'em somewhere just in case the originals got destroyed. That way if you ever want to show them to Jax, you still have them safe and sound."
Tara nodded. "Would you be willing to hold on to a copy?"
She grimaced in response, instantly regretting telling Tara her idea. "Maybe you should give it to someone who's outside the club. If I keep them at my place, Juice might find 'em. Then you'd be even more screwed."
"Right," she agreed on a breath. "What about Margaret?"
"Can you trust her?" she asked, gently setting Thomas back in his stroller.
Tara nodded again. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, she was with us through that whole Salazar thing and she cooperated when we helped Gemma escape."
"That is true," Angela said on a nod. "Not to mention she's totally separated from the club. I think she's your best bet."
She paused as she mulled over the idea before a thought struck her. "You didn't tell Gemma about the letters...did you?"
The undertaker held up her hands in a slowdown motion. "T, I already told you, I don't want anything to do with those damn letters. I got my own problems, thank you very much."
"What are those? Too much sex?"
Angela laughed, flipping off her friend as she grabbed her coffee again. "Your phone's vibrating," she pointed out instead of answering that question. She finished off what was left of her drink while Tara was on the phone. She tuned out most of the conversation out of respect, though she'd caught on quick that it was Gemma on the other line.
The doctor hung up the phone with a snap, her green eyes wide with fear. "Jax is in trouble," she breathed.
"Go," Angela said, tossing her cup in the trash. "I'll get Thomas."
Tara sprung into action, pulling out her change of clothes. She gave Thomas a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom to change. "Take him home. Elyda's there with Abel," she called through the door.
"Got it!" she shouted back, wheeling the stroller out while cooing to Thomas. "Let's get you home safe, baby boy."
Angela drove into the TM parking lot to find everyone milling outside waiting for something. She raised an eyebrow as she closed her car door behind her, hitching up her black slacks before heading towards where Lyla was sitting at the picnic table, her perfectly manicured nails beating a nervous beat on the wood. "Hey Ly," she greeted, taking a seat next to her. "Everything all right?"
"I don't know," Lyla said softly. "They won't tell me anything. Just said Ope and Jax were in trouble, but Clay was handlin' it."
Angela nodded in response. "Hell of a honeymoon," she commented, glancing at the new gold band on Lyla's finger.
"No kidding. It's my fault though, I couldn't get off work."
"Bummer."
Lyla sighed as she nodded. "What are you doing here? Is Juice in trouble too?"
She shook her head. "Not that I know of. I was droppin' off Thomas with Elyda when Gemma called and said I should come down."
"Hmm," the blonde hummed pensively. She glanced around at the amount of Croweaters that were standing outside the clubhouse, all anxiously awaiting the arrival of the boys. "You think it's to keep them away?"
Angela smirked, her eyes following Lyla's gaze. The sweetbutts were all volleying for good positions, creeping forward as the soon as they heard the motorcycles in the distance, ready to pounce. "Probably. There's some new ones, huh?"
"Mm-hmm. Fresh meat," Lyla said looking at one young one in particular. "I don't know where they all come from."
"Broken homes and broken dreams," she replied on a sad smile. The roar of the motorcycles grew louder as the boys rounded the corner. "Here they come."
Lyla was up and sprinting towards the tow truck in seconds while Angela took her time, watching as one of the newer Croweaters headed towards Juice who was talking to Phil. She smiled as she watched the little blonde try to shove her way into the conversation. Angela wasn't at all angry at the sweetbutt; the girl didn't know any better and Juice wasn't paying attention to her anyway. Had it been one of the older Croweaters, she might've been a little more peeved, they new better. This little high school drop out, didn't.
Juice ignored the sweetbutt who was currently vying for his attention as he looked around the parking lot. He spotted the familiar Mazda and grinned; she was there. He found her leaning against the side of the clubhouse just a few feet away, a small smile on her face. Stepping around the petite blonde, he headed towards her. "Hey baby," he greeted, a bright smile on his face. He didn't question her presence there, figuring it probably had something to do with Gemma. The Queen always liked to gather all the women to greet them when they got home from different things. This time seemed to be no different.
"You okay?" she asked, her dark eyes meeting his, worry crossing her pretty features.
He nodded, dipping his head to catch her lips in a quick kiss. "Totally fine," he said, brushing a stray hair from her face before stepping away. "You see the clubhouse yet?" he asked, waiting for her to follow him.
She shook her head. "Nope. I just got here like five minutes before you guys. Why? What happened?" she asked, smiling at Chibs as he held the door open for them.
"See for yourself," Juice answered, gently pushing her forward with a hand on her lower back.
Her eyes widened as she stepped inside. It looked like a tornado had swept through the clubhouse leaving behind broken furniture and knocking down all the mug shots. Plaques hung crookedly on the walls and the doors to the chapel looked as though someone had chewed through them. "Shit," she whispered, toeing at a piece of debris as she headed back behind the bar with Juice.
The air was thick with tension as they all took in the damage. It would take weeks to clean up the clubhouse, months to restore all the fixtures and patch the walls.
"I have some good news," Tara stated breaking the silence, digging in her pocket for a moment before putting on a ring and holding up her hand. "We're engaged!"
The room erupted into cheers and applause as everyone congratulated the new couple. Booze started flowing freely, everyone picking their own poison. Angela grinned as Piney slid her a shot glass filled with tequila. She held it up, catching Tara's eyes and giving her friend a smile before tossing it back. She grimaced as the tequila burned its way down her throat before settling in her stomach.
Looking back at the shot glass, she found it to be refilled. She raised an eyebrow at Piney who smirked at her in response. "There was a little extra," he explained, lifting the glass beer stein filled with tequila.
Angela picked the shot up and clinked it against Piney's stein. "Waste not," she said taking the shot quickly.
"Atta girl," he said, patting her shoulder.
Juice watched his girl as she talked to Piney, her hands waving wildly about as they chatted. She looked beautiful with her dark eyes glittering with excitement, a bright smile on her face. He thought about the past couple of days. From Ope's wedding to Jax's engagement, it seemed as though all of his brothers with steady girls were settling down. He wondered if that was something he should be considering with Angela; if it was something he wanted.
Hell, he wasn't sure if it was something she wanted. The girl was like a steel vault when it came to talking about her feelings. Not that he was any better. It was like they both had a mutual agreement to not talk about them. And then there were those three little words that loomed over their heads. He knew he loved her, knew she loved him, yet they both were reluctant to admit it. He didn't know what made him hesitate in telling her, but every time he was about to, something stopped him.
Chibs clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him from his study. "Saw the ring you gave 'er," he stated, smirking at Juice's surprised look. "Claddagh's a strong symbol, y'know. Means friendship, loyalty...love."
"Yeah, Kerri told me," Juice said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the way his brother said the last word.
"Ye need to tell her, Juicy-boy," he advised softly. " 'fore it's too late."
Juice looked back over to where Angela was now talking to Tara, their eyes meeting over the doctor's shoulder. She smiled at him, one of those genuine smiles that went all the way to her eyes and made his heart skip a beat. She winked at him as she hugged Tara and then headed down the hallway towards the dorm rooms.
His eyes followed the swing of her hips, distracting him from whatever Chibs was saying. He patted a hand on Chibs' shoulder. "Whatever you say, brotha," he said before following after her. He might be oblivious to most things, but he knew exactly what that wink had meant.
As soon as he was out of sight of the club, he jogged after her down the hallway, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest as his back hit the door. His lips crashed down on hers as she leaned into him, his hands sliding down her body to her ass.
And then the door opened, making him fall backwards. He landed on his back with a thunk, Angela held tightly against his chest to keep her from falling. "Ow," he groaned, his eyes closed tight in pain.
He could feel her shaking with laughter against him, obviously trying to hold it in. "Are you okay, goof?" she asked, her dark eyes only slightly worried. It was only after he nodded that she started to laugh. Her laughter was infectious and soon he was laughing along with her, stopping only to press a kiss to her lips.
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Gemma raised an eyebrow when she saw the two pairs of legs sticking out of the doorway of one of the dorm rooms. She could hear laughter, cut off only by the smacking sounds that went along with kissing. She walked towards it, rolling her eyes when she realized who it was.
Angela was lying on top of Juice, one of his arms draped over her lower back as they laughed together. Gemma couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like that with Clay. Totally free, not a care in the world, so wrapped up in each other nothing else mattered. She knew Angela and Juice's relationship was more innocent than those the other men in the club had with their Old Ladies. It wasn't tainted by cheating or abuse. Not yet anyway. They were still in that easy stage before the kids, before the other women, before the drama...Gemma missed those days sometimes. It was all so much easier back then. She cleared her throat, tapping her foot to catch their attention. "You two almost done? We need some help cleanin' up."
The undertaker looked up at her, a blush darkening her cheeks as she scrambled to get to her feet. Juice remained where he was, a wide grin on his face; he'd been caught in worse positions. "Hey Gemma," he greeted, taking the hand Angela had extended to him and letting her help him to his feet. "Sorry, got distracted. I didn't know the door was open and we fell..."
Angela noticed the Queen's uninterested look and started to push him down the hall. "I don't think she cares, Juice."
"Smarter than ya look," Gemma commented, her arms crossed over her chest. When they made no move to go, she waved her hand down the hall. "Go 'head."
She watched them make their way down the hall, playfully arguing in hushed voices as Angela reprimanded him for not wanting to go help earlier while he contested cleaning was what prospects and Croweaters were for. Angela stuck her tongue out at him before Juice reached down a hand to grab her ass. Gemma rolled her eyes at their childish antics, shaking her head as she murmured, "Dumb kids."