#Scorned

[tumbleweed-writes]

Scorned: Chibs Telford X Reader. Chapter Seven

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE

Chapter Seven: Concern and a Golden Opportunity

One major thing Y/N had been forced to learn when it came to dating the President of SAMCRO, was that plans were not always concrete, even dinner plans. The disappointment in response to a canceled dinner date was not quite as palatable as it should be. The concern she felt easily overpowered any sense of disappointment.

A sense of concern was all she could focus on as she found herself sitting up on her sofa with a hot cup of herbal tea in her hands.

The television was on, but her mind was not focused on the film she’d absentmindedly turned the channel to. Her mind was too focused on one person in particular.

It was late, far past midnight now, and her boyfriend was still out taking care of urgent club business assisting some brothers who had ridden in from the Reno, Nevada charter quite early this morning, right around sunrise.

She stared down at the cup of green tea in her hands, her mind a muddled mess as she recalled the phone conversations she’d had with her boyfriend earlier in the day.

Y/N had held the phone up to her ear, her stomach forming tight knots as she listened to Chibs Telford’s voice on the other end of the line. “We might have to take a rain check on dinner plans, Love. Some shite came up, Reno club rode in this morning and I’m needed here.”

She cringed the words escaping her lips before she could stop them. “I’m guessing this visit from Reno isn’t a social call?”

“Aye, not quite.” Chibs replied, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

She leaned back against the service counter in her antique shop, her eyes cutting across her salesfloor knowing that the store was dead. She was the only one here to witness this conversation. She was free to be blunt. “What’s going on, Filip? Do I need to be worried?”

She felt her stomach knot up all the tighter at the response she received. “Nah, no need to worry, Sweetheart. Reno jus’ needs SAMCRO’s assistance trackin down a missing brother. Dumb fuck disappeared with a big chunk of cash belonging to the club. His brothers aren’t too happy with him at the moment and they need SAMCRO’s help trackin him down. It’s jus club protocol, they’re in our town so we have to help out.”

Y/N felt bile rise in the back of her throat, a voice in the back of her head taunting her about just what the MC planned to do with this missing brother once they tracked him down. “What makes them think he’s around here? Wouldn’t hiding out so close to the mother charter be a dumb move?”

“Aye it is a dumb move, but so is stealin from yer brothers.” Chibs commented, Y/N rolling her eyes in response, she hated that he had a point.

Chibs spoke again, not shying away from giving her more details. “Reno’s club Pres thinks their missin brother has some ex-girlfriend out in Lodi. He mighta run to her, or at least she might have an idea of where he’s hiding.”

Y/N felt a slight weak smirk cross her lips, unable to stop herself from saying it. “Guess you better hope she’s one pissed off ex if she’s willing to give up where he is.”

“Aye, that’s what we're hopin fer. Don’t wait up fer me tonight, Love. Don’t know how late I’ll be comin to yer place.” was the reply she was given. She was unable to stop herself from speaking the anxiety evident in her voice.

“You promise you’ll be careful, Filip?”

He was so fast to speak up, reassuring her. “Aye, I’ll be jus fine, Love. Don’t ye worry bout me. I’ll be safe. I’m always safe m’love.”

He was quick to speak again clearly trying to get her mind off of worrying for his security “Ye should do somethin fun tonight. Go out with Venus and Brooke, have a girls night, aye. Our dinner plans’ll have to move to next weekend.” 

Y/N had tried to follow Chibs’ suggestion of having a fun night.

She had gone out with Venus and Brooke and gotten her nails done choosing a metallic silver that she had found pretty for her fingernails and a pale blue for her toenails. She’d gone out to dinner with the girls enjoying sugary cocktails and sushi.

She could not shake the sense of dread that had settled down into her gut though the emotion feeling like an unwelcome house guest.

Y/N could not shake the worry for the man she loved despite his reassurances that he would be safe.

She had to imagine that this Reno brother SAMCRO was helping to track down was desperate and afraid. Fear and desperation made people stupid. Stupid people were dangerous especially if they had nothing to lose.

Another emotion had joined along with the worry, the emotion feeling like another unwelcome guest. It was an emotion she had a difficult time explaining.

It felt like a sense of apprehension or fear. It was an unshakable sense of unease. 

If she was truly going to psychoanalyze herself she might conclude that perhaps she was having a difficult time coming to terms with the knowledge that the man she loved was most likely out doing something quite violent tonight.

She hated to admit that it was difficult to reconcile that the man she loved had a side to him that was capable of such brutality.

Chibs Telford had never lied to her about what he was capable of. At least she could say that when she’d worked up the nerve to ask more questions about SAMCRO that he’d never been dishonest about who and what he was. Chibs had been honest with her when it came to the cold hard truth about acts he had committed both for the cause in Belfast and the MC both in Ireland and in California.

He had told her that it was only fair that she understood the harsh reality of what he was. He had chosen this path for his life a long time ago and anyone who wanted to be by his side had to understand that there was no leaving this life for him. 

Chibs had told her that there were only two paths an ol lady could take when it came to the club.

One path would involve her knowing nothing. She could choose to be locked away from the truth of what acts her man might have to do for the club. She could live on the outside of the Club not having any questions answered. She would have to learn to accept white lies and keep content with not knowing the truth of the reality she lived in. 

The other path involved knowing everything. It was a path where there were no secrets; only the cold hard truth no matter how disturbing that truth might be. This path would not be an easy one. It would mean having to accept the horrors and heartaches of this life. This path would involve having the truth but knowing that this truth could feel awful at times.

Chibs had warned her that the path of knowing nothing usually was a recipe for disaster. Being kept in the dark about the club would more than likely just build up mistrust which would lead to resentment. Living a comforting lie was no way to build a lasting relationship. This path would mean that she would always have questions knowing she would never know the true answers. 

Chibs had been around long enough to see what happened to ol ladies who chose to remain in the dark about the club. Ol ladies who choose to stay on the outside, when it came to to club, usually always were left feeling distant from their partners. Eventually the burden of carrying the life and living a lie would break the Son. The distance between a Son and his ol lady created a sense of bitterness and the relationship crumbled.

Being kept in the dark when it came to the club was a sure fire way to have a relationship fail. 

Taking a path of total full disclosure might not be a pleasant path to take, but Chibs had told her that from what he’d seen, it was the only path he was willing to take with her.

He knew that ol ladies who knew the truth could crumble under that truth, but he was willing to fight as hard as he could to keep Y/N from breaking under his reality. 

Y/N had agreed to know everything no matter how horrible it might be. She had decided to ignore every reservation she had about just what Chibs Telford may have done in the past and what he might do in the future, and trust him.

She hated to admit that it felt difficult to wrap her brain around the knowledge that the man she loved so dearly was capable of terrible things.

When she thought of Chibs Telford her mind did not automatically turn to brutality.

She thought of the man who had spoken so sweetly and fondly of his daughter upon the first interaction Y/N had ever had with him.

She thought of Chibs Telford as being the man who had so carefully selected a pretty purple bracelet for his daughter. She thought of a wonderful man who had been such a doting loving father when Kerrianne had come to visit Charming months before. 

Y/N thought of the surprisingly romantic man who brought Y/N gorgeous orange marigolds because he remembered that they were her absolute favorite flower. She thought of how Chibs would never tell her exactly how he managed to get the flowers to her on his bike without them getting wrecked, only giving her a cheeky smile and insisting that it was his little secret.

She thought of the caring and sympathetic man who had so gently listened to her open up about her past with her ex husband and had so sweetly promised that she would never have a thing to fear again.

She thought of the thoughtful man who brought her cups of tea in the mornings. She thought of how Chibs so lovingly made her a rich mutton, carrot, and barley stew when she was feeling under the weather, insisting it was his mother’s own recipe and would cure any ailment. She thought of the man who drew her baths after she spent the day doing inventory in her shop.

She thought of how Chibs rolled the perfect joint and taught her to throw darts. She thought of the man who took her on long rides on his bike. She thought of the man who had kissed her so softly and gently after their first date. She thought of how Chibs had seemed almost shy the first time he’d asked her on a proper date that night on the roof of the clubhouse. She thought of the man who looked at her with such adoration and worship the very first time they’d made love.

She found it so strange to consider the man who she thought of with such adoration was capable of horrible acts.

The man who kissed her so sweetly was capable of causing harm if the need called for such acts. Intimidating and at times brutal President Filip Chibs Telford and her sweet and caring boyfriend Filip Chibs Telford were the same man.

It was not as though some dark spirit washed over Chibs when he committed horrible acts for the club. This was part of who he was. 

She knew deep down that Chibs Telford was capable of savage acts, just as he was capable of acts of love.

It was a harsh reality she knew she had to accept. Human beings were multifaceted. No one was 100 percent good nor bad. 

A tiny part of her had to contemplate if there was something deeply wrong with her to be so willing to love a man who was capable of horrible acts though.

A cruel voice in the back of her mind taunted her that her ex husband had truly done a number on her if she found love with a man who was willing to be King of the local outlaw bikers.

A softer gentler voice seemed to speak a little louder than that cruel voice though. This voice told her that while Chibs might not be innocent, that he loved her. In fact she was certain Chibs Telford loved her more than any man had ever loved her. There were times where she was almost certain that he loved her more than any man had loved a woman, though she told herself that the thought was probably egocentric and childish. 

This kinder voice also told her that she had not felt this happy in her entire life, at least not since she was quite young, back when her parents were still alive and the world still seemed so kind and trusting.

Life had shown her that the world was not kind, but Chibs Telford made her at least feel as though she had a chance at finding some joy in the cruel world.

She knew that the only way to possibly maintain her sanity was to be willing to choose love over fear when it came to living in Chibs’ world.

A sense of relief washed over her exhausted mind as she heard the distinct sound of a key turning in the lock of her front door. There were only two people who had spare keys to her apartment and Y/N highly doubted Venus Van Dam was letting herself into Y/N’s apartment this late unannounced.

The door creaked open, the man she’d been wide awake and lost in thought over entering the room.

His tired eyes gazed upon her a tight smile crossing his features that she noted did not quite reach his eyes. “M’love, ye didn’t have to wait up fer me. I told ye not to.”

“And you should know me well enough to know I don’t listen.” She managed to reply as she stood up from the sofa, hoping any strain was not evident in her voice.

She felt her stomach turn as she took notice of a bruise forming around his right eye, a sign of an impending black eye. She did not have time to question the injury as Chibs spoke up. “I’m sorry I left ye waitin up so late.”

“It’s fine, I can never sleep when you aren’t there.” She admitted biting back questions about the source of the blackened eye forming across his features. She had a feeling she’d know the full story at some point. There were no secrets between them. 

“Let me get cleaned up, love. Ye settle down in bed, aye.” He responded, pressing a quick peck to her temple as he passed by.

She poured her now cool tea down the kitchen sink before locking the front door and obediently making her way to her bedroom.

She did not find herself settling down entirely; she able to hear the shower in her small bathroom running the noise clear even down the hallway.

She laid back in bed, her mind too awake to truly settle into sleep.

Chibs’ shower did not last too long; it was clear he was eager to get to bed after the long day he’d had.

She watched as he entered her room, dumping his clothing and damp towel in the laundry basket before slipping on a fresh pair of boxers.

He settled down into bed beside her, the words she wanted to say all getting tangled up in her throat.

She took notice of his knuckles spotting signs of bruising the skin clearly cracked and scabbed over in a few places. She felt the words escape her lips as she reached out her hand brushing over his cringing at the slight hiss that left him. “Oh, Filip.”

“It looks worse than it is.” He attempted to reassure her.

“Hold on a moment.” She was fast to reply, getting up from bed before he had a chance to stop her.

She returned a few moments later with a tube of neosporin and an ice pack wrapped in a washcloth.

He sighed but did not protest as she treated the cuts with disinfectant ointment and pressed the ice pack to his knuckles knowing she would need to alternate it between his hands to keep the swelling down. 

She felt the words leave her knowing she was getting her full disclosure out of him. “What the hell happened?”

“Ran into a wee bit of trouble, nothin to worry over. We found the lad and he had a few friends to back him up but we managed. If ye think I look rough ye should see the other lads.” He attempted to soothe her a weak smile crossing his features.

“Not funny. It looks like something to worry over.” She remarked rolling her eyes ever so slightly as she kept the ice pack pressed to his hands.

Chibs shook his head he fast to reassure her. “I’ve been hit before m’love. Had far worse injuries than this.”

She let out a soft sigh having very little doubt about that. She took a deep breath working up her nerve to ask. “I’m guessing everything turned out?”

“Aye, Happy is assistin’ Reno in takin care of shite.” Chibs remarked keeping the answer vague; it was clear he was not entirely willing to go into too much detail. He had the feeling she was smart enough to fill in the blanks without him saying the words.

Happy’s involvement in helping Reno was enough of a hint into how Reno had taken care of their problem.

Y/N felt her stomach turn, proving Chibs right that she was smart enough to fill in the blanks. She sighed once again debating if there was something deeply wrong with her given that she had no desire to bolt from this bed and this man upon knowing what she knew.

She pushed the thought from her mind knowing she would drive herself insane if she psychoanalyzed every reaction she had to the harsh realities of the life the man she had fallen in love with led. 

She was smart enough to know that while SAMCRO tried to mostly stay on the right side of the law these days, that this was still the nature of the world they lived in. 

She had chosen to take on this life when she’d fallen for Chibs. She had to learn to roll with the punches. 

She hated to admit that she was relieved as Chibs changed the subject somewhat away from what Happy may or may not be doing at this moment. “Sorry I had to cancel on our dinner plans, Love.”

“It’s fine, it couldn’t be helped.” She reassured him doing her best to give him a soft smile trying not to cringe at the bruise along his features as she debated pressing the ice pack there as well.

“Aye, I know, but I also know this a hard time of the year fer ye.” Chibs provided the comment making her heart ache with adoration for him as it hit her just what he was hinting at.

She took a deep breath knowing that she was nearing the second anniversary of her grandfather’s death. 

Y/N had always held the silent opinion that her family history was filled with tragedy on both parents sides.

On her father’s side the first death had been her father’s twin brother who had been hit by a drunk driver and killed on his bicycle when he was twelve. The year after that her father’s mother had taken her own life not able to cope with her child’s death and unable to see that she was leaving one other child and a husband behind. Her father’s father had thrown himself into work and Y/N’s father had thrown himself into photography.

Her father had not known happiness until he’d met her mother.

The loss of his brother had hit him hard and he'd carried that grief with him. Y/N could remember her father commenting that had she been born a boy she would have been named Edward for the dead uncle she had never met.

Her father had turned his grief to his photography chasing adventure as a way to cope with loss.

Her mother had shown him that there was more to life than running from grief.

Marion Y/L/N came from pain as well. Her mother had died in childbirth but unlike her husband’s father, her own father had been loving and attentive. She had been positive and optimistic enough to brighten her husband's life.

Y/N was sure when her father had met her mother that they had thought that the future was bright. They had never envisioned that death would find them.

Their own death had been tragic and sudden leaving Y/N an orphan taken in by a grieving but loving grandfather.

Her grandfather had been all she’d had and she was all he’d had. This fact just made her feel worse when she thought of how he’d died alone.

She pushed back the sense of grief dancing around in her chest. “I know I've said it a million times before, but I still feel awful for not going home for the funeral.”

Chibs pressed a hand against her cheek caressing the side of her face quick to offer her reassurance. “I think he’d understand why ye couldn’t go home, Love. Yer safety was more important to him than ye goin' to that funeral. He's somewhere far past that, Love. I firmly believe that.”

She let out a shaky sigh remembering the words she’d said to Chibs to explain exactly why she couldn’t go home for her grandfather’s funeral.

Going home would mean being in the same little town as her ex husband. Being in the same little town as her ex husband was too terrifying to comprehend. She was certain that if she ever stepped foot in her hometown again then she would never leave alive. Ezra would make sure she was his again or he would kill her so that she never left him again.

“I know he’d understand and that almost makes it worse. I mean, I keep thinking about the fact that I was all he had. I feel like I owed him showing up for his funeral, but I stayed hidden away like a coward after everything he did for me when he was alive.” She admitted hating the tears that had begun to pool up behind her eyelids she closing her eyes attempting to stop them.

Chibs wiped at a few stray tears that managed to sneak their ways past her eyelids he fast to respond to her. “I think he loved ye enough to know it was safer fer ye to stay away. I don’t think he woulda viewed ye owing him a thing, Love. He did what he did fer ye because he loved ye.”

She opened her eyes a shaky breath leaving her she unable to stop herself from leaning into his caress. “He really did love me. I think I kind of resented it when I was younger…that’s part of why I married Ezra, I felt smothered by my grandfather. He clung on to me so desperately after my parents died. I didn’t understand some of the choices he made were really meant to protect me, not until I worked up the nerve to leave Ezra.”

She swallowed back the words knowing that Chibs already knew the entire story.

She spoke again, a tight smile crossing her features. “My grandfather was a good man, one of the best men I ever knew. He didn’t have a greedy or selfish bone in his body. I can’t think of many people who would look at that much money and not be tempted to even take one cent.”

She cleared her throat, always feeling awkward at the mention of her fortune.

She hated even thinking of it as a fortune.

She’d resented people’s reaction to finding out about her massive trust fund. In her opinion, no one ever considered just why she had millions to her name. She had always viewed it as blood money.

Her parents' life insurance policies had shelled out more than enough money to last her a lifetime. 

Her grandfather had only added to that fortune when he sued the manufacturer who had made one of the mechanical parts that had been in Y/N’s father’s plane. The part had been faulty and it had been argued that it had aided into just why her father had crashed his plane. Apparently it had been true and a settlement had been reached between the manufacturer and her grandfather.

Needless to say, Y/N’s trust fund had grown fat. She had enough money to her name to never have to work a day in her life. She had enough money for her children and her grandchildren to never have to work.

Her grandfather had touched not one cent of it. He’d set it up for his granddaughter so that she would be the only one allowed access to her money. He’d even forced Ezra to sign a prenup stating he’d have no access to it. It was Y/N’s money alone.

Her grandfather had raised her humbly. She’d worked in the greasy diner he’d owned. She’d been rolling silverware for as long as she could remember. She’d bussed tables and when she was old enough she’d been trusted to bring drinks to patrons and waitressed.

Her grandfather had not spoiled her despite her fortune. He’d taught her to work hard and live below her means.

She had been hesitant to share the information about her financial situation with Chibs almost certain he’d have the same reaction most people had.

To be honest, she’d realized that she truly did love him given what his reaction was.

He’d remarked that he imagined it must be difficult being without her parents, that fortune did not make up for what she’d lost.

He’d been able to voice what she had always felt; that she would much rather have her parents than even one cent to her name.

She felt her throat grow tight needing to say the words. “He’d probably have liked you.”

“Aye, ye sure bout that mo chiridhe? Ye don’t think he’d be unimpressed with me bein such an old bastard not to mention my less than stellar reputation? Ye don’t think he’d take a look at the company I keep and get ye away from me before I corrupt ye too much?” Chibs teased the comment at least working a laugh from her the sound feeling heavenly after the day he’d had.

She rolled her eyes giving his shoulder a nudge as she finally pulled back the ice pack from his hand placing it on the beside table. “Okay, well, he’d probably not be too psyched about either of those things. He’d like how you treat me at least”.

He managed to lean in his lips sliding along hers a small smirk crossing his features. “Aye, I treat ye how ye deserve, Love.”

He pulled his hand from her cheek running it along her side resting it against her hip as his lips continued to slide along hers.

He pulled back from the kiss his words soft against her lips. “Ye think I can show ye jus how I like treatin ye? Make up fer that canceled dinner date?”

She felt the giggle leave her lips as he coaxed her into his lap, she straddling his hips. “Oh, I think you can find a few ways to make it up to me.”

His lips slid across hers all thoughts of the awful day he’d had and the muddled mix of emotions she’d been wrestling with all night too far away to grasp.

She had a feeling that he’d definitely find a way to make amends for their canceled dinner date.

==================================

The tiny town of Stubbs Pass, Alaska was not much to look at. It was close enough to the coast to offer an industry rich with fishing. The Whitlock family had long operated the only canning operation in the town and had supplied the town with employment for a huge portion of the tiny population.

There were a few diners, a couple of tiny hotels that catered to the occasional tourist passing through on the way to one of the actual tourist destinations in the Great North, a tiny post office, one school that catered to elementary through high school, a few churches, and some small modest homes….aside from the Whitlock home which was impressive.

There were also a couple of bars. 

Tonight, young Officer Joseph Adams found himself nursing a beer at one of those bars.

Brown Moose Tavern was not the nicest establishment but it was loved by the locals. It was a good place to grab a cold one after a long day at Whitlock Cannery.

Joseph Adams found himself thinking back to the conversation he’d had with one Sheriff Althea Jarry a few weeks prior. 

He’d done his best to discreetly get in touch with a few people from Y/N Y/L/N’s past, encouraging them to give Jarry a call, but he was certain not many people had taken up the offer.

Most people around town didn’t care much to think about the past at least when it came to Y/N. Some of the local population thought of Y/N with pity remembering the tragedy of the loss of her parents at such a young age. Or they thought of her less favorably aware of her fortune, her troubled marriage to the heir of the town’s biggest employer, and her poor grandfather who had died alone without her.

It seemed that most people from Y/N’s past had no desire to bring up that past especially not with some sheriff from California.

Joseph had decided to pay a visit to the tavern hoping his older brother might be willing to at least humor him by reaching out to Sheriff Jarry. Gordon Adams had been in the same grade as Y/N after all, he’d been best friends with Ezra Whitlock. He had to at least have some memories that might be helpful.

Joseph cringed as Gordon let out a scoff followed by a belch, the man never having the best table manners. “Why do I give a shit?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” Joseph insisted, a frustrated groan leaving his lips.

Gordon rolled his eyes not above calling out his younger brother. “You mean it’s a great career boost for you?”

“It could be…but if this sheriff is right and Y/N is caught up in something…it would be right to help her any way you can.” Joseph offered cringing at the more selfish reasons he may have been agreeable to helping out Sheriff Jarry in her vendetta against the MC in her town.

If she was right then this might open the door for the authorities in Alaska to go after the Sons charter here. If Joseph was involved this early into the investigation then this might be his ticket into a larger force in a bigger town than Stubbs Pass.

Gordon parted his lips to reply but did not have a chance as someone else who was quite familiar with Y/N entered the bar.

Ezra Whitlock had always made Joseph feel uneasy. He was an attractive man, dark hair and eyes, a five o’clock shadow across a chiseled face, a nice jawline, a healthy complexion, and handsome enough in a blue collar good ol boy kind of way. He was physically fit and dedicated to the gym. He attracted plenty of attention from women. 

He was quite typical of most of the men who lived in Stubbs Pass, aside from the fact that he had long been considered the town’s golden boy. Everyone liked him and if you hated him you pretended to like him. 

His money bought plenty of popularity and respect in Stubbs Pass. 

There was something about him that made Joseph feel the slightest sense of unease though.

Perhaps it was just that Ezra had taken joy in giving Joseph such a hard time along with Gordon when Joseph was younger.

Gordon smirked, apparently seeing this as a good chance to once again give his little brother shit. “Ezra you won’t guess what Joey here thinks he’s got started?”

Ezra let out a huff sitting down in a bar stool and pulling out a wad of cash slapping it down on the bar. The bartender moved quick knowing not to leave Ezra waiting for his beer. “What?”

Gordon smirked all the more ignoring Joseph’s slight squirming in his seat. “He’s been talking to some hot shot Sheriff out in California, She thinks Joey here can help her out on her case?”

Ezra gave his companions a sideways glance raising a brow at this information. “What could he know that could help out some cop down in the lower 48?”

“Oh it’s who he could know.” Gordon replied, the smile growing all the more apparent on his features.

He paused for dramatic effect before speaking again, the information definitely catching Ezra’s attention. “Your ex wife.”

Ezra tightened his grip on his bottle, his words holding an edge that made something in Joseph’s stomach turn. “What does she have to do with this?”

Gordon spoke quick to repeat what Joseph had told him, making Joseph cringe. “Apparently she’s settled down in some little town out in California and hooked up with some big bad outlaw that this cop buddy of Joseph is wanting to bust. Joey here is trying to get his foot in on the investigation. Wants me to tell this cop what I know about Y/N. Can you believe that shit? I mean, I knew she had issues when she ran off and did what she did to you, but Christ.”

Ezra gritted his jaw at the comment.

To say he was still hung up on his ex might be an understatement. He knew it had been almost a decade now since the divorce, but he was still not pleased with how things had ended.

He could admit that from time to time he may have tried to track Y/N down. He’d scared off a few guys who had shown interest in her too. 

He could admit he was pissed that she’d left him. In fact he’d spent most of their marriage pissed off. It wasn’t his fault she pushed his buttons and made him lash out more often than not. 

It was her fault really; he resented her. She always did think she was better than him even when he was buying her beers back when she was a teenager. She always was convinced she was better than she was. She didn’t understand the pecking order in Stubbs Pass. 

Ezra hated that Y/N technically had more money than him, that was for sure. Her damned grandfather had forced his hand in signing that prenup insisting he’d not allow the marriage if Ezra refused. Y/N was stubborn enough to listen to the old bastard and Ezra had reasoned that it was in his best interest to play along.

He’d told himself that on paper she was at least a worthy wife of him. Her fortune meant she was desirable enough to marry into the Whitlock family. Her youth had made it easy for Ezra to feel as though he had the upper hand. He had made sure she knew how lucky she was that he’d chosen her. 

He resented that even after the marriage though that Y/N remained the wealthier spouse. He had made sure to remind her that he was the provider in their home. She couldn’t just be happy to sit at home and be the wife she was supposed to be though. She always had a big mouth and he found that she set off his temper.

She was not grateful for what he provided for her. 

Then she’d had the nerve to leave him over one little mistake. He hadn’t meant to hurt her as badly as he did and she had not been able to forgive what he had done. He had tried to win her back but then she’d had the nerve to divorce him.

That had set him off of course, and yes he’d reacted poorly. He could admit his temper had gotten the better of him. 

His parents had forced his hand in the divorce in the end. They told him to divorce the bitch or they were cutting him off. They cleaned up the mess he’d made in lashing out at her and his thank you to them had been to divorce his wife.

He had not divorced her on his terms. He loved her still as much as a man like him could love someone he guessed.

He felt like a child who’d had his toy taken from him. It wasn’t fair. 

He had become determined after that to make Y/N’s life hell or win her back.

He’d come close more than once, tracking her down and trying to romance her. He’d hoped that he could soften her heart and win her back.

He’d never loved another woman the way he loved her. He had not moved on from her despite the fact that women in Stubbs Pass threw themselves his way.

 Y/N was his and that was that. No other woman would satisfy him. 

He was sure that one day he’d win her back or make her pay for humiliating him by leaving him. No one left Ezra Whitlock or made a fool of him.

He took a deep breath pushing back his irritation telling himself that this was a golden opportunity. His ex wife had settled down in California and found some trouble it seemed.

Perhaps she had found herself in deep enough shit to have a wake up call and remember how good she’d had it with him.

He took a swig of his beer playing it cool as he spoke. “Pass on that number to me Joey. I bet I could tell this cop friend of yours a thing or two about my bitch of an ex wife.”

============

FIC MASTERLIST HERE

[x-heesy]

Flash warning ⚠️

Rᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀʏ ғᴏʀ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

A ᴍᴏᴛʜᴀᴛʀᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴜᴠ sᴏɴɢ 🎵

Iɴᴛᴏᴍʏsᴏᴜʟ

Sᴜʙʙᴀssᴍᴀssᴀᴄʀᴇ

I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sʜᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ

Aʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇғᴇɴᴅ

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ ғᴏʀ?

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ?

Aʟʟ ɪs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴇ��

Aʟʟ ɪs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

Hᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ

Hᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sʜᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ

Aʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇғᴇɴᴅ

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ ғᴏʀ?

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ?

Tɪᴍᴇ ɪs ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ʟᴇғᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ

Wʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇ

Fᴜɴɴʏ ʜᴏᴡ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

Fᴀʟʟs ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪsɪᴏɴs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Scorned by Rawthang 🎵 version 5a

[addicted-to-dc]

Scorned - König x Assassin!Reader

(A/N) Always a sucker for spitfire assassin readers. 'Tis my weak spot. Anyways, this will contain gun use and descriptions, bullet wounds, violence, body horror, and amongst other things. Nothing too heavy for the first part. Slow burn, slight enemies to lovers. We shall see what the future holds, muahahaha. (2367 word count)

Of course, it had to be fucking Russia the 141 sent you to. Trust was something they’d never give you, not with your track record of running the second you saw a viable chance. Not this time. A severe winter storm obliterated every option you had. You hate being on their leash. If there’s two things you loved about your life before this, it was being rich and free. At least your rage is keeping you warm.

Teeth chattering, you lift your scope and finally spot your target. A warehouse in the middle of nowhere, apparently one of KorTac’s many weapons caches. The mission? Fucking sneak in and place cameras throughout the facility. That’s all they’re using you for, recon for something they’ll just blow up at the end of the day. A waste of your talents.

You itch for the hunt again, researching and observing everything about your target before finally taking them out. It’s not like you popped the heads of good people. All of them deserved it in the end.

“Got eyes on the warehouse. Going in…”

You wait a few seconds, unable to resist snarking back at the men who’re probably enjoying the heat of the base.

“…and go fuck yourselves. I better have a warm bath waiting for me after this.”

Silencing your comms, you pocket the scope and trudge up the snow. The snow boots they forced you to wear are clunky, something that would make sneaking around more difficult than it should be. It’s like they’re trying to kill you, which they most likely are.

Getting past the guards was too easy, quickly memorizing their patterns until you noticed an opening. Slipping through, the clunky boots are left behind and buried in the snow long before you enter. At least you were able to sneak in backups, much more lightweight and silent. Just the way you like it.

Your snake cam quickly slides underneath the door, confirming that it’s safe to enter. The door is unlocked… that’s the first strike. Your instincts tell you to get out of there, that the mission is already fucked, but you continue. Slipping in, you waste no time climbing to the rafters and place cameras. The unlocked door plagues your mind, something so small that KorTac would never allow to happen.

There are several exits you could use if your gut is right. A window, no, two windows and even a skylight, but even if you did manage to get out you would be stranded. The thought chills you to the bone. Was this a suicide mission? Would the ‘good guys’ really do that to you? Shaking the thought out of your head, you decide to save the last camera placement near the door. At least you’d be able to leave quickly.

Just as you place the second to last camera, the door opens. The cold air sends a chill down your spine, but the man you see walk in makes you freeze. He must be 7 feet tall. Fear finally settles in your bones. Hiding behind one of the metal beams, you shift out of his eyeline and regulate your breathing. You can’t lose your shit, not now. You sneak another peak at him and holy shit, he’s wearing a mask. It’s not cheesy like Ghost, the emo skull caricature ruining any intimidation tactics the man tried on you. No, it’s terrifying. The eye holes, a void of black in the lighting, feel like they’re staring right into your soul.

He moves to turn a corner and BAM!

You slam onto the ground before you know it, slamming on your side and  cracking your head on a crate. Your vision blurs, a possible concussion sealing your fate. God, you should be in the Caribbean right now getting your back blown out. This is such bullshit.

“Looks like a little birdy is nesting where she shouldn’t be.”

His voice is accented, possibly German. No, Austrian? It’s taunting, making your blood boil. Despite seeing three of him, you lift your pistol and aim at one of him, but he’s faster than he looks. The giant plucks the weapon from your hand and grabs you by the throat. As if you weigh nothing, he slams you into another crate, shattering the wood beneath you. Black spots dominate your vision, his eyes burning into yours.

Even while you’re clawing at his hand, he rips your mask off with ease. You try to suck in another breath, but it’s in vain. This is it. You’re dying. The dream of retiring and dying of old age is dead, just like you…

Air. You have air? Greedily filling up your lungs, you wheeze and gasp as you’re flung over a shoulder. Something painfully digs into your stomach, nearly making you lose your breath again, but the cold is enough to kickstart your body. You begin to struggle, but a harsh squeeze to your shoulder wound makes you freeze. Fuck, this giant really did a number on you.

Mr. Tall, dark, and horrifying shoves you into a vehicle, shouting something at the driver. The car lurches forward immediately. Your head nearly slams into the window from the force, but you’re pulled close to a warm body. A knife appears in your vision, your unfocused eyes unable to track it as your clothing is cut away. You move to push him away, but the knife moves to your throat.

The overhead light in the car finally lets you see his eyes, deep blue orbs paralyzing you instantly. Satisfied with your reaction, he finishes cutting through your clothes and applies pressure to your wound. Hissing, your eyes flutter shut, but you’re not even allowed the sweet peace of unconsciousness.

“Eyes open.”

A bump in the road sends pain straight down your spine, waking you enough to keep your eyes open. The giant, who is hunching in the vehicle, starts dressing your wound. The sight nearly makes you laugh. Maybe it does. His eyes move from your wound back to you. It makes you want to shrink away, but the fucked-up part of your brain is enjoying this. You missed working with mercs, at least they knew how to have a good time. A good time sounds good right now.

Everything’s a blur, you barely register leaving the vehicle, let alone the gurney trip through a hallway of blinding lights. Multiple figures pull you forward, slamming through door after door until you reach your destination. They stop so fast you nearly vomit, the whiplash too overwhelming. Too many pairs of hands tear at you, stripping your equipment and cutting through any cloth in the way.

“Sir, the resources we’re using for her-”

Heavy footsteps interrupt the doctor’s words, the room growing dead silent. “She’s worth more alive, unbroken. Do not make me repeat myself again.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Your mouth is dry, why the hell is it dry? Shifting in the bed, the blanket scratches at your exposed skin. The new angle shines a bright ass light in your face. It forces you to shift again, a sigh escaping your lips. That’s when you hear it: a beep. Frowning, your eyes refuse to open until you blink quickly. Flashes of a bright, barren room fill your senses. A hospital?

That’s when it hits you. Oh. Shit. There’s a creak next to you, and that’s when you see him. The giant that subdued you quicker than the 141 did, and that was the whole lot of them. You both stare at each other for a ridiculous amount of time, until he shifts, and your heart rate jumps at the movement. His eyes remain on you, barely blinking.

“You’ve been out for a while,” he remarks, standing up.

He grasps a cup of water, comically small in his hand, and offers it to you. You take it, eyes flicking down to inspect the water before finally taking a sip. God, it feels like heaven. Before you know it, the entire cup is empty. How long were you out?

“Why didn’t you kill me?” you ask, cringing at your own voice. Damn, you sound like you smoked one too many cigs.

“I did not spend months of planning just to kill you, Schatz,” he responds, folding his arms. “After the 141 intercepted our contact, it was my priority to get you back.”

“So, you rescued me?” No one has ever done that for you before. Being used is all you’ve ever known, paid or unpaid. It was you who had to prioritize yourself. “Why?”

“You are not an instrument of death; you use death as an art form.” Who knew he was such a poet? “Apologies for the wounds, I had to convince them we’d kill you.”

“How long was I out for?” Rotating your shoulder, you feel no pain from your bullet wound.

“A month… and there’s something else. The men who had you, the 141, yes?”

You nod, waiting for him to elaborate.

“We found a tag in your arm.”

That makes you sick to your stomach. A tracker? They tagged you like a fucking dog. You played their stupid game, did everything they asked so you could earn their freedom. Your nails dig into the sheets, tearing the fabric from the force of it.

Your eyes flick up to his. “You said something about a contract. What is it?”

Something flashes in his eyes, his head tilting upwards. Is he smiling? “You haven’t lost your fire yet.”

Grumbling, you start stretching your limbs. Like hell you’re going to stay in this bed any longer. Your limbs pop more than you want them to, but at least your body is not as run down as you expected it to be. The routine goes by quickly, and you finally, cautiously, stand up. You wobble slightly, but you’re able to recover.

Your eyes shoot at the mirror in the bathroom, sadness overwhelming you. Shit is what you look like. Your colored hair is long faded, replaced by a dull, washed-out color of blah. Gritting your teeth, you turn to the man who kidnapped you. Technically freed you, but you still have no idea what this giant wants.

“You still haven’t answered my question, big guy,” you huff, immediately snagging the spare clothes next to you. You run through the previous conversation through your head again, trying to get any information out of this gargantuan man.

You slide on the pants, thankfully it’s easier with the shitty hospital gown. Unfolding the shirt, you nearly cry when you see a sports bra fall out of it. God, it’s even your size.

“We will need you for future missions.”

You finish sliding on the bra, freezing. “Missions?”

“Ja. We will discuss a contract, something beneficial to both of us. You and I will be equals in this.”

Tearing off the gown, you pull your shirt over your head. You turn around, sliding your arms through the sleeves with a frown. “And I have a choice?”

“Of course.”

It’s so damn hard to read him with his entire face obscured. At least with Ghost you could cheat a little bit. Masks suck the fun out of everything. “What about living arrangements?”

“Since you are AWOL, soon KIA, I would prefer it if you remained here. There’s a room prepared for you.”

That’s nice of them, but how long until you go crazy in a new cage. You highly doubt they’ll just let you walk out the door, but there must be more to this. He’s got to sweeten the deal.

“The pay?”

“You will find it more generous than your usual prices,” he responds, taking a few steps towards the door. Damn he’s got some legs. Your eyes drift towards his backside. Nice ass, too.

You really need to be spayed. Forcing your eyes upwards, you follow him through the building. Your socked feet are silent compared to his heavy boot steps, but the noise grounds you enough. It allows your mind to wander, this whole situation forcing you to think about how you got here.

You aren’t military, special forces, not even a cop. No, you were a nobody who was willing to do anything to stand up for the little guys. Getting the weapons wasn’t that hard, but training yourself? Being self-taught is what made your skills sought out, always unexpected and untraceable. You made your own rules, picking up a few things whilst you traveled. It’s funny, a life of death and crime let you shed your shell. How things have changed.

You’re in the room before you realize it, your mind wandering too close to memory lane. It’s sparsely decorated, screaming military and barf beige, but it’s all you have. The guns mounted on the walls catch your attention immediately. A gasp leaves your lips before you can help it, gently removing your sniper from its mount.

“Where did you find this? Never thought I’d see this again,” you whisper, immediately falling into your routine of checking it for damages.

“We were too late to prevent your capture,” he replies, watching you, “but we recovered everything they didn’t bother taking.”

Your jaw clenches at the thought of them taking you. Wordlessly, you place it back on its mount. Your hand lingers on it for a few moments, your fingers sliding down in now resistance. “I didn’t wipe my slate clean just to be immediately kidnapped. There was a rat, and not just the one they squeezed my information out of.”

Rage enflames your entire being. Revenge would be a good hobby for you, something to get your strength back. You’re itching for something up close and personal. Almost as if the giant could read your thoughts, he places a file onto the desk. Where was he keeping that? Goddamn you really need to start paying attention.

“We’ve identified a previous client… your first…”

You sift through the information. What information is available on you is enough to fuck you over. She gave them your legal name, history… everything. Your throat tightens at the photo of her, someone you considered a friend. Past tense. She’s on your hit list, bumped up to priority number one. The 141 will have to wait.

[johbeil]

Poor girl in love

Brunette, slim and trim, perky, hopes up but also visibly uncertain. Walks up the stone path to the country house and knocks on the door. We see what’s inside – a man and another woman in embrace. He opens the door, sees who it is, grabs a suitcase sitting by the door and throws it out. Slams the door in the poor girl’s face. “So, where were we?” he throws at the blonde inside. Always throwing something.

– James Steerforth (© 2024)

Based on a preview of the Klondike Adventures video game I get to see way more often than I like when trying to play Microsoft Solitaire. The picture above is a low-quality screenshot from the preview.

[crackhannigram]

Will Graham the second he found out Hannibal left him for Bedelia to go to Florence together

[baby-bambi]

I hate my eyes.

Yet another person who tells me “your eyes light up when you see me” or “your eyes dilate when you look at me.” Another person who won’t commit, won’t stay. Yet another reason why I’m jealous of those with dark eyes; because you can see blue so easily.

Have you any clue the amount of tears, these eyes you look into so easily, have cried? Have you any clue of what they see? How they see?

Whenever I look into my mirrors, when I truly look at myself, I am almost disgusted. I am beautiful, but I’ve been tainted. Not in the sense of being touched by many, no. The fact that these eyes hold so much love for the people I meet, knowing I will be burned in the end, knowing they can see it, is what disgusts me; the souls that have left me scorned are what have tainted me.

I guard myself with my aggression, with my silence, my secrets, my white lies. Yet these eyes, these damned eyes tell you everything you need to know, and I am afraid you will use that. Afraid that you will abuse it.

I am afraid to let you see my truest self. However, I will not beg for your love. I will not beg you to stay and accept me. I know I am intense, I am not for everyone, these eyes are not for everyone. So if you choose to stay, to accept me, to love me; treat them carefully, allow them to see the beauty of this damaged and tainted soul.

[howifeltabouthim]

Oh! to love him as she did now! to yearn after his affection with this passionate, jealous longing, and to know that they were separated for ever and for ever; that she was worse to him than nothing!

Ellen Wood, from East Lynne

[snowywisp]

Hi! I'm Alice and I'm really crappy at introductions, but welcome to my tumblr! I'm a webcomic creator of SCORNED and I currently have another webcomic that I'm aiming to release next year!

So, let's start off with SCORNED

SCORNED is a dark fantasy webcomic that follows the tale of Hel, a witch with a thousand year old promise to end the one who took everything from her. Through the years she's made friends, allies and enemies, the most recent person to enter her life is a vampire named Annie. Right now, Hel feels closer than ever to fulfilling her promise. Perks of SCORNED?

The main cast is all female!

LGBTQ+ friendly!

Goth babes

weird romance stuff

you can read the comic here: https://scorned-comic.com/ (it is currently on a bit of a hiatus because I get waves of severe depression that unfortunately stop me from doing anything productive.)

Now, let's go into SCARRED EDEN, my comic that's hopefully comic out next year!

SCARRED EDEN is a sci-fi fantasy story that follows around a naive and horny princess (oh btw this is a strictly adult comic) that ends up in the care of a very big angry-looking man that could split people in half, in sexy and non-sexy ways. I'd go more in-depth with the story, but since it hasn't come out yet, I don't want to reveal TOO much :p Now, why should you be excited for SCARRED EDEN?

adult webcomic and we all need more of those

slow burn romance most likely

also LGBTQ+ friendly!

space bunnies

also probably has weird romance stuff

and of course, we get to see some tiddies and peen

So, SCARRED EDEN does have a site, but... why even go to it when the comic is coming out next year? :p

now webcomics aside, why even bother following me? You don't have to, BUT if you do you get to see some art, WIPs of the comics, and just dumb posts, if I make any. But seriously, I do post art things like:

Anyway... that's all I really have to post for now! I do have a twitter and a patreon!

Thanks for reading ^-^

[mythriel81]

Rose Azule seems scorned by someone.

Made on FireAlpaca!!

[kyndaris]

Scorned

As always, I've uploaded this story to my FictionPress and Wattpad already. But I thought I'd let those that read my blog a chance to read it as well without having to click away. It is, after all, a short story. For my longer novel-length stories, head over to https://www.fictionpress.com/u/577676/scattered-wind or https://www.wattpad.com/user/Kyndaris if you like to use Wattpad instead.

Stepping into the chapel, it was like we had entered a new world. The pews had been decorated with garlands. Similarly, the pulpit, where the minister would shortly stand, was flanked by two heaving bouquets of sickly-sweet flowers. Looking up, one could glimpse strings of fairy lights that had been strung up on the Gothic arches.

And gathered together for this most auspicious occasion were those nearest and dearest to the bride and groom.

It was to be the perfect wedding.

It should have been the perfect wedding.

But just as the ceremony was in full swing, right before the bride and groom were to kiss, a bedraggled woman in a tattered white dress �� held back by two security guards – pushed her way through the doors of the chapel. Her black hair hung lankly and her lips were chapped. There was a wild look in her eyes as she struggled forward, mascara running down her face.

“I object!” she spat. “This farce has gone on long enough.”

The entire chapel went silent, as if we had all decided to hold our breath as we watched the events unfold.

“Has she told you the truth, Arthur? The real reason behind it all? Has she even told you her real name?”

All eyes turned towards the groom – Arthur – as he dropped the hands of his bride-to-be and stepped forward, face red, looking as if all he wanted to do was rip the woman in half with his bare hands.

I could see the thoughts churn in his head. How dare this stranger come in, wearing white no less, and object? On what grounds? And on this most happy and momentous day? The sheer nerve!

But the words she spoke, they tickled something in the back of my mind. What did she mean?

Thinking back, I knew that the union between Melissa and Arthur had been contentious. The reason why had always been subject to rumour but I’d not paid it much mind at the time. I was simply happy that Arthur had found someone after the disastrous breakup with Caitlin all those years ago.

Besides, I was just a family friend. My invitation to the wedding was almost an afterthought.

I glanced towards the bride, hoping for further enlightenment. Melissa’s face was as pale as death. It was almost as if she had seen a ghost. And it clashed horribly with her wedding dress with its long train and veil that stood in contrast to her dark coloured hair.

“You have no right to be here! No right to even object!” roared Arthur, taking my attention back to the unfolding drama between the mysterious woman and the groom. Arthur turned to his brother, one finger pointed out in a silent decree. “Get her out of here, Harold! Never let this piece of filth darken our doorstep ever again! I don’t want to see her ever again.”

Harold glanced between the woman and his younger brother. After a moment’s hesitation, Harold took hold of the woman’s arm, none too gently. Then he, along with the two security guards, frogmarched her out the exit.

I watched her go, wondering at her words and Arthur’s visceral reaction. There was more to the story here. I could feel it. But it wasn’t my place to ask anything. Not yet, anyways, with the ceremony still underway. It simply wouldn’t be polite. And I had been raised better than that.

It took several minutes for the guests to quiet. Many were trying to figure out who the mysterious woman was as they whispered to those beside them. Nothing of this scale had ever happened before at anyone else’s wedding.

Arthur, still fuming, struggled to hold back his anger if his clenched jaw and white knuckled fists were any indication. No doubt he would have roared at us to shut up if he could. Thankfully, Harold returned shortly afterwards and whispered something into the minister’s ear.

As he reread the sermon before the exchange of vows again, everyone settled back into their seats. Melissa and Arthur resumed their place before him.

Despite the fact that seems should have returned to normal, Melissa still seemed visibly shaken from the encounter. Her eyes would constantly dart towards the doors of the church. As if she was expecting a reappearance of the mad woman.

Was it worry? Or was it fear?

I was pulled from my thoughts when the rest of the guests clapped their hands as Melissa and Arthur pressed their lips together in what could have been described as the most perfunctory and wooden performance I had ever seen in my twenty-five years of life. It was worse than the travesty that was the kiss between Cho Chang and Harry Potter in the film version of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Melissa was the first to break away from the kiss as she turned towards the audience.

Together, they sat back down to the side as the minister stepped forward to lead everyone through a round of hymns.

As we sang, I noticed from the corner of my eye how Melissa leaned in close to Arthur as she whispered into his ear. The tension returned in his jaw but he maintained a façade of calm as he squeezed her fingers. He muttered something back in reply to Melissa.

Her face blanched but she said nothing more. Focused, instead, on mouthing the words that she probably didn’t feel. How interesting.

And just like that, the wedding ceremony ended.

Soon, there would be a series of photographs and a reception to be held at a fancy hotel later in the evening. Tedious affairs, to be sure, but that was what weddings had become in this modern age. They were meant to be spectacles of the internet age. I’d seen so many of my friends dressed in their white flowing dresses in as many different settings as there were stars in the night sky.

Melissa and Arthur’s wedding was the fifth I’d attended this year.

Rising from my seat, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up. It would be some time before I’d be called up for a group photo with the rest of my family.

The bathroom was empty as I entered the stall. But as soon as I shut the door, I heard two women come in. They were talking in hushed voices.

“—so distasteful.”

“I know, right? Melissa, though, was very good at keeping it together. I don’t think I could have been so calm if someone were to barge in on my wedding, wearing that poor excuse of a dress.”

“Did you see the look on Arthur’s face? I thought he was going to explode.”

“Would have served her right. I think I would have cheered.”

“Myrtle, no! Don’t you know who she is?”

“A crazed lady, by all accounts.”

“That was Caitlin’s younger sister, Larissa!”

That was when I chose to make my presence known as I made a show of flushing the toilet and stepped out of the stall. I flashed Myrtle and Norma a polite smile as I went to the furthest sink to wash my hands.

“Are the two of you looking forward to the reception?” I asked, pretending as if I hadn’t heard a word that they had exchanged earlier. “I remember that they said it was going to be at the Intercontinental. Think they’ll be lobster?”

With a knowing look, Myrtle winked at me. “Oh, my dear, of course there will be. Arthur’s parents wouldn’t have allowed the wedding to go ahead if it wasn’t on the menu.”

“Indeed,” agreed Norma. “We shall see you outside, yes, Vicky?”

I nodded, keeping my polite smile plastered on my face. “Yes. I’ll see the two of you outside.”

The two of them left and I was left alone to reapply my mascara and touching up my lipstick. When I had finished, I ran a critical eye over my reflection. I had an oval face with high cheekbones. It was pretty but I would have preferred a more defined jawline.

Fanfiction authors that were just starting out in their craft might have described my eyes as dark chocolate gooey orbs, but that would be stretching it a bit far. And a little mortifying to imagine. No, my eyes were brown though they were darker than most. The smoky eyeshadow I had on served to heighten the sense of mystique I had going.

My lips were thin. Paired with my eyebrows, I looked severe. Years of practice in high school had taught me how to soften my look so I could look more naturally friendly. I tried it now, contorting the muscles in my face and going for a concerned expression. It worked though it was a little stiff. I’d have to keep working on it. Especially if I was hoping to use it later in the evening.

Satisfied that my makeup was in order and there was no blemish that needed to be hastily covered up, I exited the toilet. Just in time for the set of photos that my family would be taking with the bride and groom.

~

By the time the group photographs were done, my cheeks were sore from smiling and my feet from standing. All I wanted to do was head back to my apartment, down a few glasses of shiraz and perhaps call it a night. But, of course, when it came to weddings, there was still the reception and the dancing and the celebrating to get through.

After all, they were meant to be bombastic and loud.

Proof, of course, that we had succeeded in life and would finally live out our ‘happily-ever-afters’. After all, wasn’t that the dream that we were sold in our younger years? Find the one your one true love and everything else will work out? At least, I think that was the message inherent in all Disney films during their renaissance period.

While the others were bidding Arthur and Melissa a prosperous marriage, I took a seat on a nearby bench and slipped off my high heels to give my feet a chance to breathe. Moments later, Harold plopped down beside me, his tie askew. He looked me up and down with an appreciative eye.

“Long day, Vicky?”

“Well, you know me, Harry. I’m always out dancing late into the early hours of the morning.”

He laughed. “Oh yeah? Where’d you go this time?”

“Oh, here and there. Real small clubs. Places you wouldn’t have heard of.”

“Try me.”

“The Yarn and Hook,” I answered. “Where the Crawdads Sing.”

“So, crocheting and reading. That’s so typical of you, Vicky.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “So you say, Harry. But I’m not the one stalking someone else’s Goodreads.”

Harry and I had been close ever since we were young. Or, well, as close as family friends could be. It was hard when you didn’t attend the same high school and studied different things at university. Social media helped, but when we both became gainfully employed members of society, time seemed to slip away as a general sense of busyness pervaded our everyday.

Him with his finance firm. Me and my journalism.

“Touché,” acceded Harry. He leaned back against the bench. “God, I could go for a drink.”

I couldn’t resist the rejoinder that sprung to my lips. “Long day, Harold?”

He glared at me, knowing that I knew how much he hated his full name. “Why yes, Victoria,” he replied snidely. “I mean, being treated like a servant by your older brother is great fun. Especially when you have to deal with his ex’s crazy sister. And all she’s doing is screeching in your ear. Like, how my escorting her out of the chapel constituted as assault. Or that she’ll press charges.”

“I heard people talking in the bathroom earlier,” I said. “So, that was Larissa? She doesn’t look a lot like Caitlin at all.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. They are half-sisters, after all. You were seeing her at her worst.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, scooting closer toward Harry.

He looked away. “Forget I said anything. It’s not important.”

“You can’t just offer a journalist the hint of something deeper and then end it at that,” I said. “Come on, Harry. You can trust me. I’m not on the clock. Anything you reveal will be completely off the record.”

Harry sat back up and it was like the jovial playful air that we had enjoyed before had vanished. He stared at me for several uncomfortable seconds. “This isn’t like your usual interviews, Victoria. Larissa is dangerous. If you see her, stay away. I’ve a feeling she might try to sabotage the reception. God only knows how she’ll figure out the location,” he said and rose to his feet.

I watched as Harry left. This had been my one chance at getting more information and I’d bungled it terribly. And I’d probably only served to pour oil on what was already a tenuous position at best. Instead of pressing him for answers, perhaps if I’d more sympathetic…

Something to study up on, I supposed, as I stood up and straightened my dress.

Still, I wasn’t leaving empty-handed. Harry had confirmed what I had overheard in the bathroom and had provided an additional titbit of information that I hadn’t had before. And, as every journalist worth their salt knew, every little morsel helped.

As I headed towards the metro station, I pulled out my phone and messaged someone I hadn’t talked to for a good four years. Ever since Arthur had broken her heart four years ago.

                                                             --

Stepping into the lobby of the Intercontinental was like being whisked off into a fairy tale forest. Arthur and Melissa had spared no expense when it came to the decadent decorations. Huge oaks spiralled up towards the roof, their branches stretching across the ceiling to crown the set of beautiful constellations in the night sky. Half hidden by the canopy was a crescent-shaped moon.

It was beautiful and impressive. And, if I didn’t know any better, I might have bought into the fantasy The only thing missing were the actual creatures that lived in such places and sprightly fae.

As it was, my sheer baby blue dress paired with holographic butterfly wings, which I had bought at a Halloween store, served to match the theme for the wedding reception.

“Excuse me, are you a guest for Arthur and Melissa’s reception?”

The question pulled me back down to cold hard reality. My eyes travelled down from the stars back to the smartly dressed concierge with a forced smile on her face. She was standing next to a simple A3 sized welcome sign embossed with gold.

On it was written: Welcome. We are so glad to have you join us. In smaller script, it read:  Follow the petals to the reception hall. Love Arthur and Mel.

“Yes.”

“Do you have your invitation and a form of photo ID?”

“Of course,” I replied, digging in my purse for them both. “I assure you that I did pack them in. Ah, here it is.”

The invitation was lined in silver, the outside edge decorated with intricate floral designs and silhouettes of fairies. In the lower right corner was an artistic rendition of the loving couple, both adorned with huge feathery wings. It was something Melissa had insisted upon and was based on her favourite book series.

The concierge gave it a cursory glance. “And your ID, please?”

“Oh, right.” Opening up my phone, I showed her my digital licence.

“Your mask, ma’am.”

Sheepishly, I removed the gold masquerade mask from my face. The concierge, taking my phone, scrutinised my licence and then looked back at my face. Satisfied, she handed me back my phone. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the reception hall.”

“Don’t I just—” I started, putting my mask back on, and gesturing to the path of petals that led down the corridor to the left.

“That may be so, ma’am, but the groom insisted that all guests be accompanied once their identity has been verified. Please. Follow me.”

Her tone brooking no argument, she turned on her heel and led me down a side passageway opposite to the petals path. After trailing after her through a labyrinthine maze, she stopped outside mahogany panelled function doors. Pushing them open, I stepped down into a ballroom ripped straight out from a fantasy world.

A short marble staircase led down to the dance floor and a ring of tables. A three-tiered cake sat near the long table where the bride and groom would preside over events. Most of the other guests had yet to arrive but that did not stop those that had come early to enjoy a glass of bubbly and a few canapes.

All eyes turned to me as the concierge announced my presence.

Quite a few men looked at me appreciatively but most returned to their conversations. As I walked down the stairs, I scanned the crowd for any familiar faces. Only Harold stood out but he’d barely noticed my presence, wrapped up in a heated discussion with someone I couldn’t quite make out.

A part of me wanted to go back up to him and apologise for what had happened earlier in the day but just as I reached the dance floor, I was accosted by none other than Norma.

She, just like me, had changed outfits. When I had seen her earlier, she had been wearing a simple floral dress with a pastel pink jacket on top. Now, she had changed into a navy asymmetrical cocktail dress. Around her shoulders, she wore an effervescent shawl. Atop her head, she had on a tiny crown.

“I had not expected to see you so early, Vicky. And my, what a lovely outfit you have on. Very chic, as my niece would say.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You also look very delicious tonight, Norma.”

“Oh, nonsense. This was just something I threw on.”

“Well then, you have impeccable taste.”

Norma tittered politely before leaning in closer. “You know, they say that Arthur’s hired additional security for the reception. You should have seen how that concierge lady was staring me down earlier. I thought she wanted to rip my dress of. But no, rumour has it that Arthur wants to make sure everything goes off without a hitch after that frightful display this morning with Larissa.”

“Who?”

“Larissa. Didn’t you know? She’s Caitlin’s sister. And bad, bad news.”

“Wait, that woman who interrupted the ceremony was Caitlin’s sister?” I asked, pretending to ask surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yes,” said Norma. “It’s a little-known secret. Rumour has it that Larissa had been obsessed with Arthur from the first. When he was still dating Caitlin. She’d always try and insert herself into situations. Made their entire relationship incredibly difficult. No wonder Arthur stepped away, poor boy.”

“What about the sisters?”

“What about them?”

“Was there any fallout when Arthur broke up with Caitlin? I’m sure if I had a sister that kept trying to force herself into my relationship with a significant other, I’d be livid.”

“You know, Vicky, I never did think to look at it from Caitlin’s perspective,” said Norma. “Most of us ARE friends of Arthur’s parents. And when he broke up with Caitlin, that was the end of it all. Sweet girl, that she is, it wasn’t MY place to prod my nose into her affairs. Why, that would make you a busybody gossip, after all.” She tittered nervously again.

The conversation shifted then into safer waters and after a few minutes more, Norma excused herself and I was once more alone at the reception with almost no-one to talk to. Which I didn’t mind. Arthur had only invited me out of obligation. And with my parents still overseas, I was the sole representative of the family.

If I hadn’t been close to Harold back in our younger years, I couldn’t help but think that I wouldn’t have received an invitation at all.

It was a shame that our fight this morning had soured a little of our relationship.

Still, I was here to celebrate the coming together of Arthur and Melissa, drown myself in red wine and enjoy the highest quality food there was. So, it didn’t matter that Harold and I weren’t quite on talking terms right now. It would fix itself in time.

At least that’s what I told myself as I located my name on Table 13

While there were a few names I recognised, most of the other guests I would be sitting with were unknowns. But that too was okay. This wasn’t my night, anyways. I was just an extra to the grand event. A prop to be used in the photos to show off what a special day it all was.

“How very interesting. You have an undefined aura around you,” said a voice from behind me. “The colours, though vibrant, struggle underneath a pall.”

I jumped, whirling around to face a…little girl about eleven or twelve years of age. She had on a midnight blue gown that barely touched her knees and wore a black velvet butterfly mask to cover her face.

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s okay. Most don’t,” said the girl. “Still, this is a very interesting phenomenon. The only other times I’ve seen something like this happen is when people are lying. Or they’re scared.”

A cold sliver of fear slid down my spine. Had my ruse been discovered? No. The girl was guessing at best, trying to find a weak spot. I forced a smile to my face. “Where are your parents, um…sorry, I didn’t quite get your name?”

“Lilibeth. Lily for short. And my parents are over there,” she pointed to table number 4, “catching up with the Rodrigues. But I got distracted so I didn’t go over.”

“An interesting field of study. Was it something you picked up from reading or…?”

Lilibeth shook her head. “No. I’ve been able to see auras for as long as I can remember. Although, I suppose it was only quite recently that I discovered what exactly it was that I was seeing.”

“And do you see ghosts too?” I asked, a teasing note in my voice.

“While they do exist, I’ve yet to be able to detect—oh! You’re just joking. Right. That’s something people do as well. Or was that your way of saying you find me annoying? I’m not very good with social cues and it was only when Mrs Yu told me directly that I realised she didn’t much like it when I tried to read her aura earlier.”

“Must be hard,” I said.

“Exhausting.”

“Were you at the wedding, Lily? I don’t think I noticed you.”

“I was. But the energy inside that chapel was ugly. Melissa’s aura was very muted and Arthur’s was a spectrum of red. Especially when that woman showed up.”

“And—” Before I could finish my question, there was the tinkling of cutlery on wine glasses and all heads swivelled to the entrance of the ballroom.

Standing at the top, a huge smile on his face was Harold. He put aside his empty wine glass and knife, and accepted the microphone that was handed to him.

“Welcome one and welcome all!”

A thunderous cheer greeted his words. Harold waited for the din to die down before he continued.

“Though the day hasn’t been without its ups and downs, it’s still been a most auspicious day for my older brother, Arthur, and his wife: Melissa. After all, the two got married down at the St Thomas Cathedral! And for those that attended, I’m sure you would agree that it was one of the most magical moments possible.

“Within a few moments, my brother and his wife will be coming in. I’d like it if we could all put our hands together as soon as they enter. Ready?”

And just like that, as if on cue, the doors leading into the ballroom opened. I watched as Arthur, dressed in a satiny black tuxedo with great bat-like wings strapped to his back came through. Melissa was at his side dressed like a fairy queen, a tiara resting on top of her overly sprayed hair, and staring adoringly up at her husband.

Knowing the truth of the matter, it was all kinds of sickening.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a sip, turning away from the sight.

“Oh, I see some red peeking through,” said Lily, looking up at a space three inches above my head. “You must be feeling angry. Is it because you might also have liked Uncle Arthur in the past?”

“What?” I sputtered, almost spitting out my drink. “Where would you get that idea?”

“It’s just that Uncle Arthur has had to contend with a lot of women in the past. There was Aunty Caitlin and then Aunty Larissa and—”

“No. Ew. Stop.” The look of horror on my face would have served to stop any more curious forays into my love life, but Lilibeth persisted, although in a different vein.

“Oh, then is it because of Uncle Harold? You know, he’s been single for a very long time. And I did hear that—”

“We are not having this conversation,” I interrupted, cheeks flushed. I drained the rest of my glass and put it on the table.

“Did I say something to offend you? Your aura has changed to an angry orange, as if you’re annoyed. Oh, actually, there’s something else there too. Embarrassment?”

It was the tipping point. The exposure of my feelings wasn’t something I wanted some prepubescent child to announce to the whole world. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“My parents say that’s not a nice word.”

“Which one? No, shit or Sherlock?” I retorted without thinking.

Lily finally looked me in the eye. Her tiny face was like a porcelain mask but I could see her bottom lip quiver and the first signs of tears. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong. It wasn’t my intention to hurt or wound.”

Oh God, that look…

Some of my anger bled away at the look. So, taking a deep breath, I crouched down next to Lily so that we were at the same level. “Look, Lily, I know that you’re struggling to understand and control your super powers but I can tell you that asking someone if they’re annoyed when they are isn’t very conducive to the situation. When people are ‘emotionally charged,’ sometimes the best way is to take a step back and give them some space. Do you get what I’m saying?”

She scrunched up her face before finally nodding. “I think I do. And even though I can see that you’re not very happy with me at this moment, you’re also trying your very best to deal with me very civilly. My mum isn’t always like that. She usually just gets really mad and shouts at me. So, thank you for being patient with me. I’ll go join them over with the Rodrigues family for now.”

“You do that,” I said. “It’ll be much safer that way.”

Lily stared at me for a moment too long as she parsed my words, head cocked to one side. “You’re planning something. And it has something to do with Uncle Arthur and Aunty Melissa.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. How could such a young girl be so perceptive?

I opened my mouth, mind racing at a million miles per second as I racked it for a possible response. As the silence lengthened and no words came to my lips, I closed it. What would have been the point of further obfuscation? The girl could read bloody auras.

For all I knew, she might have already hazarded a guess at the truth. If only I had met her earlier, we might have been allies.

But, when it came do it, it didn’t change any of my immediate plans.

So, rather than confirm or deny her suspicions, I simply ushered Lilibeth back to her parents. Left with my thoughts, I grabbed another champagne flute from a passing waiter as the guests slowly found their tables and the party got under way.

                                                           --

The night proceeded without much incident. As for the speeches, they had little in terms of surprises. They were almost stale in how they followed the rote formula of every wedding speech ever. There were childhood stories, amusing anecdotes of Arthur’s life and of the budding love that had grown between him and Melissa.

As for Melissa’s family and friends, they spoke of the wonderful and caring soul that she was. At their words of praise, she had flushed prettily, burying her face in the crook of her now husband’s arm.

Were it not for the sporadic deliveries of entrée and main course, I would have found the whole entire pageantry a bore. That was, of course, until Harold took once more to the stage right before dessert, accompanied by Melissa’s maid of honour.

I’d seen Linda at the wedding. She was, apparently, one of Melissa’s best friends from high school. She had a pert upturned nose and blonde tresses that would have flowed down to about mid-back if she hadn’t pinned it up. Dressed in a lilac dress that was a little too tight around her waist, I eyed the woman as my brain registered that something was just a little off.

Was it me or was the grin on Harold’s face just a little too forced? And did Linda look a little more frazzled than when she had appeared at the wedding, boogeying down the aisle with the other bridesmaids?

“Now, this is where it all starts getting mushy, folks! We’ve had the ice breaker. We’ve had the shoe game. And we’ve had the inspiring speeches from family and friends alike. Now—”

Before Harold could finish, the doors to the ballroom crashed open. In stepped a woman dressed all in black, from her butterfly mask to the torn and tattered wedding dress. Affixed to her back were two great batlike wings, not unlike those that Arthur had taken off to sit down at the table.

Gasps sounded all around.

Arthur stiffened for a moment before he rose to his feet, cheeks suffused with red as he pointed one shaky finger in the woman’s direction.

“Get her out of here!” he all but roared.

Harold and two security guards jumped to obey the order.

But the woman, presumably Larissa, was too quick, dodging away when they tried to grab her. She quickly came down the stairs and ducked behind the other guests. Many were too stunned to try and stop her, exclaiming only in alarm when one of the security guards lunged forward and missed, nearly toppling an entire table over.

The farce went on for a few minutes until Arthur removed his suit jacket, ignoring Melissa’s plea to think rationally, and rolled up his sleeves. It seemed that he had learned the hard way that if you wanted to do something right, you had to do it yourself.

“Pathetic,” he said to Harold as he walked past.

A look flitted over Harold’s face. One that screamed anger and disbelief. He took one step forward before turning around to return to his chair, removing the bow tie around his neck and throwing it on the ground.

Seeing Arthur approach, the woman came to a stop right next to the towering five-layer wedding cake. There was a smirk on her face, though she was still breathing hard. She pushed back her hair, not as lanky as they were this morning.

“You’ve had your fun,” growled Arthur. “Leave before things get ugly.”

“I don’t think so,” retorted the woman, sounding exactly as she had at the ceremony. Larissa. It had to be. “I think I want to disrupt events a little further. Push my luck.” She reached out towards the cake.

“Don’t you dare!”

“And why shouldn’t I, Arthur? Why should I allow this to happen when it’s clear that you belong with me?”

“I’m not some trophy,” hissed Arthur. “Not an object that you can inscribe your name onto.”

The woman shook her head. Her hands gripped tight on the table that held the wedding cake. “No. No. No. She’s poisoned you against me. Do you even know who she really is?”

“She’s Melissa. The love of my life. The future mother to my children.”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong! She’s a fraud and a thief. And her name is Larissa. My sister.” With that declaration, the woman removed her black butterfly mask to unveil the face of one Caitlin Bai.

As one, the entire room gasped before lapsing into shocked silence. People exchanged looks with each other. But I couldn’t help but turn my attention to Melissa. She was still seated at the head table, her face as white as death and her eyes so huge and dilated that they could have swallowed the sun.

Arthur glanced back at his wife and then at Caitlin, dressed all in black. Doubt seemed to have caught him in its paralysing grip.

“See. You know I speak truth, Arthur. You’ve known it all along. I can see it on your face. We were together so long, Arthur, I can read you like a book.”

Until the whispers began and his face once more turned red.

“Enough! I will hear no more of these lies!” he roared and lunged forward, anger and hatred in his eyes. What he intended to do with Caitlin was anyone’s guess.

And just like that, chaos ensued as the wedding cake tittered on the table before smashing into the ground as Caitlin darted past Arthur’s grasping hands. Guests screamed. Many rose to their feet, ready to flee.

I was on my feet, unsure where to go. Did I help Caitlin? Or ought I leave this shambolic wedding reception and go back home. After all, this wasn’t my fight. Arthur and Harold and Melissa have to deal with the aftermath. And yet I also found myself bound to remain. The juicy drama before me was only just unfolding. I could already see the headlines.

But before I could make a decision on what to do next, Melissa rose to her feet. She was tapping feverishly at a champagne flute with the butter knife. The ringing sound of crystal cut through the noise.

Everyone stopped. Even Arthur. All heads turned towards Melissa, or Larissa if Caitlin’s claims were to be believed, as they waited for her to speak. Caitlin paused, mid-way up the stairs to the ballroom, a bemused look on her face. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Melissa to take a stand.

“I-I don’t know who you think you are but you are not welcome here!” stuttered Melissa, placing the knife and flute down on the table. “T-this was supposed to be m-my big day and you’ve ruined it. I would like it if you could l-leave.”

A smirk made its way to Caitlin’s lips. “Really? After everything you’ve done, you think you get to have a nice fairytale ending? Well, newsflash: you don’t, Larissa! Stop trying to play the innocent here!”

Melissa shook her head. “I don’t understand. I don’t know who this Larissa is. Though it’s clear you’ve been hurt by her. But I also don’t know who you are either.”

“Playing dumb won’t help you!” screamed Caitlin. Fire flashed in her eyes. “Just give it up! Tell the people the truth!”

“I’m sorry. You have the wrong person,” said Melissa, gaining strength from Caitlin’s display. After all, this was her wedding reception. She was in the right. Not Caitlin. “Now, please leave. Before we ask security to escort you out and call the cops.”

“No! I refuse. Why should I acquiesce when you were the one that masqueraded as me to break up with Arthur? You were always jealous of me, Larissa. Of what I had with Arthur. And I know that you took the money father gave me and used it to become whatever this is. So, I won’t leave. Not until I am vindicated!”

A hush descended over the room. No-one knew what to do or what to think. Instead, we all waited with bated breath for Melissa’s return volley as if this were a game of tennis.

Were it me, I would have already called the police. Or had called in hotel security, which was conspicuously absent except for the two muscleheads that were flanking Arthur.

Seconds passed. The tension so thick that one could cut it with a knife.

But before I knew what exactly was happening, the silence was broken first by a snort. And then Melissa was grabbing her stomach, doubled over with laughter.

A few nervous giggles broke out across the other guests.

For the first time all night, a look of doubt flashed across Caitlin’s face. I could see the thoughts in her head churning. Had she been wrong from the start? Maybe she really had made it all up in her head. After all, it all sounded like the plot of some daytime soap opera or k-drama.

Wiping away a tear of mirth from her eye, Melissa straightened. A cruel grin had replaced the lost confused look she bore before. She nodded towards Arthur. And he, like a loyal soldier, commanded the two burly security guards with him and his brother to secure the exits to the ballroom.

Caitlin looked around, fear finally creeping across her face as she realised the trap that had been set with us guests serving as the set dressing. I had to give it to Melissa. She knew how to keep her plans close to the vest.

My gaze wandered over to Norma and Myrtle huddled near the orchestra, darting to Lilibeth still seated primly at her table and cutting into the roast beef, before finally settling on Harold. There was a grim set to his jaw. One that told me he disapproved of the plan.

He always was a bleeding heart. It would hurt all the more to learn the truth as the reception reached its climax.

I didn’t want to do it but there was no going back now. No reversing the hands of time to when we were just innocents running around a garden like fools in love.

“Oh sister, your desperation is delicious,” said Melissa. “And oh, so predictable.”

“Fuck you, Larissa!”

“You know, it’s funny,” said Melissa. “Does it feel strange to keep saying your own name?”

Wait, what? Did that mean…

I looked from Caitlin to Melissa, trying to wrap my head around the implication behind Melissa’s words. If Caitlin was Larissa, then that meant…

A low murmur passed through the room as they, too, tried to process the revelation. From the corner of my eye, I saw Myrtle turn to Norma, mouth hanging wide open. But it was Harold’s reaction – my poor dear Harry – that revealed that even he had been blindsided. His face was as pale as a sheet of paper as he looked to his brother and then back to Melissa.

“Arthur, why didn’t—”

“Because I asked him not to,” replied Melissa as she turned to her brother-in-law. And though I knew in my head, this was supposed to be Caitlin, I couldn’t quite accept it. Not yet anyways. “It wouldn’t have changed things between us. After all, Larissa was always one to chart her own path. It wasn’t your fault. Isn’t that right, sister?”

“No! No! No! I’m Caitlin.”

“So, you don’t remember the fight four years ago? Or the drugging and the surgery you did?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Melissa took a step towards the woman that looked like Caitlin Bai. How the tables turned. Whereas before, Melissa had acted meek, it was now Caitlin, or Larissa, for that was her true name (I couldn’t keep up with all these reversals of who they really were), was the one that shied away from the blow.

“Larissa, you need to learn to let go,” said Melissa-Caitlin. “I have. Even though you left me with a wicked scar on the side of my face after the fight. Left me for dead in a back-alley in Thailand?”

Caitlin-Larissa tugged desperately at her long black hair. “This is a nightmare. A fucking nightmare. I was meant to be with Arthur, not you. You’re supposed to be dead! Dead! Dead!”

“But I’m not.”

“And I knew something was wrong the moment you tried to usurp Caitlin’s identity,” said Arthur, his eyes flashing dangerously. “That’s why I called it all off. Imagine my surprise, of course, when I came upon Melissa by chance when I was overseas.”

“I didn’t have my memories then,” said Melissa-Caitlin, her fingers finding Arthur’s, entwining together. “But the more time I spent with Arthur, the more I knew.”

“Lies. Lies. Lies,” chanted Caitlin-Larissa, shaking her head. “I’m Caitlin. You’re the impostor. Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

And then, Harold gently took hold of Caitlin-Larissa’s wrist. She looked up at him and suddenly it was as if all the fight deserted her. Caitlin-Larissa slumped into his hold, knowing that she had lost.

My heart went out for her. I knew the pain of unrequited love, had held it close to my chest for years, but to have gone this far? Even I don’t think I could have done something like that.

So, as the rest of the guests returned to their seats as Caitlin-Larissa was escorted out by the security guards and Melissa-Caitlin along with her husband, Arthur, returned to their seats, I reached for my phone. I scrolled through the contact list, to the number I had called earlier that day.

Caitlin-Larissa stopped, just before the threshold. Harold let her right hand go as she answered the call.

“Vicky,” I whispered, “thanks for doing this for me. I know it wasn’t easy. But now I know the truth.”

“You know I’d do anything for you. Are you sure you want to leave it like this?”

“It’s for the best.”

“So, how long do you think it’s going to take you to bail me out?”

“Judging from how this reception is going, I’d say two hours tops.”

“Looking forward to it, Cait.”

I ended the call and packed my phone away.

Despite everything, Larissa had done it. She had gotten away with it all. Her master plan had worked. But whereas anger might have consumed me four years back, I felt almost nothing now. Arthur and Larissa, or as Melissa as she was now known, deserved each other.

And I wished them all the happiness.

They were going to need it.

[tumbleweed-writes]

Scorned: Chibs Telford X Reader. Chapter Six

Previous Chapter HERE

slightly 18+

Chapter Six: A Step in the Right Direction

For Chibs Telford a relaxing Sunday off was rarely something he allowed himself to indulge in, especially once he’d taken the gavel. Club business never took time off even on Sunday.

To be honest in the past he’d not particularly cared to take time off. Time off meant time to focus on his own personal demons. 

When he’d first begun to prospect for SAMBEL back in Belfast he’d thrown himself into club business. 

The MC had provided him with an escape from his troubles. He’d been lost, afraid, and so full of rage and grief. The club had given him just the environment to channel all of those feelings.

He’d always been loyal when he found something to dedicate himself to. The cause had been his first act of loyalty. He’d thrown himself into the fight for a free Ireland and despite his loyalty and willingness to be a good soldier; Jimmy O’ had painted him as a loyalist to the crown. He’d used Chibs’ Scottish background, which Chibs had always been so proud of, and used it as an example as to why Chibs could not truly be a good fighter for the cause.

Although Jimmy had taken Chibs’ family and banned Chibs from the cause, demanding he leave Belfast never to return, Chibs had still somehow maintained a good working relationship with some members of the True IRA as well as the Belfast Sons.

His connections to the cause and the local MC had granted Chibs a safe haven of sorts. Without the club, Chibs would have been left truly on his own. He was quite sure he would have perished on his own after all the trauma and heartbreak he’d endured.

He’d taken the chance at a safe haven as an opportunity to be loyal once again. He’d been all for SAMBEL with zero hesitation on his part.

Then when SAMBEL and the True IRA had needed to strengthen a relationship with SAMCRO and ease tensions between the mother charter and the cause, Chibs had been all too willing to once again be a good soldier and offer to patch into the mother charter.

He’d been willing to leave the land he’d considered a home and branch out to the states. He’d been willing to work as a liaison of sorts between both of the MCs and the cause.

He’d been miserable of course, being in the states so far from everything he’d loved. 

Charming, California had been too hot and too sunny. The food had upset his stomach. No one understood his accent. He’d longed for the family he’d lost all the more. At least in Belfast he’d been able to sneak the occasional glimpse of his Kerrianne. In Charming his baby was an ocean away. 

Clay and Gemma had been welcoming of course, they both understood that Chibs was a valuable asset to the MC. 

Gemma in particular had looked out for him. She had been the Queen of SAMCRO of course. A good queen looked out for everyone in a kutte. She made sure every Son was welcome, especially one who could help club business go along smoothly. Chibs had been welcomed and cared for so dearly upon his arrival to Charming, and he’d adored Gemma for her care. They’d developed a close bond over the years. He’d been intensely loyal to her no matter how many times she screwed up. He’d thought that she was a true friend. 

Now of course, knowing what Chibs knew about the fallen Queen of SAMCRO, his memories of those times filled him with an unshakable sense of heartache.

He was certain he’d spend the remainder of his days questioning if Gemma’s horrible acts had canceled out any of the fondness he may have felt for her.

Chibs was quite certain he’d spend his life asking himself those same questions about several of the people he’d known over the years; Juice, Gemma, Clay, and several more people. He knew he’d always wonder if desperate awful acts of treachery would cancel out moments of closeness, friendship, and care. 

Memories of his past and those he’d lost haunted him. 

For those first few months he’d held the gavel he’d been overcome with an intense sense of loss and a determination to throw himself into the club. He’d been quite certain that loss and betrayal were destined to be the only companions he would ever truly know in this life at least.

He had tried to cope with the sense of despair he’d felt by throwing himself into the club; trying to step up and be the leader he needed to be. He had done his best to keep his head straight. He’d tried hard to avoid thinking about the sense of grief that had hung over his head like a dark cloud. He’d only allowed himself to grieve in moments where he was truly and totally alone. 

He’d lost so much and had felt the weight of disloyalty from those he had put so much faith in. He had been certain that this was just the human condition; loneliness. 

He’d not been able to comprehend feeling any sense of peace and partnership with anyone those first few draining horrible months he’d held the gavel.

Y/N had changed everything. She’d shown him that perhaps he was not truly meant to be alone with his grief. 

Y/N had been the reason he was so willing to have a moment of rest; even for a few hours.

That was how he’d found himself resting on his back on a picnic blanket just outside of Charming with Y/N lying by his side, her head resting against his chest.

They’d taken a long bike ride out to some land near SAMCRO’s cabin, the space large enough to provide the perfect private picnic spot. They’d stopped and grabbed a quick bite to eat along the way at a diner, before settling in their spot.

Chibs had managed to pack something for dessert, some fresh berries, a soft pound cake, and a few bottles of overly sweet lemonade that Chibs knew Y/N adored. 

He’d be lying of course if he tried to claim he did not have a sweet tooth himself, even if he might try to claim the spread of sweet treats was more for Y/N’s benefit than his own.

The dessert picnic under the warm spring sunshine was a pleasant way to spend a Sunday even if Chibs knew that a burner cell was resting in his kutte pocket perfectly capable of interrupting his peace if the club called.

For the moment though Chibs was perfectly content resting and enjoying a romantic moment of peace with his ol lady.

Y/N herself found that she was quite at peace as well.

Before Chibs Telford, Y/N could never picture herself enjoying a long ride on a motorcycle.

She’d never been on the back of a bike before Chibs had coaxed her onto the back of his.

She’d been beyond nervous of course, the first time he’d talked her into getting on the back of his bike. She’d gone with her gut though telling her anxiety to take a backseat. She’d trusted him enough to put aside her fear and climb onto the back of the bike.

She’d quickly realized that there was nothing to fear. From her first ride she was hooked. She had fallen in love with the bike just as much as she’d loved the man who rode it. 

She had found of course that she had to buy the wardrobe to enjoy the occasional bike ride. 

Her usual choice of vintage dresses didn’t exactly make smart nor sensible attire for being on the back of a Harley, though she occasionally was guilty of shoving on a pair of leggings under her dresses and taking a ride with Chibs, much to his grumbling about her possibly being cold and not as protected as he’d prefer. He’d always been quick to comment that while he might love the dresses she tended to gravitate towards, he did not love them enough to risk her getting any abrasions across her delicate skin if he were to ever accidentally take down the bike on the road.

So, for Chibs’ sanity and to put a stop to any grumbles from him, she had found that she had to invest in a helmet and a few more pairs of jeans along with a decent pair of boots.

It had been an investment she’d been willing to make. It was a change from her usual wardrobe preferences. 

She’d found that she had to make an effort to include articles of clothing that Chibs deemed road-safe along with her usual choice in clothing without losing her sense of self.

She knew it sounded frivolous but she did hold her own personal sense of style near and dear to her heart.

She knew exactly why her personal sense of fashion was so important to her. 

She’d married quite young and her ex husband had been controlling about what she wore. Of course, Y/N being only eighteen when she’d married had wrongly believed that her older husband was trying to help her be an adult.

She had not noticed the red flags back then; how her husband who had been in his twenties had only seemed to hang around high school kids more often than not. She’d not noticed that it was inappropriate that he was hitting on her at sixteen and seventeen when he was legally old enough to drink. She had not realized that it was beyond wrong for him to be buying her friends and her alcohol, always reassuring them that he was “cool with the cops” so they could all party with him. 

She had been naive enough and flattered that an older guy liked her, that she’d listened to anything that Ezra told her when it came to how to behave like a grown woman. He’d told her to be grateful that he was giving her the time of the day, and reminded her that she could go back to dating immature guys her own age if she didn’t like what he had to say. She’d been so caught up in the desire to be accepted by someone she viewed as being so mature. 

Of course now she knew that Ezra had been quite immature. He’d been a bit of a loser to be honest when she really thought about it. He’d been too hot tempered and too selfish to keep women his own age interested in him. He’d liked that she was naive and willing to step in line for him. He liked having his way and couldn’t stand a partner who was equal to him. 

She had fallen for his idea of what it meant to be an adult for far too long. 

She had believed that adults didn’t wear cute dresses or quirky little accessories. She believed that having fun with one's clothing was a sign of childishness. Ezra Whitlock had convinced her that she must dress more sensibly and more importantly should cover up a little more.

He didn’t like other guys seeing her body so she had worn baggy sweaters hiding away from the world to keep the peace. 

As an older woman she of course now saw that her ex husband had dampened any sense of personal style in her as a way to control her and break her spirit.

He’d controlled so much about her life. He’d talked her out of attending college despite promising her that she could go once they married. Every aspect of her life had been lived to keep the peace with him and avoid being lashed out at by him; from what she ate, to what she did in her spare time, to what she wore on her body.

Once she’d gotten divorced she had realized that she was free to be the woman she wanted to be. She had found that she wanted to celebrate her freedom through the simple act of wearing things that made her happy. She had been free to express herself through her clothing; she'd taken full advantage buying vintage dresses and even old dress patterns and fabric and having fun with it.

She had grown into the person she wanted to be at least by her appearance. She had found that having fun with her clothing did not make her any less of an adult.

She could admit that Chibs’ compliments about her choice in clothing had made her adore him. His fondness of her sweet little dresses, heart shaped sunglasses, and adoration of all things deemed cute, had made her fall for him all the harder.

The sense of adoration she felt for him felt all the more palatable at the moment lying by his side not a worry in her head. 

She felt a slight pleased shudder run through her body as Chibs managed to run a hand up the top she was wearing, his hand caressing the small of her back, the cold of his rings a strange mix with the warmth of his hand.

She felt the soft moan leave her lips despite her best attempts to quieten it. He of course picked up on the tiny noise quick to speak, not missing his chance. “Ye keep makin noises like that then I’m goin to be tempted to get ye under this blanket and outta those clothes.”

She rolled her eyes fast to respond. “I’m not doing that out here in the open.”

“Well I was goin to suggest goin behind a tree or something a wee bit more private.” Chibs was fast to reply, Y/N rolling her eyes in response.

He managed to let his hand wander down to her backside giving her denim clad bottom a firm squeeze she chuckling at the action. “You know, I’ve kind of always assumed you were a boob guy given how much attention you give my breasts, but with as much time as you spend squeezing my butt, I’m thinking you might be an ass guy.”

“Oh, I like every part of ye, Love. Pretty sure I made that clear. Haven’t heard any complaint from ye bout my treatment of both those features. Ye happen to like it when I spank ye jus as much a ye like when I suck yer tits.” He remarked smirking at the flush the comment brought to her cheeks.

He could admit he got a bit off on making her blush. She was not the most experienced lover he’d ever had and he would not trade it for the world. There was something quite thrilling about knowing she trusted him to show her new experiences in the bedroom. There had been something quite delightful about helping her experience new positions and showing her new ways to feel good. He’d felt honored that she loved him and trusted him enough to allow him to show her a few new things in the bedroom.

She spoke a small huff leaving her lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“Aye, but I am the insufferable lad that made ye moan my name last nigh. As I recall I ate ye out until ye were a shakin mess, then ye rode my cock jus the way I love, good and hard takin every inch like I was made fer ye.” He was fast to reply the comment only making her cheeks flush all the more.

She shook her head knowing that he was not entirely lying. She knew that two could easily play at that game though even if her breath hitched at his description of exactly what they’d done the night before. “Can you blame me? You fill me up so good I can’t help but to be vocal. Pretty sure your dick is made for me, Filip.”

The comment earned her a moan from his lips, he pressing those lips to hers, his voice low a tinge of lust hanging in them. “Yer makin it hard not to find that tree I was teasin bout.”

She shook her head knowing that she would most likely be in for it the moment he got her home, and she personally had zero issue with this knowledge. 

Chibs Telford definitely knew what he was doing in the bedroom and she felt lucky enough to be the only one who got the privilege of reaping those benefits. 

She sighed, her eyes closing ever so slightly as he returned to rubbing her back; she allowed herself to relax against him and enjoy the warm sunshine against her skin and the clear blue sky above them.

It was a beautiful day and Chibs knew he had no reason to feel any sense of dread, but the nature of his world meant that there was usually an edge just below the surface of any sense of peace.

He could admit he had a lot on his mind lately. Club business weighed on his heart more than he’d like especially given the attempts to get the club out of the red financially. Redwoody Productions was still a slow work in progress. They were new enough on the scene that it was a long climb up to building any sense of true profit. He feared that the odd jobs the club had been taking on on the side weren’t going to be enough to be sustainable forever if the porn business did not pan out as well as they hoped.

He’d be lying if he wasn’t also troubled by the attempts at disruption to Y/N’s and his relationship lately given Jarry’s apparent interest in his love life.

Though it had been quiet lately concerning the sheriff, Chibs could not shake the sense that the quiet was only temporary. 

He knew Althea Jarry enough to know that she didn’t take no for an answer. She took rejection even rougher. He had a horrible sense that his warnings to the sheriff to back off his ol lady were falling upon deaf ears. Though Jarry had been scarce lately; he feared that she would pounce out at any moment ready to ruin the only sense of peace he’d known in so long. 

He did not have long to dwell on the thought as Y/N spoke, apparently sensing the tension building his body as he allowed his brain to focus too hard on his worries. “What are you thinking about? I can hear your brain buzzing.”

He snorted at the comment, not knowing how she always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to something troubling him even when he tried to hide it.

He spoke the lie sliding through his lips easily. “Jus hopin the beginning of our week is more peaceful than the beginning of las week, Love.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I do not want to wake up to Montez bleeding all over my front steps again. I’m just thankful he didn’t get blood all over my sofa. Even if you threatened him that if he bled on it he’d been fronting a cleaning bill, I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy my sofa knowing someone bled all over it.” Y/N remarked remembering what they’d woken up to in the middle of the night the previous week.

Chibs nor she had expected to wake up to a loud persistent banging at her front door in the middle of the night. 

Chibs of course had gone into protection mode; finding his gun and being ready to defend if needed as he’d made his way to her front door clad in boxer briefs, sleep clouding his vision even if his body was on high alert. Y/N had followed him, despite his protests, holding the only weapon she owned; an iron baseball bat.

He’d only lowered his gun when he’d peeked through the peep hole at her front door realizing their wake up call had come from one of his brothers who was bleeding from what appeared to be a nasty head wound.

Allesandro Montez had at least had the sense to be apologetic about the rude awakening even as he explained the source of his wound.

Y/N had willingly played nurse as Chibs had fished out a first aid kid he kept at her place and stitched up the gash across Montez’ foreheadl. The younger man had awkwardly explained to Chibs and Y/N that a croweater he’d been entertaining pretty frequently had taken their hookups a little too seriously and had been none too pleased to find Montez in bed with a few girls from Redwoody productions.

Although Montez was a loyal and dedicated Son, the former road captain had a tendency to juggle multiple women at once even though it landed him in situations much like the one he’d found himself in standing on Y/N’s front porch.

Now that he had settled down in Charming and was not constantly jumping from clubhouse to clubhouse, Montez had found that juggling women was a little harder in one location versus on the road where his flings could remain unaware of one another. 

Chibs had willingly stitched Montez up and Y/N had maybe scolded the man just a little pointing out he was lucky the pissed off croweater had not had access to something a little more deadly than a vodka bottle. 

Montez had at least taken Y/N’s scolding with good humor knowing she scolded because she cared. 

Chibs might have become the father of SAMCRO but Y/N had found herself sinking into the role of mom more often than she realized.

The men of SAMCRO had learned that Y/N was not one to shy away from expressing disapproval if she thought they had done something truly brainless. If any woman other than Chibs Telford’s ol lady expressed that kind of gentle scolding they might be less inclined to put up with it.

Montez had reassured Y/N that he had it handled and had slept on her sofa receiving stern orders from Chibs not to bleed on the sofa or the quilt Y/N had provided him, unless he wanted to front a dry cleaning bill.

It had been a typical Sunday night for Chibs and Y/N. 

Y/N had learned the hard way that the boys of SAMCRO knew just where to find Chibs at any time of night. So, late night visits to her apartment had become a regular occurrence.

She’d become accustomed to making late night cups of coffee and playing good hostess even when she was annoyed to have her sleep interrupted.

Y/N spoke repeating a phrase similar to what she’d told Montez that night. “He’s lucky that girl didn’t have access to a gun or a knife. He’s going to piss off the wrong girl one of these days and you’re going to be stitching up something far worse than a little gash on the skull”.

 Chibs sighed, shaking his head. “Aye, I’m fraid he’ll never learn though.”

“Hey, you learned.” She teased a huff leaving his lips.

“Aye, but I wasn’t dumb nough to make the croweaters think it was somethin more than it was back when I was playin that game. I didn’t tend to take the same lass to bed nough times to make her think I was lookin to settle down. Never gave em false hope I was lookin fer an ol lady. Didn’t have any interest in settlin down and made sure they knew it” Chibs admitted, the conversation admittedly making him nervous.

He was quite sure most people might feel awkward discussing past flings with a current romantic partner. He was just relieved his ol lady had seemed to accept that his past sexual escapades were nothing to get too jealous over. It was in the past after all and he’d been all too thrilled to be a one woman man for her.

She let out a soft sigh, her curiosity getting the best of her. “What changed? When did you decide that you might want to settle down?”

Chibs was fast to reply the answer coming to him easily. “Honestly…got sick of the meaningless shite with croweaters…easy sex started to feel empty. It hit me that I wanted somethin deeper…Fer a long while I told myself it was hopeless. Figured I wasn’ goin to find someone, figured I was too damn old…too deep in the life. Shite with Fiona made things a wee bit complicated mos of the time anyhow. Most lasses weren’t too keen on datin a lad who was still legally married. Even after Fiona and I officially ended shite…I jus figured I’d lost my chance to settle down and find someone. Shite with Jarry was its own problem.”

He paused, noticing the tension in his ol lady’s body at the mention of the sheriff. He was fast to speak again, finding the words, his response so smooth he was almost impressed with it himself. “Then I met ye. Realized shite wasn’ so hopeless fer me. Knew it really was time to settle down cause I’d found the righ lass. When ye know ye found the perfect ol lady, ye know ye gotta shape up. Ye were special nough that I realized I was ready to leave the meaningless shite behind.”

She couldn’t deny the warm sense of adoration that spread over her at the words, her heart aching she wanting to admit that she had been convinced that her own situation was hopeless before she’d met him. 

She’d spent so long fleeing from any sign her ex husband might have found her that she’d been convinced she would not find a romantic partner that she could truly settle down with. 

Chibs Telford had changed everything.

She bit back the words knowing that her past with her ex was always a tense subject. It never failed to make her feel anxious. She always got the sense that it made Chibs feel a bit anxious as well or at the very least a bit tense. She knew he worried enough as it was. She never liked making him have yet another thing to fret over. She did not want to feel an ounce of anxiety, not today when she was lying by Chibs Telford’s side enjoying the warm sun and sweet berries. 

She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as she managed to speak knowing she should say more but she knew discussions of her own sense of how hopeless she’d once felt could be saved for another time. “I love you.”

“Love ye too, more than ye know.” He did not hesitate to reply soaking up the words they making him feel a sense of warmth he did not think he’d ever be lucky enough to feel in this lifetime at least. 

She spoke, deciding to lean into humor. “So, you’re saying if we want to stop Montez from interrupting our rest with another consequence of his own actions then we have to find him an ol lady.”

Chibs snorted at the comment, shaking his head a heavy sigh leaving him. “Lad ain’ settlin down anytime soon m’love. Pretty sure we’ll patch him up again sometime due to some lass gettin a wee bit pissed at him.”

She shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Guess that’s the price we have to pay…me living too close to the clubhouse. The guys have realized you’re always in walking distance any time of the day and night.”

Chibs chuckled at the comment knowing it was the truth. He’d long ago begun spending just about every night at Y/N’s little apartment right down the street from the old Scoops and Sweets storefront.

If he was not at her place then she was sleeping by his side in his dorm at the Sons clubhouse. 

They did not go a night without sleeping by one anothers side if they could help it.

He felt the words dance around on the tip of his tongue, unable to resist the urge to hold them back even if he worried that he might be pushing for too much at a pace she was not prepared to take. “There migh be a small solution to me bein in walkin distance.”

She raised a brow at the comment, lifting her head to gaze up at him as he spoke again. “I got a place, uh a rental. Lived there fer a while now, lease migh be up soon. We could always find a place together, ye know move in together.”

He cleared his throat fearing her silence meant the worst. He was fast to speak again. “If yer worried bout breaking the residential part of yer lease then I’m sure I can talk to Jacob Hale fer ye. Ye can always sublease or some shite…Brooke could take over yer apartment’s lease. Give her a safe place to start out renting…then we can get somethin together, not too far from the clubhouse, but far nough to make it less temptin to have late night visitors so frequently. Ye know get a place big nouh fer my Kerrianne to come visit us when she wants and space fer more than us.”

He paused his cheeks turning slightly pink at the indication behind what more than us might possibly mean for their future. 

He took a deep breath fully prepared to be told that he was being foolish for ever thinking she might be ready to take that next step in their relationship. Perhaps it was too soon to hope for living together.

He was taken by surprise as she leaned up her lips brushing across his cheek a genuine smile crossing her features. “I would love to live with you. Brooke probably would be able to take over my lease and I don’t think Hale will care as long as shit is getting paid on time. I like the idea of having something bigger than my apartment…having more space would be nice.”

She paused easily remembering conversations they’d had previously when Chibs had been willing enough to discuss the past. “We could do a lot with more space…you did say that something you missed was Sunday night dinners for the club…if we had a bigger place then we could maybe start having people over for dinners.”

“Aye, I’d love that.” Chibs replied, unable to deny the warm bittersweet sensation washing over him. It was a feeling he often had when it came to the happier memories he had of the club when things hadn’t been so violent and so chaotic.

He knew that perhaps returning to some of the traditions that had built those happier memories might be cathartic. He had a feeling the guys would probably appreciate a good meal on a Sunday night especially after dealing with any hangovers lingering from Saturdays after a Friday night party.

He couldn’t deny that he loved the idea of his ol lady playing hostess to the club welcoming the people they loved into their home.

Y/N cleared her throat daring to say the words. “We could find a big enough place in our budget that has some space for Kerrianne to come stay whenever she wants. We might even be able to find a little extra room for the future… some space for more than us.”

She felt her own cheeks darken slightly, apparently having the same reaction to the indication of what more than us might mean for their future.

He managed to speak, unable to stop himself from asking he was almost certain she would change her mind in an instant once she realized just what this next step would mean for them. “Yer sure ye want to live with me lass? Yer ready?”

“I am absolutely sure, Filip. I can’t think of anything that would make me happier.” She reassured him that warm sense of adoration easily washing out any bitterness over memories he might have been having over the Sunday night dinners of the past.

He pressed his lips to hers the kiss growing deep easily a sense of comfort washing over him.

He knew this was a huge step in their relationship and it was not one he’d ever thought he’d take with anyone.

He was so ready for it though. He hadn’t been lying to her; he knew he’d found the right ol lady to settle down with.

===================================

Sheriff Althea Jarry tried not to look too eager when the young rookie officer popped his head into her office after giving the door a firm knock.

The young man spoke always a bit nervous around the sheriff. Jarry had to wonder if the man was simply nervous around authority figures or just women in general. “You have a call from some police department in Alaska. They want to know if I can transfer their call to your line?”

She kept her voice even hoping that any sense of excitement she felt was not evident in her tone. “Transfer the call. I’ve been expecting it.”

She straightened her spine, her heart rate speeding up as the officer left, closing the office door behind him.

She took a deep breath keeping her voice crisp and professional as she answered her ringing phone. “Sheriff Althea Jarry.”

“Sheriff Jarry. This is Joseph Adams, I received a request from your office for information about one of our former residents.” The voice sounded out on the other end of the line, the caller sounding quite young.

Jarry rose a brow, sensing that the man seemed a little green. She could sense a hint of anxiety in his voice. “Yes, I know its a long shot but I was hoping you might have some information about a former resident of your town. She’s recently moved to our area and our department has some concerns. Are you familiar with the name Y/N Y/LN?”

The silence on the other end of the line was concerning and Jarry was about to feel her hopes be dashed thinking she’d hit a dead end. 

She felt her heart perk up though as the voice sounded out finally. “I am familiar with the name. This is a small town sheriff. Ms. Y/L/N was a few years older than me of course, so I don’t know too much about her. Pretty sure she went to school with my older brother.”

Jarry rolled her eyes at the comment knowing it was better than nothing. Jarry had done a bit of her own research into the town Y/N apparently hailed from. In her opinion it was not much. Y/N’s hometown made Charming look like a sprawling metropolitan area.

She spoke, keeping her voice even. “Anything you can provide would be greatly beneficial to my department.”

“I do know she got into a little trouble when she was a teenager. Nothing too exciting, some underage drinking and a little pot, but that’s most of the kids around these parts. State troopers and the local department handled it.” Adams replied Jarry letting out a small huff realizing that the criminal record was not as juicy as she’d been hoping for.

The young sheriff spoke again on the other end of the line. “I do know she took off about a decade ago, we kind of expected her back in town after her grandfather passed about a year ago, but she didn’t show. Poor old man left her everything. Pretty sure his lawyer sorted out her inheritance, not that she probably needed the money. I do know her parents died back when she was a kid, left a pretty hefty life insurance policy and a trust fund behind for her.”

Jarry twisted her lips taking in the information. She made a mental note to see if she could find a way to look into Y/N’s finances. 

She sighed sitting back in her desk chair hoping she could manage to dig for more information. “Anything else you can tell me about her?”

“She left town pretty soon after her divorce, things got nasty. There was a lot of gossip floating around about it at the time. It was a pretty big scandal given her ex husband’s family. They own our biggest employer in town. So, there was a lot of talk when she filed for divorce from him. Her ex husband was pretty broken up about it. My brother ran around with him back when they were kids. I don’t know too much about the details other than there were a lot of accusations being thrown around by Y/N. Ezra Whitlock is a good man though, his family has done a lot for this town. No one took her seriously, pretty sure it was just some lovers' spats that got out of hand. The divorce got settled pretty quick, I think his family just wanted to get it over with. I don’t know what to make of all the crazy accusations she was throwing around. There was a lot of money involved given his family and given her own trust fund. Money can make people pretty crazy. They were both pretty young, so I’m sure that didn’t help matters. The poor guy is still pretty hung up on her if you ask me.” The young officer offered this information, sparking Jarry’s interest. 

She held back the desire to dig for more information on this front knowing she could not seem too eager too quick. She had to pretend that this was a professional interest after all.

She frowned as Adams spoke again. “What do you think she’s gotten herself into sheriff? You said your department has some concerns?”

She spoke up hoping that she was playing her cards right. “My department has reason to believe that Ms. Y/L/N has taken up with a local outlaw motorcycle club that has been a thorn in my department's side for a long while now. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the club; the Sons of Anarchy. I do believe they have a charter operating in your state as well as several other charters across the country and overseas.”

She scowled as the young man spoke up. “I don’t really picture Y/N as the criminal type. She might have thrown around some wild accusations during her divorce, but I don’t remember her being the criminal type.”

Jarry kept her voice as even as possible though she knew there was an edge in it. “A lot can change in about a decade, Officer Adams. I am certain Ms. Y/L/N is involved deeply in this club. She’s dating the founding charter president. That makes her the first lady of the outlaws.”

She paused, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “The feds have tried to bust these guys but they’ve failed. This club has a history of some pretty nasty business; gun running, drugs, prostitution, murder, and who knows what else. I’m just trying to clean up my town. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated.”

She paused, gritting her teeth at the silence she was met with. She could sense the hesitation over the line.

She decided to take advantage of the man’s possible newbie status lying through her teeth. “I think that your department would benefit from assisting me. If I am able to build a case against my local charter, I’m sure the feds would be interested in expanding investigations. You might be able to build your own case against the Sons charter in your state. That kind of case can be favorable career wise. If I can clean up my town, I can help the feds take on the remaining charters. I am sure they would love to work with you if you’re starting out at the base level of this case with me.”

She was almost certain that the situation was hopeless. Perhaps the young officer on the other end of the line was not the ambitious type?

She felt a slow smile cross her lips as Joseph Adams finally spoke. “What can I do to help?”

“I do know that Ms. Y/L/N has a juvenile record. I know its sealed. Any peeks into it might be helpful for me though. I need to know every detail about anyone who is involved with the club.” Jarry dared to suggest cringing hoping that she was not playing her cards too hard.

She knew peeking into sealed records was a huge ethics violation and was not entirely legal. She was hoping that the young officer was green enough to dare to be risky though.

“I don’t know if I can manage much on that end. I can maybe at least send anything that we might have. I may be able to pass your number along to a few folks around town that knew Y/N. They could give you some background on her, see if there’s anything useful there.” Adams offered Jarry, she smiling all the more.

“That would be wonderful. Like I said, any help would be beneficial to my case.” Jarry replied this going far better than she’d hoped. It seemed Adams was naive enough to give her just about anything she asked for without asking too many questions. 

She spoke again, a small sigh leaving her. “I appreciate your cooperation, Officer Adams. I would also appreciate it if you could keep our working together discreet. I am hoping to build this case with as few officers involved as possible. I think that’s the mistake the feds made on their end, too many hands in the process.”

“Of course, I will tell anyone I’m passing your number on to how important it is to keep discreet.” Adams replied, Jarry smiling all the more.

She relaxed against her desk chair as she rattled off her number, a smug sense of satisfaction washing over her. This was a step in the right direction. 

She was another step closer to discovering every little thing about the woman who had stolen Chibs Telford’s affections.

She knew that destroying Y/N would destroy Chibs and that would destroy SAMCRO. 

If Jarry could not have Chibs Telford then she would make sure he lost everything he held near and dear to his heart. 

[eyeliner-and-c1garettes]

“Jimmy only love me when he wanna get high

Your mom called, I told her you're fucking up big time”

- A&W by Lana Del Rey

[ihavenotits-andimustscream]

yeah absolutely this (i think they deleted it) my gender identity and sexuality as a trans woman and a lesbian was used as punchlines for jokes no wonder i was repressed and invalidated so long ace ventura sends me into fits of rage now hell hath no fury like a decades closeted womans jilted scorn

[the-daughter-of-lilith]

When avoidant people demonize others they barely know, it becomes a process of self-sabotage. It's sloppy behavior when you're incapable of transparency or direct conversation. You aren't having a positive impact and you inevitably become the monster you claim to oppose.

I've seen it time and time again. I've politely confronted people about their concerns and they're incapable of elaborating or responding. They've claimed to be an "ally" in a world of social justice, yet make life more confusing for those they claim to support. They want to be seen as a "hero" without any of the internal work it takes to become one.

The chances of someone being preyed upon increase when you decide to avoid and/or shun anyone who associates with those you claim to be concerned about. People are left fighting for their autonomy alone, with no support because you cared more about your "image" than actually making a difference.

You made your bed, now lie in it.

[x-heesy]

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗:

I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sʜᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ

Aʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇғᴇɴᴅ

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ ғᴏʀ?

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ?

Aʟʟ ɪs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴇʀ

Aʟʟ ɪs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

Hᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ

Hᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sʜᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ

Aʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇғᴇɴᴅ

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ ғᴏʀ?

Wʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ?

Tɪᴍᴇ ɪs ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ʟᴇғᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ

Wʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇ

Fᴜɴɴʏ ʜᴏᴡ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

Fᴀʟʟs ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪsɪᴏɴs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Yᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ I ɢᴀᴠᴇ

Scorned by Rawthang @len0r