Angela stared at the cardboard box Skeeter and Bones had lifted into the older cremator. It was a simpler machine that allowed for the door to be kept open while the flames burned. Skeeter typically used it when the family wanted to watch or if he was doing it for free since the newer oven was bigger and used more gas. In all honesty, she liked the older one better. It was a nicer way to send off a loved one than to lock them away in the hulking mass of metal next to it.

"That him?" the gruff voice made her jump.

She turned to find Opie standing at the entrance, a bloodstained denim cut in his hands. She was always curious as to why Piney had chosen denim over leather, but she'd never worked up the guts to ask him. Now she'd never know. "Yeah," she answered, playing with the cuff of the thick fire-proof glove she was wearing.

"Start it up," he said leaning against the nearby table.

She nodded, flicking the appropriate switches and taking a step back as she watched the flames start up. They both sat back in silence for a moment, just watching the flames lick at the box. "You want me to go?" she asked. She wanted to stay for Piney, but she also knew Opie was a very private man. If he wanted or needed time alone, she'd give him that.

Opie shrugged a shoulder in response. In all honesty, as long as she was quiet, he didn't give a shit what she did. He knew she and Piney had some sort of strange uncle-niece relationship, and if she wanted to say goodbye, he wasn't going to stop her. The moment she started talking or asking him things, he'd kick her out, but he had a feeling she didn't want to talk either. He knew this was the second body of a Son she had to burn, and he was willing to bet it'd started to make her nervous as to who was next. She didn't have to worry, though. His father's death was on Clay, and as far as he knew, Clay had no reason to kill Happy or Juice. Her loved ones were in the clear for now.

She hopped on to the table next to him, swinging her legs back and forth as she stared at the flames. This was the second time this week she'd watched someone she cared about burn. True, she and Piney hadn't been nearly as close as her and Kozik, but she had still cared about the old man. Piney had helped her through those long fourteen months when the boys had been inside providing her with a shoulder to lean on and wisdom when she needed it. She honestly didn't know what she would've done during that time without his wise words, jokes, and his ever present bottle of tequila.

They weren't alone for very long. A few minutes later, the door swung open and Unser stepped in, his dark eyes sweeping over Angela before settling on Opie. Angela knew that look; it was one that told her she wasn't wanted. She slipped off the table, patting Opie's arm comfortingly. "You let me know if you need anythin', Ope," she said softly.

"Thanks," he muttered, without turning his head.

She squeezed his arm and headed towards the door, nodding her hello to Unser before leaving the room. She leaned against the doorway, pulling out her phone to see if Juice sent her anything. Save for a several missed calls, voicemails, and texts message from Mel, there was nothing. She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. Worry twisted through her gut as she thought about Juice. What more could the feds want with him? The longer they detained him, the more suspicious it looked, and the more likely he was going to get caught. She didn't like to think about what would happen if one of his brothers caught him.

The sound of a motorcycle caught her attention. Her eyes swept over the lot, praying for it to be the right bike. She spotted it easily and as she recognized the rider, her heart sank; it was Jax. He nodded to her, a concerned look in his eyes. "Hey Ang," he greeted, looking behind her at the door to the crematorium. "What's going on?"

"Um...Ope's inside," she stated vaguely. She was glad Opie had at least called Jax to be there with him. She was willing to bet Unser wasn't hurting more than he was helping in there, and Ope needed a good friend at a time like this. "I think you should ask him."

"You helpin' us out with somethin'?" he asked, confusion written all over his face.

Angela nodded. She'd leave the big reveal to Opie. If the big man hadn't told his best friend on the phone, she wasn't about to tell him now. It was clear Opie wanted to tell Jax in person, and she wasn't about to spoil that. "Just...talk to Ope. You'll get it."

"All right. Thanks," he said awkwardly. He patted her shoulder as he opened the door and headed inside. From her place by the door, she could hear the sadness in Jax's voice as he talked to Ope, the heartfelt condolences. Opie's voice stayed flat, emotionless. The tone of it put Angela on edge, something wasn't right there. Whatever happened to Piney, it was clear Opie blamed it on the club, and perhaps, a little on Jax.

Unser stepped out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him. He looked her over as if he thinking of what to say. "Thanks for all this, sweetheart," he said awkwardly.

She shrugged a shoulder. "Piney was a friend. I'm sad to see him go."

The old police chief nodded, gesturing over to his car. "Shall we give 'em some space?"

"Sure," she answered, unhitching herself from the wall and following Unser towards his truck. She leaned against the front of it, her eyes on the crematorium door, arms crossed over her chest. She thought about the week they were having. First someone tried to kidnap Tara, then they lost Kozik, now someone gunned down Piney. They all had to be connected somehow. Leaving Kozik's situation out, she tried to think of something that tied Tara and Piney directly together. It didn't take long for her to find it. "This is about the letters," she stated in disbelief. She looked over at Unser. "Isn't it?"

Unser hesitated briefly, reluctant to admit it. He knew it was none of her business, but he also knew she was one of the few people still standing unharmed who knew about the letters. Maybe if he told her about Piney, her self-preservation instinct might kick in and she might get the hell out of Charming before something bad happened to her. "Ain't the cartel that shot Piney. That's for sure."

"Shit," she cursed, raking a hand through his hair. Her mind reeling as she came to one simple conclusion. This was Clay. It was all Clay. From Tara's abduction attempt to Piney's murder. All over a small bundle of old letters. "What the hell is wrong with this club? They're supposed to be brothers!"

He chuckled at her outburst. He understood where her frustration came from. As much as the Sons emphasized their brotherhood and loyalty to the club, it didn't take much for them to turn on each other. "Where do you want me to start?"

Angela didn't see anything funny about it. She stared down at her feet, torn between the urge to cry and ram her fist into the truck's hood. Her hormones betrayed her though and a tear slid down her cheek. She wiped at it angrily, hoping Unser didn't see it. He hadn't, he was too busy lighting up his joint. He took a long drag before offering it to her. "No thanks," she muttered, holding up her hand in a "stop" position.

"You sure? Helps take the edge off a bit."

"I'm aware of that," she said on a nod. Weed had never been her go to drug of choice; that was Juice's thing. What she was really craving was a shot of tequila, but she wasn't dumb enough to give into that craving. She'd read the studies and knew what alcohol could do to a growing baby.

He chuckled again. "Right. You got that weed shop downtown, huh? Place has good shit."

"We sure do," she agreed, trying her best to be friendly. She was sick of this stupid small talk and really just wanted to go somewhere and sit in peace for awhile to regroup. "This is gonna take an hour or two. I'm gonna head inside. Get some of the paperwork done. You good out here?"

Unser nodded, waving her off. "Go 'head. I'll wait."

The timer on Angela's phone went off, signalling that the oven was ready to be turned off. With a heavy sigh, she pushed away from her desk and headed down the stairs to the crematorium. She got there just as Opie was yelling at Jax, only catching the tail end of their conversation before a loud shot rang out through the night. Instinctively, she ducked, though she knew the shot hadn't been aimed at her. It was one thing Happy had hammered into her head from a young age; you hear a gunshot, you get down. Getting back on her feet, she ran outside. Looking around the lot, she spotted Jax trying his best to start Unser's old truck, but the engine would not turn over. Everyone looked as though they were in one piece, thankfully. Not that she could say the same about Jax's bike.

Digging through her pockets, she pulled out her keys. "Jax!" she shouted, catching his attention.

He looked over at her, a wild, worried look in his eyes. Upon seeing her keys, he held out a hand. She tossed them at him, pointing over to the little Mazda. He caught them easily and sprinted towards her car, pulling out of the drive with a screech of the tires. She held her breath as she watched the taillights disappear, a bad feeling swirling around in the pit of her stomach. The little she'd heard of their conversation told her that Opie knew Clay was responsible for Piney's death. The man was out for blood now; Clay's. A sick part of her hoped Jax didn't get there in time to stop him. Clay needed to die. Like a lot.

----------------

Angela finished preparing Piney's ashes before getting in the hearse. It was odd driving the incredibly fancy, incredibly slow car, but she didn't mind it. People tended to stay out of it's way. She was happy, excited even to get home, take a long, hot shower, and at least try to get some sleep. It'd be hard without Juice there, but with the day she was having, she figured she could manage it somehow. Her hopes were dashed when she turned onto her street and saw Mel's rent-a-car sitting in her driveway. The lights of her house were on inside which meant either Hap had told him where her key was, or he'd found it himself. "Shit," she cursed to herself. He was the last thing she wanted to deal with at the moment.

Sucking in a deep breath, she headed up the walk and into the house. Mel was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, a picture in his hand. She could see the picture as she neared. It was one of him and Kozik on his graduation day, both of them with their matching grins spread across their faces. Her heart went out to him; he'd just lost the only person he had left in his blood family, and he obviously wasn't dealing with it well. "Hey Mel," she greeted, making him lift his head. His blue eyes were red tinged and watery, stubble had grown in on his usually clean shaven face. He looked exhausted. "You look like shit."

He smiled at her, shaking his head. "You've always had a way with words, Geela," he said on a scoff. Angela sat down next to him, keeping a considerable distance between them. The distance made him feel even worse. There'd once been a time where she was so comfortable with him, she'd lay down and put her feet in his lap or rest her head on his shoulder. Now, she wouldn't even touch him. "Do you hate me?"

"No," she answered, honestly. He wasn't her favorite person at the moment, but she could never hate him. "You said some awful stuff this morning, though."

"I know," he said, raking his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. I just...losing Kozik and you in the same week is...tough. I don't know how to handle it."

Angela frowned, reaching out a hand and setting it on his back. "You didn't lose me, Melly," she assured him. "I'm right here."

"Yeah, with that stupid asshole," he said on a laugh. "God, Gee. You really know how to pick 'em, huh?"

She took her hand back. It was one thing to be nice to him when he was being nice, but she wasn't about to comfort him if he was going to trash talk Juice. "He's not an asshole. You attacked him. He defended himself. He's been doing his best to stay civil, and you keep antagonizing him."

"Big word, G," he commented on a smirk.

"Shut up, Melville," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "I'm trying to lecture you here."

Mel smiled. He hated his full name, but he loved the way she said it. "I know. I get it. I'm an asshole. I just...Hap said you were pregnant and...it threw me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Bit preoccupied," she answered, hinting at everything else that had gone on since they'd last seen each other.

"We talked on the phone just a few weeks ago. You couldn't have told me then?"

Angela sighed and raked a hand through her hair. "I hadn't told Juice yet. Wasn't about to tell you first."

"I never come first with you, do I?" he asked, his blue eyes pensive as they studied her face. "Even when we were together, you'd go to Hap and Koz first for everything. I hated that. I always felt like I had the bronze in your heart."

She smiled softly at the analogy. It wasn't true. She loved each men in her life differently. Juice may have won her heart, but she still loved Hap, Kozik, and Mel. That love was just different. "I'm sorry if you felt that way."

Mel shrugged a shoulder. "I don't even medal any more, do I?"

"Why do you think like that?" she asked, changing the subject, her tone frustrated. "Why are you obsessed with this...this order? You always have been. I don't get it. Life doesn't work that way, Mel! I don't make lists of who I love more like some eight year old kid. I love you all in different ways. That's all that should matter!"

"Because you're my number one, Gee!" he exclaimed, a little louder than he'd meant to. "Don't you get that? I've been...waiting for you to come back to me. I applied for a fellowship in Sacramento to be closer to you because I remember coming here and looking at this stupid town and thinking that it'd be a good place to start a family, raise kids, and I...I want that with you."

Angela blinked at him, truly speechless. She had never dreamed Mel's feelings for her went that deep. "It's not going to happen, Mel," she said, trying her best to break it to him easily. "I'm with Juice now. I'm having his kid."

He shook his head at her, laughing at himself. "I don't get what you see in him, Geela. I honestly don't. I can give you everything. Picket fence, a dog, hell, I'd raise his kid if that's what it took. I just...I want you, Gee."

"Raise his kid?" she exclaimed, standing up and stepping away from him. For some reason, the thought of that disgusted her. Did Mel really think it was that easy? That she'd just leave Juice because he suggested it? Leave him and take his child? What kind of woman did Mel think she was? "Are you crazy? I can't just do that to him! You think he'd let you do that?"

"He wouldn't have a choice, G!" he replied, standing up with her. "You're the mother! I'm sure you have enough shit on him to get full custody!"

Her mouth hung open as she tried to process what he was saying. He'd been thinking about this way too much. "Jesus Christ! Are you serious, Mel? You really think I would do that?"

He reached for her hands, grabbing them with his own. To be honest, he'd known she wouldn't, but he had to try or else risk losing her forever. "Yes! It's what you deserve, Gee. We could have a family. I can give you everything. I can make you happy."

She pulled her hands away from his as though she'd been stung. "No, Mel! You can't!" she shouted, taking a step back. "He makes me happy! He is great man, Mel. And I...I love him and he loves me."

"Oh does he? Where the hell is he now if he loves you so much, huh? Its pretty late. Shouldn't he be here?"

"He works too, asshole!"

"Right, with his band of brothers, huh? Probably out killing and torturing people! Very nice! Good environment for a child!"

"Shut up, Mel," she ground out, a warning in her tone.

"How can you love him, Geela?" he demanded. "You've seen what the club does to its members! Look at what happened to Kozik! What's happened to some of his brothers! The kidnapping, the killing! That's the life you're bringing your kid into! Is that what you want? You or your child being gunned down because of what daddy does?"

"No!" she shouted, her hands clenched into angry fists.

"Cause that's what's going to happen, Angela! That's what this life is about! Your cousin is a goddamn assassin, I would've thought you of all people would understand the fucking danger you're putting yourself in! Your kid in! Are you stupid? Is that what you want for your kid? He'll be lucky if he lives long enough to see his eighteenth birthday!"

Angela's fist shot out, catching him in the cheek. Happy had taught her not to slap, that it was a pussy move. He'd always said that if someone fucked with her, the best thing to ward them off was a wicked right hook. "Fuck you! You don't know shit about this life, Mel!"

It wasn't the first time she'd punched him like that. Usually he saw it coming and ducked, but this time, he'd been too deep inside his own thoughts to notice. "Jesus, Gee! Are you crazy?" he asked, testing his split lip and grimacing when his fingers came away stained red with his blood.

"Are you?" she shouted back. Her phone went off, the Jimi Hendrix song filling the air. She clenched her jaw shut. The weed shop and all of its problems was the last thing she wanted to deal with at this moment. "Shit! What now?" she exclaimed, grabbing it out of her pocket and pressing it to her ear. She ignored Mel's dark look as she answered it. "Yeah?"

"Miss Angie, I hate to bother you," Beth started, her voice shaking slightly. "I just wanted to let you know the dispensary's been raided. They took in Doctor Simon and Mr. Hazer. Juice may be next if he's around."

"Shit." Angela pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried her best to keep calm. She knew the raid was a cover for Juice. Something to protect him and was glad for it, though it was sure to be a pain in her ass later. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but the place is a mess. They took the marijuana and asked for the deeds. Your name never came up though, so I think you're okay."

She raked a hand through her hair and sighed. Of course, her name didn't come up. Juice had made sure her name wasn't on any legal documents in case something like this happened. He wanted to keep her out of trouble. "Thanks, Beth. Just lock up and go home. I'll deal with it later."

With a final goodbye, she ended the call and took a seat on the couch. She put her head in her hands. Running a hand over her face as she tried to keep it together. "Damn it," she exclaimed, kicking out at the table. She tried her best to breathe, to keep the tears at bay but was finding it hard when she felt like the whole world was crashing down on her shoulders. Everything was falling apart. "Shit."

Mel sighed, sitting down on the couch next to her and rubbing a hand down her back. "It's all right."

She tensed under his touch, quickly standing up and backing away from him. After everything he had said, just looking at him made her skin crawl. He did not get to pull the friend card now. Not after all that bullshit. "Just...go home, Mel," she said, shaking her head at him. She was done with fighting, had lost all her steam. Her words sounded choked even to her own ears and the tears in her eyes were making everything blurry. "Leave me alone."

"Gee..." he started, but she shook her head at him, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"Just go away! I don't need you!" she shouted, her hands shaking as she wiped at her eyes. She needed Juice or Kozik, someone who'd understand, who'd let her cry without having an ulterior motive. Both men were inaccessible to her now, and that made her feel even worse.

Mel stood, putting his hands in his pockets to keep him from reaching out to her. "Gee, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"Go home, Mel," she interrupted, her voice sterner this time. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold it together. She hated herself for crying in front of him. For being so weak and vulnerable. If she'd been in a normal frame of mind, she would've been able to hold everything in and just breathe, but with her hormones in the state they were in it was virtually impossible to do so. "Just go. Please."

He nodded once and headed for the door. He paused there to look back at her, his hand on the door knob. What he saw broke his heart. The way she was sitting, leaning forward with her arms wrapped around torso made her look small and almost broken. Her hair hid her face from view, but he knew she was crying or at least about to. "I'm always here if you need me, Gee. I may be an asshole, but if you call me I'll come running. Just know that."

To his surprise, she nodded. "Okay," she whispered, the world barely audible.

"See you later then?"

"Maybe," she answered, wiping at her eyes again. Deep down, she knew there was no way she'd ever be able to completely cut Mel out of her life. They had too much history for that. He was a pain in the ass and a complete dick, but she loved him the same way she loved Kozik. Not any more or any less.

Without another word, he walked out of the house, gently closing the door behind him. Once he was gone, Angela sprinted back to her bathroom, throwing up the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Apparently, her morning sickness only kicked in when she was at her wit's end, though it could've also been a mixture of her caffeine withdrawal and the crazy range of emotions that had just torn through her system. She sat back on the cold tile of the bathroom floor feeling absolutely miserable. Things were going from bad to worse. She wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Sucking in a deep breath, she got to her feet and sat down on the bed, grabbing Juice's pillow and pressing her face into it. She needed him then, as she always did when she was feeling weak. Mel's words played through her head: Where the hell is he now if he loves you so much? It wasn't fair of her to hold Juice's absence against him, it wasn't directly his fault after all, but waiting for him was starting to wear on her. She needed him, now more than ever, and where was he? Locked up in some cell, more for his own protection than anything else. Was this how she was going to raise her child? In a world where daddy only came home every once in awhile, and she'd have to explain where he was the rest of the time?

Angela closed her eyes and sighed, feeling terrible for the doubts that were filling her head. She loved Juice, and she knew he would do his best to be there for her and their child. It was just hard to feel reassured of it all when he wasn't there to ease her worry.

The next morning, she called Bones to see if he'd give her a ride back over to TM, so she could pick up her car. He arrived in his shitty little '95 Volkswagen Jetta that had seen much better days. The thing still had a tape player and the sounds of Led Zeppelin filled the car further proof that Bones was the little brother she'd always wanted.

"You're sad-mad," Bones stated, interrupting Angela's thoughts. "I can tell because you get all quiet and haven't once complained about how slow I'm going."

Angela raised her eyebrows and looked over at the speedometer. He was under the speed limit, something he knew drove her crazy. "Seriously, Boner. Can you at least go the speed limit?"

"See! Told ya. I was going ten a few minutes ago just to see if you'd notice," he answered on a laugh. He loved messing with his mentor like that. "What's goin' on?"

"Hormones," she said vaguely. "Sad-mad isn't a feeling, by the way."

He rolled his eyes at her. "It is when you're pregnant."

"What are you, the pregnancy guru? You're nineteen!"

Bones chuckled, shrugging a shoulder. "Just sayin'. How's the hearse run? I've wanted to drive that thing for weeks now, but Skeet won't let me near it. Said I can barely handle the van, why should he trust me with the hearse."

She was glad for the subject change. "It's bulky and slow. You'll love it, you damn turtle."

"You ever sleep in the back?"

Angela smirked. Back at the funeral home she'd worked at in Tacoma, she'd taken many naps in the back of a hearse to get away from her awful boss. With Skeeter, it wasn't really necessary. He didn't give a shit what she did as long as she finished her work on time. "Not here, but in Tacoma, yeah. All the time. Not the most comfortable place in the world, but its a great if you're avoiding your boss."

"Awesome. I'll keep that in mind," he said on a approving nod.

"You're going to go far in this industry, Boner," she commented. Most people would think sleeping in the back of a hearse was creepy, the fact that Boner seemed to think it was the coolest thing ever meant he was in the right field.

He grinned in response, hoping she was right. "Well with a teacher like you..." he started, turning into the TM parking lot and parking next to her little Mazda.

She rolled her eyes at him. "You're such a brown noser," she said, smiling as she got out of the car.

"Eureka! There's that smile!" he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly. "I knew I could get it outta ya!"

"Shut up and get back to work, Boner," she said, trying hard not to smile. In the five minute car ride from the funeral to TM, her young apprentice had successfully made her feel a hundred times better. She loved him for that. "Tell Skeeter I'll be over soon."

Boner nodded, starting up the engine again and driving out of TM at a painstakingly slow pace. She rolled her eyes at him as she slid into her car. Glancing over at the garage, she wasn't surprised to find it cordoned off with crime scene tape, blood on the ground. A message from Happy on her phone had told her what happened to Clay the night before. Apparently Opie's aim hadn't been as good as he'd hoped, though it had landed Clay in the ICU. A part of her wished Opie had aimed just a little better.

Happy's message had also given her specific instructions to meet them at the hospital as soon as she woke up, but she didn't want to. Waiting for someone you wished would die at a hospital was not something that sounded like fun at the moment. Instead, she decided to go to Tara's house since she needed someone to talk to, and she was sure Jax had said something about Piney to his fiance. She knocked on the door, not at all surprised when Phil opened it, shot gun in hand. "Hey Phil," she greeted, trying her best for a smile. "Tara in?"

"Hey Angie," he replied, grinning at her. "Yeah, yeah. Come in. The guys send you over? They're all about protecting you ladies."

Angela shook her head. "Nope. Just wanted to visit my friend. I get a bit more leniency. No crow," she answered, winking at him. It wasn't true, but as a prospect, Phil was still learning and if the lie meant he wouldn't call Hap to let him know she was there, she was going to use it.

"You going to get one soon?" Phil asked, letting her in.

"We'll see," she said, grinning as she heard the sound of little feet heading down the hallway. Abel screamed her name as he headed towards her. Squatting down, she caught him easily in her arms. She stood, spinning him around and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Hey there, Abie baby! Where's Mama?"

"Room!" he shouted as she settled him on her hip. His little hands tugged on the chain around her neck until they found the dog tags hanging at the end of them. He 'oohed' and 'aahed' at them, his fingers rubbing over the lettering.

"Those are your Uncle Kozi's," she explained, smiling fondly at the little boy. "They're called dog tags."

"Woof, woof!" Abel exclaimed in response.

Angela laughed and nodded. "That right, Abie baby. Doggies go 'woof, woof'," she murmured, kissing his cheek before setting him down on his feet and watching him run off to his own room, all the while barking like a dog. She found Tara sitting in Thomas' bedroom, folding his clothes and putting them into a suitcase. "Hey T," she greeted, stepping into the warmly decorated room. She peered into the crib to find Thomas sleeping, his little fist in his mouth. "So you're really leaving then, huh?"

Tara nodded, watching as her friend sat down on the floor next to her and started helping to fold the clothes. "I'm going to try."

"Let me know if I can help," Angela offered, still helping her fold clothes.

For a moment, Tara felt a lump rise in her throat. Out of all the people involved with the club who knew she wanted to leave, Angela was the only one who'd offered to help her do so. "Thanks, Ang. I really...really appreciate it."

She shrugged, smiling at her. "Yeah, 'course. That's what friends are for, right?"

Tara nodded, exhaling a long breath as she tried to keep herself together. "Did you hear what happened to Piney?"

"Yeah. We burned him last night, after hours," Angela said softly. "Pretty messed up, huh?"

"You know it was about the letters right? All of this. My hand, Piney...just because I found some dingy old letters," she explained, her voice shaking. "Maybe you should come with us to Seattle. You could be next in line. Clay knows that you know. Something might already be in motion."

Angela sighed, raking a hand through her hair. "Nah, he won't go after me. Not yet."

"What makes you say that?"

"The night of the garden party, Clay threatened me. Said if I told anyone about the letters, he'd turn in Juice or Hap," she answered, looking down at her hands. "I had nothing to gain or lose by showing those letters, so he gave me something to lose."

Tara's face fell as she tossed in another of Thomas' onesies with a little more force than usual. "Shit. I'm sorry, Angie. I never wanted this...any of this."

Angela shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. "It's all right. I was never going to say anything anyway. This is your shit, club shit...not mine."

"I told Gemma where the letters were. She says she'll give 'em to Clay, but I'm sure she'll take out the ones that dirty her name and give 'em to Jax. Use it as an incentive for him to kill Clay."

She winced in response. "Shit. Why would she want him to kill Clay? Doesn't she love him?"

"Have you seen her lately? The bruises on her face? Clay beat the crap out of her. She wants him gone and Jax at the head of the table," she said, still brutally tossing things into the suitcase. "It's her last attempt to keep him here, but I will not let that happen."

Angela shook her head. She hadn't seen Gemma in a few days, but she'd seen the scratches and bruises on Clay's face a few nights before. "Do you really think you're going to get out, Tara? Is that even a possibility for Jax if Clay goes?"

Tara sighed, her jaw clenching as she looked up at Angela, a fire in her green eyes. "It is. It has to be. I have to believe that, Angie. For my own...my own sanity. He is going to kill Clay and then we're going to leave. Bobby can be president for all I care."

"Okay, okay. So say Jax kills Clay. How's he going to do it? Just waltz in and shoot him? That's more jail time, T. You don't want that."

She nodded in agreement, though she'd already been thinking of a way to do it. "Do blood thinners come out in autopsy?"

Angela thought about it for a minute before shrugging. "Not right away. It'll show up later in tox but..."

"If he dies in the hospital, they won't run tox," Tara finished off, the wheels in her head turning. "Right?"

"In most cases, they won't, but they'd have to already know his cause of death. If he just dies in the night then that's a problem. I mean, yeah, he could've succumbed to his injuries, but I heard he was doing better, so that wouldn't work too well," she explained, trying her best to align her thinking with Tara's. "Plus, blood thinners could take days, right? You don't have that kind of time."

"Not if his chest tube comes out. He'd drown in his own blood. The blood thinner would just accelerate the process."

"And he could accidentally pull out his own tube. Happens all the time," Angela filled in. "And that's a reasonable cause of death. No tox needed."

Tara nodded emphatically. "I could get a blood thinner. Easy. Jax could pull the tube next time he visits. No one needs to know."

"Shit, T. You really want to do this? Jax goes through with it and someone finds out, you could go to jail. Both of you!"

"It's the only somewhat clean way out of this mess," she said on a sigh.

Angela sat back with a sigh as she played nervously with her rings. "Goddamn," she said on a breath, her eyes wide. She couldn't believe they'd both just mapped out how to commit murder. Right there in Thomas' room. "This is crazy. We are conspiring to kill someone, Tara."

"You're not a part of this," Tara corrected quickly. "I won't let this blow back on you; I've already put you through enough."

"No way I could be tied to it anyway," she assured her on a shrug. "No one knows this conversation even happened. 'cept Thomas."

Tara laughed, looking over her shoulder at where her son was resting peacefully in his crib. "Not sure he'd be much of a witness."

She grinned in response. "I don't know, T. It's the quiet ones you have to look out for," she teased.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Angela's vibrated loudly from her pocket. She pulled it out, grimacing at the blocked number that flashed across the screen. "Shit. It's Hap. It's like he can sense we're plotting a murder and wants in," she said rolling her eyes. "Weirdo."

"Ang, you can't..."

"I know, I know. I was kiddin'," she said rolling her eyes at her friend as she stood. "I do have to go though. Have a good trip. Keep in touch."

Tara nodded, standing up to hug the undertaker as best she could with her bum arm. "Yeah, of course. I'm sure Abel will want to call to talk to his favorite Aunt."

Angela grinned at the title. "You got my number. Call me anytime."

"Thanks," she replied on a sigh. "For everything."

"Don't thank me. We're Daughters of Disorder, right? If you can't plot a murder with me, who else can you do it with?" Angela joked, winking at her friend. "Love you, T. Stay safe, all right?"

Tara smiled back at her. She'd had to ask Gemma and Jax to say it, but Angela had just told her straight out. It was nice to have someone like that in her life. Someone who understood the extremes this life took her to, who didn't judge her for wanting to kill Clay. Angela was her closest ally at the moment, and she was grateful for that. "You too, Ang."

----------------

Juice stared straight ahead at the tiny television screen, the lumpy pillow clutched to his chest. His cell was colder than he'd have liked it so he tried to keep his body curled into a ball to keep somewhat warm. The cell wasn't unlike the prison cell he'd spent fourteen months in. It did have a shower though and a television set that got cable which was nice. The padding of the little shelf bed was a little comfier too, but it wasn't like the bed he had at home and the pillow in his arms was a poor substitute for the girl he knew was waiting for him. His girl and his baby.

He was going to be a father. The idea of that was alien to him. He'd never had a real father. His own had left them when he was three only to return to bite him in the ass in the form of a simple photograph. The only father figures he had were the mobsters back in New York and the older MC members. All of them dangerous men with skewed moral compasses. How could he be a father when he wasn't even sure what that entailed?

The kid wasn't even born yet, and he was letting it down by sitting there locked up in the cell instead of being with Angela, helping her through this rough patch. The shit just kept piling up, falling down on her shoulders, and most of it was his shit too. All the stuff with Miles and Roosevelt plus losing Kozik had broken her. He had seen it the second she realized who the arm in the box belonged to. She was falling apart, and he couldn't do anything to help her because he was stuck there in government holding.

And how was he going to explain this to his brothers once he was out? They'd know he was the rat. The one who had brought the government down on their heads. Why else wouldn't he have been at the meet as expected? They'd find out and they'd kill him and all this worrying about being a father would be for naught. He'd be lucky if he could talk his way into holding off his own execution until the baby was born. It'd be an unprecedented action for the club to take, but a few of his brothers might go for it. More than one had a soft spot for his Old Lady and her baked goods. He wouldn't count on Happy being a part of that, though. A rat was a rat to the Tacoma killer regardless of how his cousin felt.

Juice tilted his head back against the cold cement wall behind him. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. That somehow he'd make it out of there without his brothers finding out where he'd been, what he'd done. Maybe he'd jump charters then. Move Angela and the kid somewhere safer where they could live in relative peace. He could join up with the Anchorage crew since he heard his Alaskan brothers were pretty low key. He didn't mind freezing his ass off it meant his family was safe. He was willing to bet Angela might not like the idea too much. He'd find a way to convince her, and if not, he was sure they could find somewhere else. The Sons had charters all around the world, she was bound to like some location.

Truth be told, he didn't want to leave Charming. It was where his family was. The members of SAMCRO were as close to a family as he ever had and it hurt him to think he'd have to leave them behind because of his own stupid mistake. He wanted his kid to grow up playing in the bays of TM, trying to decipher Chibs' accent as the Scot told one of his tall tales, learning how to shoot a gun from Hap, going to Gemma's big family dinners, and playing with Abel and Thomas in the little playground the prospect's had built for the SAMCRO kids awhile back. He wanted his kid to have a big family filled with love and laughter. That was the life he'd always wanted when he was growing up, and he'd be damned if he was going to let assholes like Roosevelt and Potter take that away from his kid. Swallowing hard, he glanced at the ceiling and, for the second time in months, he prayed life would get better. That he'd get himself out of this mess and his child would live his or her life surrounded by the big SAMCRO family, safe from harm, and above all, happy.