Happy walked out of the weight room, watching Juice's back as the idiot walked in front of him. He looked just as exhausted as his cousin had. It was further proof something had gone on between them. He was willing to bet the idiot had done something wrong, and, without Kozik or Mel around, Angela was trying to work through it on her own. He hated the idea of suffering alone. Hated feeling like he couldn't help his little girl when she needed it, so he decided to go to the source. " 'ey, idiot!" Happy called, catching his attention.

Juice turned, heaving a heavy sigh as he met Happy's stare. "What?" he asked on a breath, wiping at his face with a towel. He could tell Angela hadn't told him what had happened between them otherwise he wouldn't have received such a nice greeting.

"What'd you do to my cousin?" he demanded, his dark eyes staring Juice down looking for some kind of indication of how bad the situation was.

He tensed at the question, still a little shocked Angela hadn't mentioned it. "She really didn't tell you?" Juice asked, surprise on his face. He thought Angela told her cousin everything. The fact she hadn't said anything showed how much she still cared about him. It was a comforting notion, if not a bit scary. How far would Happy go if he found out? "Then it's none of your business."

Happy pushed him into the wall of the hallway, anger burning in his dark eyes. How dare this idiot tell him Angela wasn't his business! He'd had a hand in every move she made since she was three years old! That was his kid he was fucking with, and he'd be damned if he let Juice tell him what to do about her. "She is my business," he growled, pinning Juice against the wall.

Juice pushed back, using all his force to get the Tacoma killer off of him. "No, she's not," he seethed letting the anger he felt towards himself fuel his fury. "What happens between me and my Old Lady stays between me and her. If she doesn't want to tell you then it's none of your fucking business."

"Gonna ask one more time," he stated, pushing Juice once more and holding him against the wall. "The fuck did you do to her?"

"None of your goddamn business!" Juice shouted back, ducking just in time to avoid Happy's fist.

Tig could hear their yelling from where he sat at the bar with Bobby but neither of them thought to intervene until they heard the crash of a fist hitting the wall. Bobby got off his stool and headed towards the sound. Tig quickly downed his shot of Jack before following after. They were both surprised to find Happy and Juice yelling in each other's faces.

"Stop!" Bobby shouted stepping in between them. Happy ignored him, taking another step closer to Juice only to have Tig grab his arm and hold him back. Bobby looked between his two brothers, trying his best to figure out what had happened to make them lash out at each other. He was willing to be it had something to do with Angela. The two men didn't have much in common otherwise. "What the hell is wrong with you two? We got a brother lying dead on the table, and you're fighting over a girl? We should be supportin' each other not tryin' to kill each other!"

"He's right, Hap," Tig agreed, knowing Happy was the instigator. "Shouldn't be doin' this now. Ang is a big girl, she can handle her own problems."

Happy pushed Tig away, giving Juice a death glare before heading back towards the bar without saying another word. This was not over. He understood his VP's point, but he was not going to let this go any time soon.

Tig watched him go before turning to Juice. "What'd you do ta her?"

Juice could see an almost protective look in Tig's clear blue eyes. He was concerned about Angela too. When had that happened? "Nothing you need to worry about," Juice replied, pushing Tig away from him.

Bobby shook his head at him looking a bit disappointed in his younger brother. "Doesn't matter," he said, dismissing the conversation. "We need you to call Angela. Get an ETA on when she'll be bringing over Ope."

He tensed at the request. There was no way Angela would willingly answer his phone call, but he'd give it a try for his club. "Yeah. I'll see what I can find out."

He headed down the hallway into his room, closing and locking the door behind him to keep his brothers out. Grabbing his personal cell, he stared at the picture he had of her on the home screen. He'd taken on the beach in Santa Cruz during their short trip. She was wearing that silver bikini he loved so much with their sonogram picture taped to her stomach, a huge smile on her face as she pointed to it. Sighing, he dialed her number, not really expecting her to pick up. The phone rang once and was quickly cut off. She'd rejected the call, just as he thought she would.

Rubbing a hand over his head, he lay back on his bed. Guilt pooled in his stomach. A part of him wanted to find Happy again and let the Tacoma killer beat him black and blue. It was what he deserved after what he'd done. Digging through his pocket, he pulled out his burner for the week and called her knowing she'd answer the blocked number.

"Angela Ruiz. How can I help you?" her voice answered on a tired sigh.

"Hey baby," he greeted, wondering if he was even allowed to call her that anymore.

He heard her sigh again in response. "If I wanted to talk to you, I would've answered your first call," she stated, her voice flat, emotionless.

"I know," he replied, rubbing a hand over his mohawk. "It's just...the guys wanted me to ask if you were bringin' Ope over soon."

"Oh," her surprised response and the silence that followed told him she was raking her hands through her hair, probably assessing how much work she had left to do. "Yeah...we'll be over soon. Maybe an hour, hour and a half."

Juice hated the awkwardness of the conversation. It was something he'd never encountered with Angela before. "Okay," he said, letting out a long breath. "Your cousin almost beat the shit outta me two minutes ago."

"Almost?"

"Bobby and Tig intervened. Not the right time for it, apparently."

"I see."

He sighed, looking at the still fan on the ceiling. "I deserve to have the shit kicked outta me, to be honest. Wasn't going to fight him back."

"Don't be an idiot. He'd kill you," she scoffed, disapproval in her voice.

Juice smiled; she still cared. It didn't matter how angry she was at him, she still cared. "You stayin' for the wake?"

"Yeah, 'course."

"You comin' home after?" he asked. The long pause he was met with made him nervous. Clearing his throat, he backtracked. "I'll sleep on the couch if you want me to, Angel. I just...want you home with me."

"I dunno, Juice. I have a lot on my plate, and I just...can't think about that right now," she answered. "I'll see you at the wake, okay?"

Juice sighed. Of course he ruined their perfectly civil conversation. "Okay, baby," he replied, his voice rougher than he wanted it to be. "Love you."

He heard her take in a quick breath. "Okay," was the only reply he got before her line cut off.

He stared at the blank screen before tossing the phone across the room. It broke against the wooden paneled wall, shattering into pieces. It didn't bother him. It'd been time to get rid of that burner anyway. He stared at the broken pieces thinking of his own broken relationship. Getting down on his knees, he tried to piece the phone back together. His fingers fumbled clumsily with the parts as he started fitting the cheap parts into each other. He pressed the on button, his stomach churning. What if it didn't turn on? What if it was unfixable? What if what he'd done to Angela had made them unfixable? Had he really just tossed her aside like he'd done to his stupid, cheap phone?

The screen of the phone lit up, though nothing else happened. He'd fixed it. A sigh of relief left his lips. Maybe his relationship wasn't as doomed as he thought.

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

Angela waited for Skeeter to park the hearse in the lot of TM. The only reason he'd tagged along was because someone needed to drive the hearse back, and she'd asked him if she could stay. She looked over her shoulder at the beautiful black box and sighed. "This was a tough one," she admitted softly to her boss.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry," Skeeter said, patting her hand comfortingly. "You did a great job, though. I'm proud of you."

She gave him a soft smile in return, watching in the side mirror as the boys filtered out of the clubhouse, Juice among them. "Thanks, Skeet," she replied, her hand on the door handle. "Shall we?"

They both got out of the hearse together. Skeeter put on his pallbearer gloves, opening the back door and moving the casket out a little so it would be easier to lift. Angela stood on the other side, her hands clasped behind her back out of habit. Her eyes locked on Juice's holding his stare as Skeeter made a comment about Opie's condition to Bobby.

Juice nodded towards the box. "That's a nice looking box, Angel," he complimented, his eyes going from the casket to her.

Bobby nodded in agreement, setting a hand on her shoulder before literally patting her on the back. "Ope woulda dug it."

"Let's get 'em inside," Jax ordered, watching as the other guys lifted the casket and headed inside. He nodded at Angela. "Where are the kids?"

"El had a birthday party she wanted to go to, and Ken wanted to hang back at the mortuary with my apprentice," she explained on a frown. After already seeing his dad on the table and saying goodbye in his own way, Kenny decided against going. He didn't want to be anywhere near the club that had caused the loss of his mother, grandfather, and father. That had made more sense to her than Ellie's choice.

Jax nodded slowly. "You think that's healthy?"

"I let Kenny in to see him by himself," she admitted, hoping Jax wouldn't get upset. "I think it's better for him that way. Being in a room filled with people he doesn't know, having everyone say how sorry they are is difficult. I didn't want to force him to do it if he didn't want to."

"Yeah, I get it," Jax murmured, remembering the way he had felt at his brother's and father's wakes. "Thanks, Ang. Go on inside. My Ma was lookin' for ya."

Angela grimaced at that. She'd had a ton of missed calls from the SAMCRO queen when she'd woken up, and she'd ignored every single one. She was sure to get an earful once Gemma finally caught up with her. Once inside, she could see the backs of all the brothers as they stood in Church, surrounding Opie's open casket. Lyla walked by her with Jax, too wrapped up in her own grief to notice her standing there. Angela understood completely; she would be the same way.

Leaning against one of the building supports, she watched as the boys all filed out of the chapel to give Lyla some time alone with Opie. She stared at the leather covered doors, her heart breaking for Lyla. With a sigh, she turned to head towards the exit to look for Gemma figuring it was better to just get whatever she needed out of the way. Juice's hand reached for her, grabbing her wrist and stopping her trek. Her eyes met his as he laced his fingers through hers, tugging gently as if to get her to go somewhere with him. His eyes darted to the hallway before settling back on her, a silent question. Against her better judgment, she nodded, allowing him to pull her towards the hall. She stopped by the ladder that led to the roof, letting go of his hand and starting the climb up there. There was no way she was going to have this conversation with him in his room; it was too close to where everyone else was. Better to be atop the roof where no one could hear them if things got out of hand.

With a sigh, she sat down on the vent staring out over the lot as Juice sat down next to her. She stared off in the distance, chewing the inside of her cheek for a moment before clearing her throat. "If you're going to say you're sorry, I don't want to hear it again."

Juice wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans. He didn't know where else to begin. "Okay," he said softly. He stared at her profile, contemplating what else to say. "I'm not good with words, Angel. Sorry's really all I got."

She closed her eyes, her brows furrowed together as though in pain before she relaxed and opened them again. "Yeah, I know."

He took her hand in his, finally getting her to look at him. "I've always wanted a family, Angel. The one God gave me wasn't so good to me, so I left my Ma's house and went searching for one. Found a place in the mob over in New York, got kicked outta there, blacklisted. Made my way 'cross the country to get away from them. Found the Sons by accident. Thought I'd found a real family."

She looked away then, staring as a few of the brothers milled about outside. It made sense. This was his family. Clay was like his father, and he wanted to impress him. That's why he'd let Carla pull him away. It was a stupid reason, but she understood it. She'd done her fair share of stupid things to impress Happy.

"Then I met you," he said, relieved when she turned her head to meet his gaze again. "And I got to know you and you...you listened to me and called me a goof instead of an idiot and you...you stood by me when I hit bottom, rock bottom. And I fell for you without even realizin' it. It was just so...easy. I never saw you comin', Angel, but fate or God or somethin' decided to send you to me. To save me, I guess. 'cause I know that I couldn't a survived half the things I did without you at my side."

He felt stroked his thumb over her knuckles, swallowing hard once before continuing. "I was an idiot, and I got sucked into this whole...Clay thing. And that's on me. I was weak. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat," he said, squeezing her hand. "You're all I got, Angel. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you."

Angela wiped at her eyes, touched at his words, the sincerity in his voice. It killed her to give in to him so easily, but it would hurt her more to lose him. She just wanted this whole thing to be over with. "And you say you're not good with words," she said on a light laugh.

He carefully wiped away her tears with his fingers, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "I love you, Angel," he said, his lips moving against her skin. He pulled away so their eyes could meet. "You know that, right?"

Angela nodded, sucking in a deep breath to keep her tears at bay. "This has to be the first and last time, Juice," she said, her voice stronger than she'd expected it to be. "It happens again, and I'm walking. I won't be that girl who gets treated like some doormat. I don't deserve it."

"It won't happen again, Angel. I promise," he said earnestly. "You're it for me. The only one I want."

She nodded again, hating herself for giving into him, for not being strong enough to leave him. This wasn't the first time she'd been cheated on. When they were dating, Esai used to do it all the time. Once that portion of her life was over, she swore to herself she'd never let a man use her like that again. Yet here she was, letting it slide because she loved Juice too much to let him go. "Okay."

There was a look in her eyes that bothered him. She looked resigned, as if she didn't truly believe him. How could he prove that to her? How could he regain her trust? "Okay? Are we good, Angel?"

Angela sucked in a breath. Her heart was telling her 'yes', but her head still remembered the sting of his betrayal. They weren't good. Things had definitely changed between them, but she didn't want to recognize it. "Yeah, we're good," she lied, trying her best to smile at him.

Juice took her face in his hands, gently swiping the tears from her eyes with his thumbs before pressing his lips to hers. It had been far too long since he'd last been able to kiss her, and he'd missed the feel of her lips on his. She kissed him back, hesitantly at first before she let her heart take over. Still the little voice in her head kept shouting that letting him back in so easily was a terrible mistake.

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

Juice helped Angela down off the ladder, his hands on her hips. Once she was on her feet, he took her face in his hands and put his lips to hers. There was something different in the way she kissed him now. He'd noticed it on the roof and wanted to try again to see if it was still there. It was. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly had changed, but that passion, that heart that she'd always put in her kisses was gone. She was hesitant now as if she didn't trust him. Pulling away, he looked in her eyes, seeing that same distrust in her dark gaze. He realized then that she wasn't totally over this, that as much as he wanted her to be okay, she wasn't. "Angel..." he started, feeling his heart beating fast.

"Don't," she said softly, her fingers wrapping around his wrists. "We're okay."

A throat clearing interrupted what he was going to say next. Angela looked over to find Jax standing there, a little book in his hand. She let go of Juice's wrists and waited for him to take a step back. "Hey Jax," she greeted, with a small smile. "Everythin' okay?"

Jax nodded, his hand on the bottom rung of the ladder. "Yeah. You did a good job, Ang. Thanks."

"Yeah, of course," she replied, waving off his thanks.

"Chibs get you our...special request?"

Angela grimaced at Juice's questioning look. Apparently, he'd been kept out of the loop on his brothers' "parts" order, something he didn't look all that comfortable with. "Yeah," she answered, raking a hand through her hair. "Should have it to you soon. White girl, right?"

"Right. Thanks, darlin'," he said, a tired look in his eyes. "You ever find my mom?"

"Didn't really get a chance to look," she lied on a shrug.

"Think she's out in the garage. You mind tellin' her we're almost done?"

Angela glanced at Juice who nodded in approval. "Sure," she agreed, kissing Juice once more before heading down the hallway. She walked out of the clubhouse, heading over to the garage. The bay doors were closed which was odd considering Rat should still be out there working.

She could hear the screaming and grunting when she entered the office. It took her awhile to register that they were Tara's, paired with someone else's she didn't recognize. "Shit," she muttered, upping her pace as she headed into the garage. The sight before her made her stop in her tracks. Tara had Carla pinned beneath her, her casted hand pounding into the older woman's face while Gemma watched on, hands on her hips, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Jesus Christ!" she cursed, staring at Gemma as if she was crazy for not stopping them.

When the Queen made no move to break it up, Angela intervened, grabbing Tara by the shoulders and pulling her bodily off the other woman. "Stop it, Tara! C'mon! Look at your hand!"

Tara straightened up, tugging at the bottom of her jacket as she took a few steps back. Her green eyes flashed wildly as she glared at Carla. "Get her out of here, Ang," she growled.

Angela moved to stand between Carla and Tara, breaking a rule Happy had taught her as she turned her back on Carla. "All right, I will. Just...calm down."

"I knew there was another one of you running around. Was wonderin' when you'd show up, Angel," Carla's voice came from behind her back. The teasing way in which she said Juice's nickname for her told her she knew exactly who she was.

Angela clenched her jaw, wondering why on Earth the woman wanted to start something with her now. Hadn't she done enough damage? Tara took a step forward, ready to fight again, but Angela set a hand on her shoulder. "Don't," she said. This was her problem to take care of as she pleased. She was no Gemma, she wouldn't let someone else fight her battles.

"That's a beautiful tattoo your man has, nena," Carla continued, her eyes raking over the undertaker's slim figure, the small bulge of her belly that was barely hidden by her loose fitting top. She knew the girl was in a relationship with the Son who'd rejected her just the day before. Seeing her standing there, pregnant to boot, she almost felt bad for what she did. Almost. "Hermoso cuerpo también. Lástima que tiene problemas en levantarse. Must be difficult for you." (Beautiful body too. Too bad he has problems getting it up.)

Gemma looked between them, shocked by the change in language. She wondered if Angela understood the other woman, how she'd react. She watched as Angela's fingers curled into fists as she turned to face Carla. "Nunca tiene esa problema conmigo," Angela replied, her voice dark, menacing almost. "Debe ser que eras tan vieja que no podrías calentarlo." (He never has that problem with me. It must be because you're so old, you couldn't turn him on.)

With that insult, Carla lifted a hand to slap her. Gemma saw the hit coming and grimaced, but Angela was faster. She caught the woman's wrist in her hand, flipping the older woman around while bending her arm behind her back so she had Carla pinned against the car in front of her, the older woman's other arm squished between her body and the car. Gemma and Tara both exchanged shocked glances; neither of them expected that from the undertaker. It was position that gave Angela all the power and left Carla helpless. Gemma was willing to bet Happy had taught her how to do it.

"You don't get to touch me," Angela growled in Carla's ear, pushing her closer to the car. "You're a despicable excuse for a woman. Touching a man you know isn't yours is the lowest of the low. Stay the fuck away from me and my family."

"This ain't your family," Carla shot back, gritting her teeth together against the pain that was shooting through both her arms. "Piensas que esas putas van a ayudarte cuando tu hombre finalmente pierda su interés? No. You're going to end up alone. Just like me, nena. Y el se va a perder su interes, te lo juro. Siempre hacen lo mismo. Te hacen creer que te quieren y después de dejan como si fueras basura. That's why he let me take him by the hand. That's why he didn't stop me in the first place. I'm warning you now, nena. You're better than this." (You think these whores will help you when your man finally loses interest?...And he will lose interest, I promise you that. They always do the same thing. They make you think they love you and then leave you like you were trash.)

Her words hit a nerve. Angela let out a feral growl, using her free hand, she grabbed Carla's hair and slammed her head against the roof of the car. "I am not you. We're not even on the same level. Puedo sobrevivir sin ayuda. No necesito un hombre para resolver mis problemas. Don't come near me again. Understand?" Angela snarled in Carla's ear. When the woman didn't respond, she used her grip on her to slam her body against the car, tangling her hand in her hair to press the injured side of the woman's face against the metal. "Me escuchastes, vieja?" (I can live without their help. I don't need a man to solve my problems...did you hear me, old woman?)

"I got it," she managed to get out.

Angela gave her one final shove before letting go. She took a step back, rolling her shoulders as she tried to regain her composure. It bothered her to get physical like that with a woman when ultimately what had happened was Juice's fault. She'd tried her best not to let Carla's words sink in, but they'd gotten through. Once she saw that fist flying towards her, she'd seen red. After that, instinct had just taken over. She'd given into the feral side of her that she worked so hard to control, and that loss of control sickened her.

Gemma set a hand on her shoulder as she headed past, stopping her. "You okay, baby?"

She shrugged off Gemma's hand, setting her with a black glare before stalking across the lot and back towards the clubhouse. Anger still buzzed through her veins, making her antsy. The black punching bag hanging off the overhang by the ring caught her attention. She knew walking back into the clubhouse with the black rage she was currently feeling was not a good idea. Squaring off in front of the bag as Kozik had taught her to do so many years ago, she took one swing. Her unprotected hand hit the plastic bag hard, sending small waves of pain through the wrist that she continually was injuring. She ignored it swinging again and again. With each swing, she saw Carla's face in her head, saw Juice stepping out of the hallways half-clothed. She hit harder, unleashing everything she was feeling on the inanimate object because she knew she couldn't do it to either of them. She loved Juice too much to hurt him, and if she let her self control go completely with Carla, she might have actually killed her.

The rhythmic sound of high heels clacking against concrete pulled her from her anger. She stopped, breathing hard as she stared at the unchanged bag before her. "You all right?" Gemma's voice questioned from somewhere behind her.

Angela sniffed, dropping her hands to her sides. Her arms felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, but the fury she'd felt just minutes before had abated. "No," she answered honestly feeling ashamed of herself for letting someone like Carla get to her. She was better than that. "I should've just ignored her. Walked out."

"She had it comin'," Gemma replied, stepping closer to the younger woman. "Bitch touched what was yours. Gotta send a message somehow. I'da done the same thing...I have done the same thing. First time I saw the Old Lady in ya, to be honest."

She grimaced at that notion; that was the last thing she wanted to hear. There was no piece of her that wanted to be anything like Gemma Teller-Morrow. "Awesome," Angela muttered flatly, staring at her hands. Her wrist was throbbing, her knuckles split and bleeding. There was no way in hell she could hide them from Juice or Hap. They'd take one look at them and know what had happened. She stiffened when Gemma draped an arm over her shoulders.

"Be proud of what you did, baby. You did good," the Queen said, squeezing shoulder in emphasis. She kissed Angela's temple. "Now, c'mon. Let's go see off Ope."

Angela watched her walk away feeling even worse than she had before. The last thing she wanted to do was walk back into the clubhouse. She felt almost relieved when the black hearse pulled in, Bones at the wheel. Her apprentice stepped out dressed in the fanciest attire she'd ever seen him in, a black dress shirt with a royal blue bow tie, black slacks, and black loafers. He opened the backdoor and stood awkwardly next to the empty hearse. "Lookin' good, Boner," she said, deciding talking to Boner was a good excuse not to go back to the clubhouse.

"Thanks. Skeet let me drive the hearse since he wanted to go home to watch some game. Rigs is at the apartment with Ken. I told him he could spend the night. His grandma said it was okay," he explained, so used to giving her the rundown on things that he did it without being asked.

"Good. He needs a friend," she said, taking a seat in the back of the hearse.

Bones sat next to her as he nodded in agreement. "You need a friend too," he stated, looking over at the clubhouse. "I know things aren't okay with you, Ang. You got this...bummer aura."

"Bummer aura?" she repeated, a hint of a laugh in her voice. At his serious look, she shrugged a shoulder, staring down at her hands. "I'm all right, Boner."

"I don't think you are," he answered honestly. He lifted his arm and let it fall over her shoulders. "But that's okay. I mean, you can't be okay all the time. I'm here, though. Y'know? And I'm a pretty good listener or even if you want to come over and shoot some virtual people instead a tearing up your hands...I can help with that too."

Angela smiled just a little at his sweet offer. "I ever tell you you're like the little brother I never wanted?"

Boner chuckled and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, well you're kinda the big sister I always wanted."

"You're such a brownnoser, Boner," she said on a scoff, elbowing his side. "Thanks, though."

He smiled and nodded, his eyes being drawn to the Reaper on the front of the clubhouse. This was the first time he'd actually been on the TM lot, despite growing up in Charming. It was a lot bigger than he'd anticipated. He looked over the line of bikes, impressed by how many there were. "There a lot of people inside?"

"I dunno. Haven't been in there for awhile. Probably. Ope was a good guy," she said, frowning slightly. She looked down at her hands again, bringing her knuckles to her lips to staunch the bleeding a bit.

Boner handed her a pair of white pallbearer's gloves from his pocket. "I got another pair. We'll just bleach the shit outta those later."

"Thanks," she said, wincing as she tugged them on. "I'm gonna ride back with you, if that's okay. Not that I don't trust you, but I need my puppy and my car."

"And you're still pissed at Juice," Bones finished, standing up and stretching. He grabbed his spare pair of gloves and put them on before clapping his hands together nervously. "You think they're comin' out soon?"

Angela glanced at the door and nodded. "Probably. I'm sure they saw you pull in."

As if on cue, the door opened and Jax stepped out first, the rest of the boys carrying the casket behind them. She stepped to one side of the hearse, grabbing Bones' arm to move him out of the way. When he moved to help the Sons, she squeezed his arm once more, shaking her head discreetly. The guys slid the coffin in easily enough before Jax took the hearse door and shut it. With one final nod to Angela, he headed back inside.

Juice hung back, watching as Happy hugged Angela, all the while glaring at him over the top of her head. He grimaced at the black look knowing he was a dead man walking. "Stay strong, kid," Happy muttered before kissing her forehead and pushing her away. He glared at Juice but said the four words that he usually parted with anyway. "Take care a her."

"Always, man," Juice answered on a breath. He took a step towards Angela, taking her hands in his. He'd been watching the security cameras in the clubhouse to distract himself from the heavy feeling in the clubhouse when he saw her tear into the bag outside, barehanded. There were a few spots of blood that had soaked through the white cloth on her knuckles. He had no idea why she'd beat up the bag, but he was willing to bet it had to do with him and that guilt fell heavily on his shoulders. "You ridin' with me, Angel?"

She shook her head, pulling her hands from his and glancing back at the hearse. "Gotta go with Boner. Grab my car and Rigs. I'll meet you back."

"I can take ya over," he offered, desperately feeling the need to go for a ride. He figured they could go somewhere quickly to talk and then head back to pick up Rigs.

"Nah, it's all right. I really should help Bones out. Kid doesn't know what he's doin'. Don't want him to drive too fast and scratch Ope's box," she explained. A light laugh escaped Bones' lips at the irony of her comment. She always got on his case for how slow he drove. If anyone would accidentally scratch a casket because it banged around in the back, it'd be her. She glared at him, and he quickly ducked into the driver's side of the car. Looking back to Juice, she tried to give him a smile but failed miserably. "I'll see you at home, though."

Juice sighed as he nodded his head; he was almost positive her excuse was bull shit, but he wasn't about to call her on it. "Okay, baby. See you later then," he said, gently moving a stray hair from her face. Dipping his head, he put his lips to hers in a goodbye kiss that didn't last as long as it usually did. He waited there awkwardly, expecting her to say goodbye, tell him she loved him like she always did. She didn't. With a murmured goodbye, she got in the passenger's side of the hearse. He heard her smack Bones' head, cursing him out as the kid started the car.

She waved at him as they drove by, a sad sort of wave that hurt just as much as her quiet goodbye. He could still picture her blowing kisses to him as she tore out of the lot like a crazy person, music blasting, windows down like it was yesterday. He wondered if they'd ever go back to that. If she would ever trust him again.

He didn't go out for a ride, too afraid that he'd get home and find her gone. Instead, he sat on the couch and just stared at the television, waiting for her to get home. The front door opened and Rigor bounded in, happy to see him. Angela walked in at a slower pace, her shoulders slumped, a tired expression on her face. He watched as she toed off her boots before straightening up with a sigh. Her hands were bandaged; something he was sure Bones had helped her with. It was a task that he should've done instead. He was the one that should be taking care of her, not her apprentice. The fact she'd sought help from someone else further proved to him that they were not okay.

They were not okay, but she was still there. She hadn't left him. The look in her eyes was tired and weary but they were still together; he couldn't ask for much more. So as selfish as it was, he stayed quiet and didn't press the issue. He followed her to their room and lay down beside her, not at all surprised when she turned her back to him. He sidled up behind her, moving his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She'd tensed but didn't push him away.

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Angela held her breath against the sobs that were threatening to escape her lips. She was too weak to leave him, and she hated herself for that. Hated him for making her feel like that. Staying with him meant losing a piece of herself...leaving him meant the same thing. She'd thought she'd picked the lesser of the two evils, but the more she went over things, the more it started to eat at her. Silent tears leaked down her face, unnoticed by the snoring man sleeping behind her. She knew what the right thing to do would be, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. It was only a kiss, she told herself, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw Carla's smirking face, heard her warning: You're going to end up alone...he'll lose interest...they make you think they love you and then they leave you like you were trash...you're better than this. A part of her knew the woman was only trying to get a rise out of her while another part, a bigger part, was starting to believe she was right.