by Kim
This follows Red Light in the M7-SoA crossover A/U. Thanks again to Nancy and Marnie.
Day eight afternoon:
"Come in," Chris called when he heard the knock on his door. He motioned Vin to sit in the chair while he finished his phone call. "Tell them they'll have the stuff next Friday," he said into one of the prepaid cell phones the club used to discuss business. "I'll talk to you later," he said and hung up."I can go if you want," Vin said quietly.
"No," Chris said shaking his head. "I shouldn't have blown up the other night," he said.
"I didn't know about your family," Vin said. "I never would have asked about them, especially not then," he told Chris, "if I knew you lost 'em."
"What do you know about my family?" Chris asked. His voice was low and flat.
"Just that your wife and boy died in an arson fire," Vin said. "I didn't mean to piss you off," he said.
"Don't worry about it," Chris said. "Who told you about them?" he asked.
"Buck," Vin said.
"You can always count on Buck," Chris muttered. He slapped his desk.
Fuck, Vin thought. He should have just left it alone. One of these days he was going to learn to keep his mouth shut. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Sorry," he said quietly.
"Forget it," Chris said curtly. "Jesus I'm tense," he said the sharpness in his voice easing. "Why don't you come over here and use that mouth for what it's good at," he instructed.
"Thanks," Chris said as he zipped up his pants. He buckled his belt. "Tell Buck to come in," he said. "I need to discuss some things with him."
"Sure," Vin said. He went to the door but stopped and turned around before he left. "Don't be mad at him," he said quietly. "He didn't mean no harm." He left without waiting for Chris's answer. He'd already pushed his luck enough for one day.
"What's up, stud?" Buck asked smiling.
Chris leaned back in his chair. "Sit down," he said. He got up. "You want a drink? he asked walking to the bar.
"Whiskey," Buck said.
Chris poured two glasses. He put them on the desk in front of Buck. Buck picked one up and sipped at it.
"My past is my own, Buck. It's not something you can use for conversation," Chris said from behind him.
"I had to tell him something," Buck said. "After you threw him out of here like that."
"Guess you didn't hear me," Chris said. Suddenly, Chris had an arm around his shoulders. Before Buck could move, he felt the sharp prick of Chris's knife at his throat.
Buck groaned. "I hear you and I'm sorry, Chris. But what the hell was I supposed to say?"
"Nothing," Chris said. "You say nothing, you got that?"
"I got it," Buck said.
Chris let go of him. "Finish your drink," he said. He let go of Buck and put his knife away.
"Fuck you," Buck said. "You finish it." He stood up and pushed past Chris. He stopped halfway to the door. "If you don't want me talking about your past, then don't act like an asshole to people who make the fucking mistake of not knowing about it." He left the office slamming the door behind him.
NEXT: The Waiting (is the Hardest Part)