💘( Mending the King! )✨

TEN

[ The Push ]

( 🤴🔨👸💋💑🏍 )

" It's a gift. Or maybe I just watch too many soap operas. "

~ CHUCK MARSTEIN to ALU ORTIZ 

☆《》¤

ALU PUSHED OPEN THE CLUBHOUSE DOOR, her eyes scanning the familiar yet chaotic space. And like always, Chuckie was right behind her. Since Oscar's last night visit a couple nights ago, either Half-Sack or Chuckie were sure to ve nearby. One of the three new Prospects; Phil, Miles and Shepard were always posted at the front of Adela's house, even though Mama Ortiz was probably more than capable of protecting Moss herself, they were all just being cautious. 

The sound of laughter, clinking bottles, and the low hum of conversation filled the air—an atmosphere that felt like home to her. But today something felt different. The weight on her shoulders, the knot in her stomach, was something she couldn't shake.

She wasn't looking for anyone specifically, but Juice was on her mind. They hadn't talked since he was discharged and with the club keeping pretty tied up lately, she just needed to hear his voice. She made her way toward the bar, but before she could even take a step, Jax's voice called out to her.

"Alu, hey, darlin'." 

She turned to see Jax approaching, his blue eyes studying her with a concern that made her stomach tighten. His face was usually a mask of calm control, but the concern was evident in the way he furrowed his brow.

"Everything alright?" Jax asked, his voice low but filled with genuine worry. He had always been good at reading people, and today, something about her wasn't sitting right. It wasn't the usual confident and composed Alu he had seen since she arrived in Charming two months ago. 

Alu quickly forced a smile, brushing her hair behind her ear, "Yeah, it's fine. Just a little... tired. You know, life stuff."

Jax wasn't convinced, "You sure? You don't look fine. Oscar show up again?" As the question left his lips, his hands clenched into fists and shook with uncontrolled fury. 

"No, I haven't seen him in days," she brushed off, but Jax could see the fear in her eyes that she tried so hard to hide, making his features soften. "I'm good, really," she assured, but again, it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just need to talk to Juice."

"Ah," Jax let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Now's not the greatest time. His six inches deep in some crow eater."

Alu nodded in understanding, but a sadness flashed in her eyes at the thought. 

Her brother was still struggling after all this time. Alu knew that. The crow eaters were a way for him to numb the pain of losing the one woman he ever truly loved. Alu knew this all too well. His girlfriend, and Alu's childhood best friend, Tabitha Monet, had been everything to him. She had been smart, sweet, and fiercely loyal, but also the one person who refused to let herself be sucked into the dark parts of their world. 

And when that part of his life killed her, Juice...Juice was left shattered. He had loved her with everything he had, and the world had ripped her away from him in the cruelest way possible. Now, the crow eaters, the fleeting, meaningless connections, were his way of trying to fill the empty space she had left behind. He couldn't let anyone in, couldn't risk loving anyone again—not after losing her. So, he drowned himself in distractions, the attention from the girls was a temporary escape, a hollow replacement that couldn't compare to the depth of love he'd once known. Alu understood his need to fill the silence. But deep down, she knew the pain would never go away. It would just stay buried until he was ready to confront it—something neither of them were quite ready to do.

Alu sighed, "Can you just tell him to call me when he's done with his whore?" She tried to sidestep the club's V.P. ready to leave, before he could press her further, but Jax stepped in her path, his gaze unwavering.

"Alu, you know you can talk to me, right?" he asked, his voice softer now, more understanding. "I may not have known you long, but I'm a good listener. If something's bothering you, I'm here. No judgment. I promise." 

Alu felt the sincerity in his words, but she didn't want to burden him with the overthinking thoughts that were currently swirling in her mind. She wasn't ready to open up to him, not yet, and definitely not about the messy drama of her family life. She met his eyes, trying to hide the crack in her armour.

"I appreciate that, Jax, I do," she said, forcing a smile, though it felt fragile. "But really, it's nothing. I just need to talk to Juice. I'll be fine."

There was a moment of silence, and for a second, Jax didn't move. She could see the way he was studying her, as if waiting for her to let down her guard. But when he spoke again, his voice was calm and steady, laced with a quiet kindness that felt almost like a promise.

"You don't have to do everything on your own, Alu." He paused for a moment, then added, "Even if you're not ready to talk, I want you to know that you can. Anytime."

Alu's heart skipped a beat, and for the first time in a while, she felt a flicker of warmth in her chest. She had been so caught up in her own worries, so used to keeping everything buried deep inside, that she forgot sometimes people genuinely cared.

"It's...it's my mum," she said quietly, her voice laced with something unspoken.

Jax's expression softened immediately, his eyes understanding in a way that caught her off guard. He didn't press her, but there was something in his tone that signaled he had caught the depth of her words.

"Ah," he said after a moment, nodding his head. "I've got one of those too," he said, a hidden meaning behind his words. 

Alu blinked, surprised by the shift in his tone. She took a step closer, her arms folding across her chest, her posture defensive as she tried to read him. There was a hint of something familiar in his expression, something she wasn't used to seeing in people—not the typical pity or hesitation, but an understanding.

"You do?" she asked, her voice softer now.

Jax let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were suddenly unsure of how much to share, "Yeah, my mum's...well, let's just say she doesn't exactly have a good track record of making the best choices."

Alu raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady, "I take it she's not the kind of mum who brings you tea and sympathy when you're down."

Jax's lips quirked upward, the slight humour in his eyes betraying the edge of pain beneath it, "Sympathy? She's more like the kind who tells you to toughen up and get your shit together. Kind of...tough love, you know?"

Alu couldn't help but laugh, a genuine sound that felt foreign to her at times, "Yeah, I know that one. My mum's the queen of tough love. She's a lot of things, but she sure as hell isn't gentle. Or forgiving."

There was a moment of shared silence, the kind that didn't need words, as both of them acknowledged the weight of the conversation. Alu's thoughts drifted for a moment to her mother—her unpredictable, sometimes cruel, and always fiercely independent mother, who had a way of making everyone around her feel small and insignificant, all while demanding more than they could give. Alu hadn't realised just how much she was affected by it until now.

Jax broke the quiet, his voice soft but laced with empathy, "I think...I think those kinds of mothers make us who we are, whether we like it or not. We learn to deal with it, but it never really goes away."

Alu nodded, her eyes looking down at the floor for a moment, "Yeah, well...I've been dealing with it my whole life. Doesn't get any easier."

Jax's expression softened, his eyes full of unspoken understanding, "Doesn't make you weak, though. Makes you stronger, if you let it."

Alu lifted her head, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in a while, she felt a small shift—like she wasn't carrying everything on her own. Maybe it wasn't much, but in that moment, it felt like a reminder that she didn't have to do it alone.

"Thanks, Jax," she said quietly, her voice holding a trace of gratitude she hadn't expected to feel.

Jax gave her a small nod, his eyes sincere, "Anytime, darlin'."

With one last glance, Alu turned toward the door, but before she stepped outside, she paused again, her voice low and almost hesitant, "You know...maybe you're right," she said, almost as if she were talking to herself more than him. "Maybe it does make you stronger." She paused, letting the words sink in, before she finally turned back to Jax with a wry smile, "Or it makes you completely screwed up."

Jax chuckled, the warmth in his smile genuine, "Yeah, welcome to my life." 

Alu couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh as she stepped out into the cool air, the tension in her shoulders loosening slightly. Chuckie was quick to his feet, racing after the girl, panting heavily. 

"Hey, wait up!" 

Alu paused, waiting for Chuckie to catch up. 

"Hey, Chuck," she greeted, swinging her arm over his shoulders. "Sorry, sometimes I forget you're there." 

And as they walked away from the clubhouse, she allowed herself a small breath of relief. Jax was right about one thing—sometimes, the weight of it all felt a little easier when you didn't have to carry it alone.

***

The soft hum of the kettle filling the kitchen broke the silence as Alu sat across from her mother, both cups of tea steaming between them on the table. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the horizon, casting long shadows across the small kitchen. Alu fiddled with her cup, tracing her finger along the rim, her mind elsewhere.

Moss was up in his room, doing his homework in silence, still refusing to acknowledge her presence, still angry. Alu had never seen him this upset before. It hurt, but she couldn't blame him. Not after everything.

Chuckie sat in the lounge room, a bowl of popcorn in his arms as he laughed hysterically at the sappy soap opera playing on the T.V., while he stuffed his face. 

Her mother, Adela, sipped her tea slowly, her eyes soft yet guarded. There was a distance in her gaze, but it wasn't the coldness Alu had become used to. It was different today, quieter. Adela had always been sharp, fiercely protective of her grandson, but today, there was something more—a kind of reluctant understanding.

"I know this isn't easy for you," Alu began, her voice tentative, unsure of where the conversation would lead. "But you have to understand, Carlos means everything to me, Mama. I want to do right by him."

Adela didn't respond right away. She took another sip of tea, her gaze fixed on her daughter, and Alu felt her mother's judgment like a heavy weight in the air. It was a familiar feeling, one she'd grown up with, but today, it didn't feel like rejection. It felt more...resigned.

"I know you do, Ana Lucia," her mother said, her tone softer than usual. "I can see it now. I can see why you did what you did. But that doesn't change everything."

Alu nodded, her hands clutching her cup tighter, "I don't want to take him from you, Ma. I just...I need him. And he needs me. I've messed up, I know, but I'm trying. I really am."

Adela's eyes softened even more, but there was still that old motherly strength in her gaze, "It's not about whether you're trying or not. Taking care of a child—it's not just about love, Ana Lucia. It's about responsibility. About stability. You're still so young. You have your own life to figure out. I can't just...hand him over to you. Not yet."

Alu's heart dropped at her words. The reality of it stung in ways she hadn't anticipated, "So, what does that mean? That I'm not good enough?!" 

Adela set her cup down with a soft clink, her voice calm but firm, "I'm not saying you're not good enough. But I don't think you're ready. Not for what it takes to raise him full-time. You're still finding your own path. You're not even settled yet, Ana Lucia. And what about Carlos? He's been through so much already, with everything that's happened. The instability—it's not good for him right now."

Alu's chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat, "But he's my son, Ma. I want to be the one to take care of him. I want to fix the damage I caused."

Adela looked at her daughter, her expression softening again, though it was clear she was still holding something back, "I'm not going to lie to him anymore. But Carlos is my son, I raised him, and I won't just hand him over. I can't, not when he needs me most."

Alu swallowed, the truth cutting deeper than she expected, "So, what are you saying? You want to keep him from me?" she asked, her voice small, barely a whisper.

"No," Adela replied quickly, shaking her head. "Not forever. But right now, he's better off with me." She paused, her gaze softening, "I want you to be a part of his life, Ana Lucia. I do. But full custody...not right now. Maybe in the future, when things are different."

Alu exhaled, the weight of her mother's words settling on her shoulders. Her mother wasn't rejecting her, not in the way she thought. But there was still a distance. Still that space between them, where understanding couldn't quite bridge the gap of the years of absence. 

***

Tara stood in the middle of the empty examination room, arms crossed, her face a mix of frustration and confusion as Jax paced in front of her, struggling to find the right words. The tension between them was thick, and both of them could feel that this conversation wasn't going to end well.

Jax finally stopped pacing and turned to face her, his jaw clenched, his eyes heavy with a mix of guilt and determination, "Tara, this...this isn't working. I can't do this anymore."

Tara blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief, "What are you talking about? You're just...giving up?"

Jax sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I'm trying to protect you. You don't belong in this life, Tara. It's dangerous, it's messy, and it's not fair to you. You deserve better."

Tara's laugh was sharp, almost bitter, "Oh, don't give me that 'protecting me' crap, Jax. This isn't about me or the life. It's about her, isn't it?"

Jax's eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head, brushing off her accusation, "What are you talking about? That's not true. You're making this into something it's not."

Tara took a step closer, her voice rising with every word, "Don't lie to me, Jax. I see the way you look at her—how you drop everything the second she calls. Don't pretend like this is about keeping me safe. You're just too much of a coward to admit the truth."

Jax's jaw tightened, his tone firm but defensive, "It's all in your head, babe. Alu has nothing to do with this. I'm doing this because I care about you, because I don't want to see you get hurt."

Tara's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She stood her ground, her voice trembling with anger, "If you cared about me, you'd be honest. But instead, you're just pushing me away—like you always do."

Jax sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as the weight of her words sank in. He wanted to argue, to deny it, but he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he looked away, his silence speaking volumes. 

Tara took a shaky breath, her voice quieter now but no less pointed, "You know what? Fine. Run to her, Jax. But don't come crawling back to me when it all falls apart. I'm done fighting for something you clearly don't want."

She turned and walked out of the clubhouse, leaving Jax standing there alone, his heart heavy with regret. Exhaling slowly, he stared at the door, knowing she wasn't wrong—but also knowing there was no going back now.

***

The dim glow of the streetlights outside cast long shadows on Alu's face as she sat in her car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling as she fought to hold back the sobs threatening to break free.

A light knock on her window startled her. Alu quickly wiped at her face, turning to see Chuckie standing there, his ever-present, awkward smile softening as he noticed her distress.

Reluctantly, she rolled down the window.

"Chuckie, what are you doing out here?" Her voice cracked despite her effort to sound indifferent.

"I, uh...noticed you didn't come back inside after your talk with your mum," Chuckie said carefully. "Thought you might need...you know, someone to talk to. Or...snacks?" He held up a bag of pretzels like it was an offering of peace.

Alu sniffed, letting out a breathless chuckle, "Pretzels, huh? You really know how to cheer a girl up." 

Chuckie's smile widened as he stepped closer, "Well, I wasn't sure if you were a chips or sweets person, so I took a gamble. Can I sit?" He gestured to the passenger seat.

Alu hesitated for a moment but finally unlocked the door. Chuckie climbed in, the small space of the car suddenly feeling oddly comforting with his quiet presence.

"You don't have to talk," he said gently, his fingerless hands resting awkwardly in his lap. "But...you look like you've been carrying a lot. Sometimes it's easier to let it out."

Alu sighed deeply, leaning back against the seat, "It's just...family. They always know how to hit you where it hurts, don't they?"

Chuckie nodded slowly, "Yeah, families are...complicated. But whatever's going on with Moss, it'll work itself out. He's a kid. Kids get upset, but they love deeply. He'll come around."

Alu turned to look at him, her eyes glassy, "You think so?"

"I know so," Chuckie said confidently. "You're great with him. And I can tell he cares about you, even if he's not showing it right now." 

Alu's lip quivered as she bit back another wave of tears, "I just...I don't want to lose him. I've already messed up so much." 

Chuckie reached over, his movements careful as if he didn't want to spook her, and patted her knee with what was left of his hand, "Hey, everyone messes up. But you're here now, fighting for him. That's what matters." 

Alu stared at him for a moment, then let out a shaky breath, "You're annoyingly good at this, you know that?" 

Chuckie shrugged with a sheepish grin, "It's a gift. Or maybe I just watch too many soap operas." 

Alu laughed for the first time that night, a real laugh that made Chuckie grin proudly.

"Thanks, Chuckie," she said softly. "For...whatever this is."

"Anytime," he replied. "Just...try the pretzels. They're not bad."

Alu rolled her eyes, opening the bag and popping one into her mouth, "Mm...Not bad."

Chuckie sat back, satisfied, "Told you. Pretzels fix everything."

"I believe that's chocolate," Alu chuckled, giving Chuckie a playful shove. 

***

The road was dark, the hum of the tires the only sound as Alu drove through the stillness of the late night. Chuckie was asleep in the back seat, snoring softly, his head resting against the window. Alu tightened her grip on the steering wheel, the argument with her mother replaying over and over in her mind like a broken record.

Her phone buzzed in the cup holder, the screen lighting up with a message from an unknown number. Her stomach sank as she glanced at it.

She reached for the phone, unlocking it with trembling fingers.

You think you're better than me? That you can just swoop in and play mummy after all this time? Guess what, Ana Lucia—you're not fit to have him either. And seeing Carlos push you away? That's the sweetest thing I've ever witnessed. Neither of us gets to have him now. How does that feel, knowing you'll never be enough for your own son? Almost makes me happy."

Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as the words sank in. It was him. Oscar. Her knuckles turned white against the steering wheel as panic and anger collided inside her.

Her mind raced, the calmness of the night shattered by her rising dread. She couldn't go home. Not like this. 

Without hesitation, she swerved sharply onto a side street, the sudden movement causing the car to lurch. Chuckie stirred slightly in the back seat but didn't wake, his snores continuing. 

She kept driving, her eyes darting between the road and her rearview mirror as if expecting Oscar to appear out of nowhere. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands shook as she gripped the wheel, the text replaying in her mind like a haunting echo.

Where could she go? Where would be safe? She glanced at Chuckie, his sleeping figure a reminder that she wasn't alone, even if she felt entirely vulnerable.

Alu swallowed hard, blinking back tears as she turned onto another random street. She didn't have a plan—only the instinct to keep moving, to stay ahead of the fear clawing at her.

***

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