Out West SOA fanfic chapter 1
By El Chacal
Summary: In 2002, when the New York Crew suddenly became too crowded with members, President Rango sent a batch of new patches out west. Among them is Coyote.
Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, I would have worked with Kurt Sutter to introduce the character into SOA or Mayans MC. Since that's not happened, it's all fiction. The original characters are created in collaboration between myself and TellatrixForever. Please don't sue. Thanks.
Coyote and Opie sat side by side on the billiards table as Chibs looked them over for any possible burns, wounds or improvised shrapnel.
"Where's Kyle?" Clay asked.
"He took off but not before nearly killing us on the way out." Coyote said.
"Everything was lined up and ready to go. Then we heard a police siren. Kyle freaked. He dropped one of them, setting off a domino effect."
"One flash went up and then everything went out of control." Coyote growled. "Opie and I got out quick enough to not burn to death."
"By that time, the cops arrived. We had to run for it and lay low until it was safe to get to the getaway car. Coyote was smart to leave it parked at a distance from the truck yard." Opie finished.
"As for Kyle, I don't know where he is but if the cops didn't get him, he's probably running for the nearest state line." It didn't take a genius to tell how angry he was at Kyle's actions.
Clay turned to Bobby. "Reach out to Quinn. Have him put the word out to the Nomads. If Kyle's fled the state, I want him found and brought back here for church."
A young man brought over a beer for Opie and a shot of spiced rum for Coyote. "He's right. You don't want to wipe out on the road because you're pushing yourself too hard."
Polishing off the shot of rum, Coyote looked at the man with a grim smile. "Are you looking to start Prospecting?"
"It's been a year since they let me hang out here. By the next time they meet up for church, I might find out if I'll get the Prospect kutte."
"What's your name?"
"Juan Carlos Ortiz."
Coyote smiled. "New Yorker?"
"Yeah. I'm from Queens. How did you know?"
With a hand extended, Coyote smiled. "I'm from Brooklyn."
Juan accepted Coyote's hand and shook it. "Was it hard to Prospect?"
"They don't make it easy. The hangaround year took some time. I had to really see what I was getting myself into. When the time came to make the decision, I didn't have a doubt in my mind."
"Coyote, we have an empty dorm room here. Crash out here for the night. Tomorrow is our pay day."
Opie looked to Juan and said, "Take him there. Whatever he needs, see that he gets it."
"Juan, get my bags off my Road King and bring them to me." Coyote instructed. From his time as a Prospect, Coyote learned many things. Among them were to know when to pack for an overnight stay.
With the saddlebags in hand, Juan led Coyote to the dorm room. Upon looking inside, Coyote quickly settled in. "Juan, in the morning, get me a breakfast. Four eggs, over easy. Four strips of crispy bacon. Cuban toast. An espresso with two sugars."
"Sure. I'm on it. When do you want it?"
"I'm waking up at 8. At that moment."
"Close the door behind you." Coyote instructed. Once he was by himself, Coyote pondered how he wound up so far from New York and everything that happened along the way. He could have stayed in Chicago, Philadelphia or even New Jersey. Instead, he kept riding further away from the Big Apple.
He brushed his teeth and washed his face, feeling relief from the familiar rituals he did before retiring for the night. Even though it was only a year ago, he still remembered Mallory telling him that he would one day have a family that would be better than the one he was born into. She was always kind and supportive yet suffered no fools.
Turning off the lights, Coyote laid down on the bed and fell asleep.
The next morning, while saddled up at the bar, Coyote drank his espresso while polishing off his plate of over easy eggs, Cuban toast and crispy bacon. It was a welcome moment of peace. Then a voice spoke up.
"How are you holding up after last night, kid?"
Coyote looked over to the vice president of SAMCRO, Piney, and raised his espresso in acknowledgement. "Opie and I made it out in one piece. The only down side is that Kyle is far enough that I can't knock his block off."
"You'll have to wait in line behind me." Piney growled. "I want to thank you for being there. You may have kept Opie from ending up in the hospital or in prison. What made you want to get involved?"
"The Caveman taught me many things. Among them was to read people. That instinct makes all the difference."
"The Caveman? He was your sponsor?"
Coyote nodded grimly. "Yes, he was. I was the last one he ever took on."
"Where is he now?"
"The last time I saw him was two months before the Twin Towers fell. The New York Crew was getting too crowded. Twenty Sons were spread out to other charters. I was one of them. Even now, I still wonder why I kept riding further west. Then word got out to me that he went Nomad."
"There's no way you could have known what was going to happen in September. No one could have ever expected something that bad. Your sponsor, did he ever tell you why he went Nomad?"
Coyote took a hard pull on his coffee, steeling himself as he recalled hearing the news from Sharky. "He didn't have to. In fact, I never heard from him. His Old Lady was among the casualties. The Sons in New York tried to console him and help him through the grieving process. It was too much for him. I grieved for him and Mallory. Some time later, I got a call from the New York Crew telling me that The Caveman joined the Nomads. Then, without warning, he was gone."
"Gone?" Piney asked.
"The Nomads have been known to go off the grid but few have ever gone completely off the face of the earth. Apparently, The Caveman is one of those few."
Reaching over the bar, Piney fished out a tall shot glass, poured a double shot of aged tequila and passed it to Coyote. Giving a nod of thanks, Coyote raised it in a toast. "To The Caveman, wherever he is, and to Mallory, rest in peace."
Downing the double shot, Coyote finished off his breakfast. "How long are you staying in California?"
"From what I understand, Opie and I are supposed to get paid for our work. Once I get the jack in my pocket, I'm on the road back to Vegas." Once the breakfast was finished, Coyote asked, "Should I leave this for the hangaround to clean up?"
"Don't sweat it, kid. We've got a few Prospects who'll clean up for you."
Piney and Coyote turned to see the Sergeant at Arms of SAMCRO, Tig, walk in with a beautiful, long haired woman under his arm. She looked at Piney with a wistful smile on her face. "You're having tequila this early in the day?"
"Olivia, the limeys may have tea time but out here in America, we got happy hour. Besides, you can't fuck up a shot of tequila like you could with a pot of boiled horse piss."
"As long as you're riding sober with your head on your shoulders, I got no problem with how you drink." Olivia said, taking the older man's crass temperament in stride.
"New Patch, you got your stuff in the dorm room?" Tig asked.
"Yes, I do." Coyote replied.
"Well, my Old Lady and I have just got in from a long ride up north. You got a minute to grab your stuff from there before you get an eyeful of what we do early in the morning."
Immediately dropping the plates and silverware back on the bar, Coyote quickly ran to the room, threw everything that was his into the saddlebags and got out in time to see Tig walk into the room with Olivia straddling his front, both legs wrapped around his torso and both arms around his neck.
Piney grinned in amusement at the look on Coyote's face. "Is that how he is on a good day?"
"Be glad you didn't catch him on a bad one. He once put a Prospect in a suspended position at a trauma center. Long story short, it involved his now ex wife."
"Enough said. For now, if it's alright, I'll get my bags back on my bike and put in some work in the gym."
"Go ahead. Even if this isn't your charter, every SOA clubhouse is your home. Remember that." Piney said.
"I will. Thanks for the drink, VP."
Once he was done with the first oil change of the day, Jax noticed the Son from Nevada throwing punches at the heavy bag nearby the fighting ring. It wasn't long before Jax heard about what happened with the late night barbecue. "How long ago was he patched in?"
"2001. He's only a year or so into his membership but he stood his ground while Kyle took off. The kid must have had one hell of a sponsor." Bobby said.
"Another New Yorker?" Chibs asked, throwing a glance at the tall, lean Son as he took a break from throwing punches to doing push ups. "He's one of twenty that left New York and jumped to different charters. What do you think, Jax?"
"Right now, he's still as fresh as those patches on his kutte. If he makes it to 5 years, who knows? There might be a seat for him at the redwood table."
"If he is able to stand his ground better than a Son with more years under his belt, that's something to take notice of." Bobby remarked as he washed up. "I'm taking five."
Jax and Chibs watched Bobby approach Coyote and talk with him for a minute before they both went into the clubhouse together. "How are you holding up after she left?"
"Let's get back to work. Tripping on regret isn't going to fix a car or change what happened. She made her choice to leave." Jax said, putting his attention on the latest car to be serviced at Teller-Morrow Auto Repair & Tire Garage.
Coyote waited patiently as Bobby counted out his part for the truck yard job. Upon receiving the stack of money, Coyote counted it himself. "Is Opie getting the other half of Kyle's part?"
"Deserters don't get a dime. An extra five grand doesn't add up to the risk you guys took but it's a little extra in your pocket." Bobby said as he closed up the safe. "Where are you headed to after this?"
"I met someone two months back. The minute the phone's in my hand, I'll reach out to her and set something up. If she's up for it, I'm headed south. If not, it's back to Vegas." Coyote replied, mentally setting aside a thousand dollars as tribute for the coffers of SAMVEN as he put the 15 grand in his inner kutte pocket. Then a thought occurred to him. "Did Kyle have anyone who thought he was reliable or dependable?"
Bobby grimaced. "Yeah. That prick has an Old Lady and a boy. Even before this happened, we all thought Kyle was way out of his league with her."
"How old's the kid?" Coyote asked.
"12. Maybe 13. What's rattling around in your head, brother?" Bobby asked.
'A choice I could make." Coyote was silent for a minute as he gathered his thoughts together. "Do they live in town?"
Bobby nodded. "She's close with Opie's Old Lady. You can talk with Opie when he gets back."
April Hobart made the sauteed vegetables while Donna Winston made the roast chicken in the kitchen while Charlie played a few video games in the living room with Kenny and Ellie.
"Opie's never invited any member of the club over for dinner with us. Not even Jackson has come over." Donna said, thinking aloud. The club was always a shaky topic of discussion and one she did not like to openly discuss.
"I have a few theories. If anything, we'll both get answers to the questions we're not asking out loud." April said.
"What are you not asking?" Donna asked.
"Kyle hasn't come home since last night. For a minute, I didn't think much about it. Then I got the invite for me and Charlie to come here by Opie. He's never done anything like that before."
"Whatever happened, he probably wanted to talk to you without raising questions from Charlie."
Thankfully, the table was already set for dinner before the kids got caught up in their video games. Just as they finished the last touches on the food, April and Donna heard the familiar sounds of motorcycles approaching.
"It's time." April said as she helped Donna take everything out to the dining room.
Opie sat at the head of the table with Donna and their kids to his right. To his left was Coyote. Next to him was April and her son, Charlie. Much to Donna's surprise, the Son Opie invited into their home was better behaved and more well spoken than she expected. He never talked in front of the children what the club did, much to her relief.
Instead, he talked about his home back in New York, the walks he took through Central Park, his upbringing and his first job after high school.
Then, in a move that really made an impression on Donna, Coyote offered to help clean up the kitchen and wash the dishes. April listened to Coyote but she also saw the look in his eyes whenever he looked at her or Charlie. There was a lot he was not saying out loud.
No kuttes were allowed at the dinner table so Opie and Coyote left them on the coat rack.
While Opie and Donna were watching the kids play a few games of kick ball in the back yard with the patio lights on, Coyote was able to talk with April privately in the kitchen.
Once the kitchen duties were done and the entire area was clean, April wasted no time and got straight to it. "I know about the life and what the club does. So tell me everything. What happened last night on the job and where is Kyle?"
"He heard sirens, freaked out, botched one of the cocktails, nearly got me and Opie killed and took off. The club's looking for him. If he doesn't show up by tomorrow, it's because he fled the state of California. Had I not been there, things would have probably turned out worse for Opie and his family."
"That son of a bitch." April bowed her head to keep from misdirecting her anger at a Son who was, by comparison, more of a man than Kyle ever was. Then he asked a very direct question. "Were you depending on Kyle's cut of the profits?"
"We're not starving or fighting to make ends meet but we're still in the red. For the most part, I'm the one bringing in the most money and the one paying most of the bills. Why do you ask?"
"Follow me." Coyote led April to the living room, where he reached into the inner pocket of his kutte and pulled out the thick brick of cash from his pocket. "SAMCRO does not pay deserters for abandoning brothers the way Kyle did. Opie's got a family to provide for. So do you. That's why I'm doing this." Coyote took five thousand dollars from the stack and put it into April's hand. "There are no strings attached. You owe me nothing. This is for you and your son."
April felt her heart swell in her chest at the selfless act done for her. "Thank you."
"I ought to go say my goodbyes to Opie and Mrs. Winston. There's a long road ahead of me." Just as he was about to grab his kutte, April put her hand on his arm. "Allow me. It's the least I can do."
Taking the kutte with the Nevada bottom rocker from the coat rack, April helped put it on Coyote's back as he looked at himself in the mirror next to the coat rack. "Mrs. Hobart, what are you planning to do when the club finds Kyle?"
"Divorce. The only good thing to come out of our marriage was Charlie. That's why I don't hate him as much as I ought to. As for the formalities, you can call me April."
Coyote nodded in reply. "I hope things turn out better for you and Charlie, April."
While Coyote walked out to the back yard to say his goodbyes, April looked herself in the mirror and sighed to herself. Whether he knew it or not, Coyote's actions would inspire April to support the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club for many years to come.
Taking a rest in Fresno while on his trek south, Coyote took out his phone and dialed a number he had programmed. If she wasn't there, he would have to ride though the night non stop all the way to Las Vegas. If he was lucky, he would make it just before sunrise.
After a few minutes, a voice came onto the line.
"It's been a while. What's up, Coyote?"
"I'm in town. Might be passing by Bakersfield. Thought about you and wondered what you were up to." Coyote said, smiling at what she was probably doing.
"I just got in from a San Diego run but I can use the company. Do you still remember where I live?"
"Yes, I certainly do. After nearly shaking hands with the reaper, I could use something to take the edge off."
"I'll see you very soon, Cricket." Coyote said before hanging up. Jumping on his motorcycle, Coyote got back on the road with a clear set destination in mind.
Once he crossed the threshold, Coyote did not bother with small talk. He pulled her up into his arms and kissed her. She kissed him back just as passionately. Though she was not extremely endowed, Coyote still fondled and sucked her B cup breasts eagerly.
Before long, they were in her bed, fucking each other as if there were no tomorrow. It started in the missionary position with him on top and ended with her riding him hard and fast.
When they finally climaxed and were left breathing heavy in each other's arms, Cricket looked up at Coyote. "What happened tonight that you couldn't tell me over the phone?"
Pulling her closer, reveling in the feel of her warm body against his, Coyote told her about a member who panicked during a job, botched it, nearly got him and another Son killed and ditched them. "How did you end up there in the first place? You're from the Nevada charter."
"Clay was curious about why so many Sons were leaving the Big Apple all at once. Since I was the nearest one to the mother charter, he summoned me to the redwood table. I showed up, met the members of the mother charter. I didn't have any problem with most of them, except for one."
"The one who nearly got you and your fellow Son killed?" Cricket asked.
"Yeah. The Sons are hunting him down. When they get him, I want to be there to make sure he gets what's coming to him."
"Take it easy. Getting worked up about it isn't going to fix anything." Cricket ran one hand over Coyote's chest and the other through his hair. "It's late. For now, go to sleep. You can head out in the morning. I don't want you to wipe out on the road because I rode you too hard."
Coyote chuckled as he kissed her on the top of her head.
On the armchair next to the bedroom door lay Coyote's SOA kutte next to Cricket's Hell Cats kutte.
A/n: There it is. The first chapter of an alternate SOA universe where Coyote wound up in or near the West Coast. If it's good enough to leave a review, great. If it is not, do not troll me on the reviews.