Communication had been dead for two days. Held up in a six by seven room of concrete, brick, and iron in Ashland, Oregon, he’d no doubt his disappearance had caused a sizable amount of bewilderment within the Sons ranks. Vanishing without word hardly lent to peace of mind, and he’d no doubt he’d meet a considerable amount of chastisement once he returned to Charming’s borders. More pressing than anything else, Alison surfaced to his mind, and the panic she may or may not have felt. Calls hadn’t been allowed until a few hours previously; six, he thinks. Nearly four and a half hours away from home, he’d no confidence his sister would surface any time soon.
Rough hands working over his face Chibs sat in relative silence, hunched on the holding cell’s only bench hardly fit for the two men that had been inside—his company had left the previous day. Instructions provided to her had been rather simple: retrieve a number of thousands from the safe in his bedroom, attach his trailer from his backyard to her car, and travel up to get him. There was a hope she would arrive soon, but knowing her, she’d drag it out as long as she could for punishment.
There was a bitterness that laced Alison’s tone, a pinch of hostility and annoyance spat into her phone’s receiver. Obscenities that may have been the product of lack of sleep and a nauseating amount of worry fell on the ears of the older Telford, who sat in a cell four hours away. She could have been more understanding fact was trouble always found Filip whether he sought it out or not, but understanding was not in the cards today. The last two days were spent pacing her apartment, waiting for something —- any indication that her brother was still alive —- but nothing came. For a moment she’d even contemplated filing a missing persons report, sure contacting the authorities went against everything she believed in and everything she’d been taught, but for Filip she’d do just about anything. It was funny how quickly lines would blur when her brother was involved. There was no sense of right or wrong, just an overwhelming need to protect him that outweighed that pesky little moral compass.
Nicotine stained digits found the bridge of her nose, applying pressure to ease the steady ache that made it’s home in her skull. Several hours —- and several traffic violations —- later she found herself at her destination, dragging her feet just a bit as she made her way into the precinct. She was half tempted to drag it out, leave him to worry and suffer like she had. A petty attempt at revenge, but at this point she just wanted him home and safe. Maybe that was the mother in her, despite the fact that Filip was Alison’s elder she still found herself fussing over him and she’d probably have it out with him once they were back in the confines of her vehicle.
Eyeing his weary figure her lips twisted into something that resembled a frown. It wasn’t her first time in a jailhouse and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last. But there was just something about seeing him behind bars —- like some sort of common criminal —- that didn’t sit right with her. Because she held him in such high regard, because at times like this she could see the weight this lifestyle put on his shoulders. He was only human. As she approached the front desk, fiddling with the envelope of cash in her hands she quietly motioned to the Scot with a tilt of her head depositing the envelope before her.
“M’here t’bail out th’prick wit’ th’accent.”