llwild1992 (2015- )

Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction

Anarchy: I Don't Deserve You

Chapter One: The Dancer

-X-

"Dad," Tara shouted as she poured hot coffee into two mugs, one with milk and sugar already, "Dad, it's time to get up." She yelled again as the toast popped in the toaster, Tara pivoted on her heel and grabbed a plate, she hissed at the heat when she pinched the toast and threw it down, "Seriously dad, I need you to get up."

"Shut the fuck up Tara Grace," her father's slurred voice screamed as something was thrown against his closed door. "Go to school."

"Fine," she said, gulping down her coffee, "Breakfast is served high and mighty drunken one." Throwing her cup in the sink she quickly ran to the bathroom to brush her hair out once more. Why can't he change?

If she looked perfect, she'd feel better. She told herself as she looked in the mirror. Her brown eyes looked back at her as she took up a black bristle brush and went about smoothing her dark auburn hair. Counting to twenty on the back and sides. A little bit of mascara and lip color and she deemed herself ready to face the day. Looking down at herself she wondered how she'd be perceived. Perfect hair, clear skin so there was no need for too much makeup, and good eyebrows. However her body was a different story, rail thin. Her clothes literally handing off of her, she was at least a size 2 but the clothes she had were for size 4. Not that she had money to buy new clothes, but it was a dream. She heard her father scrambled out of his room in a haze, she stayed in the bathroom until he had gone back into his hovel.

"This will be a good day." She told herself in the mirror, almost as if she needed convincing. Taking in a deep breath she exited, quietly, and went to the front door, taking up her black and white convers she slipped them on and took her jean jacket and backpack off of the door knob. "This will be a good day." She said again as she turned to lock the door, the key was swiftly placed back in her pocket, she checked the handle, to assure herself the door was indeed locked. How sad would it be if people knew I was locking my dad in the house? She asked herself as she turned to look at her cookie cutter neighborhood, same one level homes with car ports and small lawns. Scoffing she thrusted her arms into the jacket and pulled her pack over own arm. Cookie cutter houses, families; not so much.

Walking down the dimly lit streets, she felt the soles of her feet scuff the pavement, the sound sending chills down her back. She walked to the large hedge near the bus stop and was greeted by the sight of one of her best friends. Carly, the definition of a blond; medium height with a slim waist, big boobs, blue eyes covered in tons of makeup, and a slutty attitude when it came to life. But Carly was a fun girl, sandbox love never dies. Tara should let go of Carly, they were different people with different goals, but someone needed to look out for her.

"Hey Tara, you want some of this?" Carly laughed as she held out a joint for Take to take from her. It was a nice gesture, but the wrong kind of offering. "It's a good one," she laughed, licking her lips, "so was the head I gave for it." She was joking, Tara hoped, but knowing Carly it was more than likely true.

Tara smiled lightly and shook her head as she approached her, throwing her backpack down at their feet, and sliding her hands into her back pockets, feeling her jeans fall just a bit down her hips. "It's not even seven am, Carly." she scoffed as we waited for their other friend to reach the usual spot before walking to school together.

"Its eight P.M. somewhere." She laughed in a so 'Carly' way; blunt and honest with a dash of bitch.

"You won't be saying that when you're sent to the principal's office."

"Like he'll do anything other than stare at my boobs and give me two hours detention." She held the blunt between her lips and looked down at her breasts, pulling her red blouse down her shirt to expose her black bra, "I got them," she laughed noticing Tara looked away, "So I flaunt them. When are you getting yours?" she noted in a sideways look at her flat chest, "note to self; never let my daughter do ballet for too long because she will be so freaking thin she'll have no boobs, ass, or hips."

"Thanks," Tara said agitated, "I'm a late bloomer, that's all." God I'm so hungry, god I just want to sleep, if only she knew the real reason why I'm so thin.

"Sixteen and you haven't gotten your period yet? Damn now that's fucking lucky…hey I see Mary! Yo Virgin Blood Mary!" she waved her hands as Mary came into view, "want a hit before we go?"

Mary laughed and ran towards them, her long red curls bounding in the air as she held the front of her dress down, her boots echoing across the pavement, with her bright green eyes she greeted them with a flash of teeth and then molded her clothing, "like?" she laughed, "Hound took me shopping last night, damn you two need to get sugar daddies, I'm telling you." She clapped her hands together and showed them her new bag, "Chanel!" she laughed.

"Snazzy," Carly whistled before they traded, the bag for the blunt, "Damn, this isn't even a knockoff."

"How can you tell?" Tara asked looking closer at it.

"The stitching in the lining," Mary stated as she took Carly's lighter and took a hit of the blunt, "so we hitting that party tonight?"

"Yes," Carly laughed, thrusting the purse back at Mary, "everyone is going to be there."

All accept me. "I have to work a late shift." Tara said apologetically, "sorry."

"Come on," they stomped their feet at the same time.

"You always work a late shift. Cant someone cover for you?" Mary asked with pleading eyes, "Tar-Tar needs some R&R from her big bad job as a custodian. Come to the party."

"Can't," she said, someone has to pay the bills, "next time."

"Stuck up bitch." Carly muttered as they started to walk.

"Slut," Tara said back, laughing.

"Whore," Carly said towards Mary.

"Bitch." Mary continued as they walked.

-X-

"When you're done with this you can start on the trashes." The head man said as Tara finished scrubbing the windows of the entrance of Charming's one and only hotel.

"Okay," Tara said with a smile as she wring out the wet towel and started to dry the water down, "Not a problem."

"After that, you can dump the vacuum bags in the trash out back." He said, sipping coffee.

"Alight then." She sang, why don't you every do the things you order us to do? Tara looked out into the office and looked at the other women she worked alongside.

Most illegal Mexican and Russian immigrants, middle aged, and desperate. Tata was however desperate. Taking up her water pale, she lifted, feeling the weight nearly pull her down. The room began to spin, taking a moment, she braced herself on her knees and breathed, she should have eaten the toast this morning instead of giving it to her father. The bastard probably didn't even eat it. She managed to dump the water in the back industrial sink and then took up the large roll of garbage bags. She started on the top floor, going into the rooms, this hotel rarely has patrons that clean up after themselves. Each room smelled of musk, drugs, and garbage. Holding her breath she slowly gathered the disposable things such as bags and syringes, the occasional used condom which would make her thankful for the blue coveralls and yellow gloves. This 'Charming' town is a shithole. Why do I have to be from here; Tara Grace Knowles an innocent native of the worst named town ever.

When she covered all the floors and got rid of the now exploding bag of disgustingness, she took the vacuum out back to empty it into the dumpster outside. She could barely lift it over the side to empty it, struggling, feeling the world once again spin. She nearly fell if it were for the hands suddenly at her waist.

"Shit!" Tara nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned around, "What the hell?" she asked looking upon Carly and Mary, all done up in their leather miniskirts and tube tops, make up, and overpowering perfume.

"We're springing ya." Carly said with a wink, "Let's go."

"I told you I cant." Tara whispered, looking to the door to make sure her manager wasn't coming, "Go," she took their shoulders, trying to push them on their way, but with no strength they just remained, "Have fun."

"Not without you." Mary pleaded with her bright eyes, "we use to have so much fun."

"Yeah I know," she sighed, "but that was before I had a job."

"So we're what the word was: Carpe Diem-ing you." Carly said with a mischievous smile on her red lips.

"You're ceasing the day?" Tara's refined brow raised in confusion.

"No," Mary said with a hand on Tara's shoulder, "we're ceasing you." She then pulled Tara like she weighted nothing, which she did, and lifted her over her own shoulder, "Let's go, Bitch." She said slapping Tara's butt as they ran.

"Put me down! I can't just leave, I'll be fired, Mary god damn it, let go! Ouch!"

"Shut up." Carly laughed as they ran into the nearby ally way, shoving Tara into the back before she could protest and get out. "Go hurry go!" she laughed as Mary jumped into the driver's seat and started the car.

"Don't!" Tara launched herself up, trying to open the door, finding it locked. "Come on, I need this job!" she felt all her fears bubble together in her stomach, fighting the urge to puke, Tara found herself on the verge of tears, "I can't get fired!" she protested, mentally slapping herself to stop the tears.

"You'll thank us later." Mary laughed as they sped out of there like the cops were on their tails.

Soon they reached the far part of town, near the woods, where the real parties happened. Groaning Tara was allowed out of the car, looking out at the house they were going into. She then looked down to her coveralls and yellow gloves, she smelled of soap and piss, her hair wasn't done, she had no makeup on, and she wasn't wearing a good shirt under the covers. Cursing herself she was just about ready to walk off when Mary was suddenly pulling her gloves off.

"Mary," one glove was thrown into the bushes, "I don't want to go." She sighed as Carly took down her hair, shaking it out with her hands, "Stop!" she tried to fight as Mary started to unbutton her coveralls, pulling them down her body to reveal her stained white tee-shirt under, she wasn't even wearing a undershirt.

"Don't worry," Mary laughed as she wrapped the sleeves around her waist and tied them tight, "Everyone is going to be so wasted and high in no time they won't even notice the orthopedic shoes."

"I don't want to be here." Tara covered her chest, glaring daggers at her so-called friends.

"Of course you do." Carly laughed, firing up a joint, "every sixteen year old wants to have fun on a Friday night,"

"Not those who have to work Saturday morning!" she scuffed her shoes into the dirt, "This wasn't the smartest idea you two have ever come up with."

"Tara," Carly took her shoulders in hand and shook her, "relax, one night, just give yourself one night to live, really live. Since you broke your foot a year ago you haven't been yourself. We want to see that Tara again."

I don't think she exist anymore…

Nodding her head, Tara talked herself into going in. They girls left her side almost instantly, running off to their latest boy fascination. All sorts of people where here, the most noticeable were the MC boys, the ones closest to her age, not the old men who did backdoor deals. They all had the usual biker bunnies all over them the ones with done up hair and makeup, high-rise and low cut shirts and nonexistent skirts. She smoothed her hair down out of reflect, as a ballerina; she had strived for perfection where it did not exist. Feeling as disgusting as she did, she would have rather run away. But the smell of food caught her attention, following her nose she found an empty pizza box and a plate of brownies. From the look of it she knew it was full of hash. Maybe there was juice or something; hell she'd take soda, realizing how thirsty she was. But there was just beer and other toxic shit. Taking up a few ice cubes she stuffed them into her mouth and picked a spot on the wall.

A year ago this would have been fun, not that it was her scene, but fun none the less. Music, dancing, hooking up, typical teenager shit. But she wasn't a typical teenager anymore. A few girls gave her dirty looks for what she looked like, called her dike. But it didn't hurt as badly as the pain in her stomach. She really wished she ate the toast this morning, or even bough lunch; but you need money for that; money she was using to pay the mortgage. Biting down on her lip, she braced herself against the wall, watching everyone.

Her legs felt week, but she's give it a while until she was numb and wouldn't feel a thing. Not the first time she flew on autopilot while holding a 4.0 GPA. A year and a half more that was all that was left. Reaching for another piece of ice she rubbed it against her desperate lip, feeling the cracks fill with the liquid, refreshing the cells. One more year and she was free. Closing her eyes, she listen to the raspy voice of Cobain fill the emptiness that was her state of mind. She understood why the name 'Nirvana' was perfect; the state of reasonless, of a high level of life; of the reality between death and life. It was perfect.

Someone poured liquid over her head, opening her eyes it was one of the bunnies, she smiled sarcastically, "sorry," she laughed with a bat of her eyes, "was the dike imagine her lesbian lover?"

"No," she moved away, reaching up to shake her hair.

"That's right dike, walk away, why are you even here?" she laughed walking back to her biker for the night, sitting down into his lap suggestively.

Just what I need. Tara rolled her eyes and sought a bathroom, finding couples in the throes of passion in the bedrooms, Carly one of them. Scoffing she went down into the basement, flinging a utility sink, turning it on the pipes all moaned from misuse. Waiting until the water was no longer brown or blue she hand washed her hair, the bitch had poured beer all over her. Sticking her head under the faucet, giving up, she rinsed. And the shook her hair out, feeling her tee and coveralls go wet. See through of course. Taking a few handfuls of water, she filled her thirst.

When she returned upstairs, someone pushed past her, thrusting her into a wall, "Look likes it's about to snow in Charming!" he shouted, causing an uproar.

This was not her scene. Tara scoffed, as she ran her hands through her cold and wet hair. Deciding she'd needed a moment, she went outside. The cold hit her like a ton of bricks. She shivered as the wind pushed her forwards towards the driveway that was littered with cars. Towards the end were the motorcycles the MC guys had come on. She shuttered at them, unsafe. What Tara craved for was safety, something she hadn't known since the tender age of nine.

Looking up into the night sky, she stood under the dim light off of the garage and wished she was back at work. There she knew what to expect, here, not too much.

"You okay out here?" a voice said, startling Tara, she whipped around ready to run, "hey, darling, calm down." The man held his hands out as he approached her from the shadows, "you're really jumpy."

"I'm just tired," Tara said as he came into the dim lighting, "your…" she recognized him from school, "Jackson Teller?" she asked unsure if she had placed his name correctly.

He was tall, maybe over six foot, she was rather tall for a girl her age, but he towered over her, his body was athletic with a good deal of muscle, she could tell by the expanse of his shoulders, how they bulged up, his neck was thick. It must have been Jackson Teller, he had long blonde hair, she felt the need to wash and cut it; she didn't mind long hair, but he was overdue for a trim. He was growing a slight beard, the hairs so blonde against his tan skin. He was handsome, the last she had seen of him his nose was the largest part of his face, and he had finally grown into it. His eyes a startling pale blue shown in the darkness. He was dressed how she pictured him, baggy pants, long flannel shirt and cut

"Jax." He corrected with a slight smile pulling from his lips, "we use to go to school together, didn't we." She nodded, feeling herself sway in the wind, "You're sure you are okay, darling, you look ready to pass out."

Laughing, Tara crossed her arms over her chest, "Just might."

"Who did you come here with?"

"Carly and Mary."

"Tara?" He asked her name as he stepped closer, "You're Tara, the ballerina? I remember you in all the school plays."

As if he ever watched them. "The one and only," she laughed, "Local celebrity I suppose?"

"I remember you." He said again as he cocked his head to the side, his long hair flowing with him, his blue eyes lightened to a speculating clear color, "you still dance?"

"Nope," she said, "did you drop out? I don't remember seeing you in the school after my freshman year."

"Bulls eye." He chuckled, stepping closer.

"What do you do?" she raised a brow, knowing fully well he was a member of the MC; Sons of Anarchy, most likely ran guns as they were rumored to do, ruffed some people up, smooched willing bunnies.

"I'm a mechanic for my step-father," he watched as her eyes hardened, knowing she knew he only told a half-truth, it wasn't a lie; it was more of an omission. He was wearing his cut, even though she couldn't see the back, she must have known. "What's with the coveralls?" he asked, noting the arms tied around her alarmingly slim waist. He knew she was a dancer, but should there be muscle somewhere on her body? From her arms; she was bones.

"I am; was a custodian for the Charming Maids, but after tonight I'm tanked."

"What happened?"

"My friends kind of kidnapped me during my shift."

"Sucks."

"Yeah, I was making good money." She shivered when the wind picked up. Reaching down she tried to pull the knot Mary had tied out, only finding it was too tight. Tara let out a surrendering groan, nearly on the edge of tears, but she wouldn't let herself cry in front of a complete stranger. Placing her hands upon her waist she looked to the night sky, closing her eyes. I just want to go home, I want to go to sleep, I want to wake up and have breakfast like a normal person, go to school and be a teenager. I just want…I just want…I want to die.

"Allow me," Jackson was suddenly in front of her, reaching down into his side holster and bringing out a rather large knife. His blue eyes locked onto hers in a trusting look, he was promising not to hurt her. With a nod, she gave him permission. Taking the large knot into his hand, he held one sleeve and slowly placed the knife into the seam of the knot. With a little maneuvering, he had it loose. Replacing the knife he untied her. She could have fallen over if he had breathed in her direction, she was so frail. Unrolling it, he walked behind her, holding the back for her to slip her arms into. He watched as her shaking infers slowly buttoned the offending blue coverall over her frame. It drowned her, made her look like a child playing dress up.

"How old are you?" Jax asked as she warmed her hands with her breath. She was far too young to be this sickly, from her reaction to the party she was a good girl; someone who didn't want to jeopardized her health and mind with that shit. But here she was shaking like a leaf, obviously malnutrition and ready to pass out and be admitted to the hospital.

"Sixteen," She admitted with her hauntingly beautiful brown eyes, the light in them was so dim, like her energy.

"Where are your parents?" his expression was one of scrutiny. Why the hell was she working such a late job?

"My mom died a few years ago, my dad; he's ill at the moment; I'm helping out a bit until he gets better."

Helping out a bit? No fucking way a girl can waist away that quickly. Jax scoffed and shifted on his feet, "Look I'm heading out of here, do you want a ride?" he noted the sudden look of relief on her face.

But she politely smiled and shook her head, "No thanks, I'll wait for my friends." Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jaxs slid a glance to the house, when he looked back at Tara he lifted both of his brows. She blushed and turned away, "Oh, it's becoming that type of party. I guess I'll walk." She nodded, "I'll walk." She looked towards him with a smile, "It was good seeing you again, Jackson—Jax." She started down the driveway and Jax suddenly got the feeling she wasn't going to make it home, her steps where all crooked and staggered.

"Tara," he ran after her, "let me drive you home." He took her by the arm, cringed at the feeling of nothing but bone and skin.

"No," she said, placing her hand upon his chest, her gaunt little hand, pushing him away didn't even work, "You stay, have fun, it's not a far walk." She looked up into his face and couldn't help but smile, blushing even, seeing him so clearly, "thank you for caring though." It feels nice, knowing someone is willing to care, even for a little while. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." She patted his chest, seeing the worry in his eyes.

"Not from what I see." He growled, surprising her, "I'm driving you." He stated, not taking no for an answer, placing his hand at the small of her back, afraid that if he gripped her arm he'd hurt her. She protested when presented with his 1996 Harley Davidson Electra Glide Ultra, she refused to go any farther, "it's just a bike," he whispered.

She shook her head, "I've never been on one," she said, looking to him with worry.

"Well, Darling, it's your lucky day, I've never had a girl on the back of this Baby, just got her last week." he laughed stepping forward, this time he was telling the truth, "We can experience a 'first' together." He smiled down towards her, knowing fully well he was implying something of a more physical matter. She turned this wonderful shade of rose, which made her looked healthier. He liked that look on her face, she looked free. Handing her his helmet he waited. He'd wait all night for her. "I won't bite." He smirked.

With a cocked head, she took the helmet, it was heavy enough her arm fell against her legs, "Unless I ask you too?" she smiled.

"Exactly."

"I won't," she said with all seriousness.

"Then I'll respect your decision." He laughed, likening that as much as he toyed with her, she gave it right back. Throwing his leg over the bike, he fished his keys out as he watched her strap on his helmet, "Slid up behind me." He said, offering his hand to help her over. He worried she was about to fall over when she lifted her leg to straddle the back, her smaller hand in his own made him realize his own strength, it made him fear himself when it came to a woman her size.

"Um," she raised her hands, "I don't know…"

"Hold my waist," he said, watching as she thought what to do, before she placed her hands onto his sides, lightly, not even gripping, "Darling," he balanced the bike and reached back to take her wrists, cursing himself when he was able to place his pinky so close to his thumb around her, "wrap," he gently pulled her, her body lining up against his back, wrapping her arms around his waist until her hands where over each other, placing them down he patted them, "Stay like that."

"Okay," she whispered into his ear, placing her chin onto his shoulder, "I trust you."

"Where do you live?"

"Culver, right off of Rolland; near the High School."

That's nowhere near walking distance, she wouldn't have even made it at all. Sucking in a breath he started the engine, she gripped him tight, her excitement and fear melding into one, as he pushed the kickstand up, "when you ride with me, Darling," he looked back to see the light in her eyes had returned, "I'll always have you."

"Okay," she smiled lightly against his leather, her eyes burning, they were no longer brown; they were hazel. An amber color that could have been mistaken for brown, but plain brown couldn't describe the color of Tara's eyes.

When he applied the gas, Tara bit down onto her lip as the bike went off. She suddenly became aware of how exciting this was, on the back of a machine, with no doors or padding, nothing that could protect her. But holding onto Jax Teller, she felt safe. He wouldn't do anything to harm her or to put her into danger. He turned around on the next street and headed towards her home.

She called for him to stop half a block down, it was late, but not late enough. She nearly fell as she tried to launch herself off of the bike as he locked it up. He caught her by the wrist and pulled her next to him. She felt her face go hot, as his hand cupped the side of her face, looking down at her with this strange look.

"Why are you trying to get away so quickly?" he asked.

Blinking Tara woke herself up. She wasn't trying to get away as much as she had gone numb, any moment now she was going to crash, she wanted to crash in her home and not on the pavement. "My dad is sick, I need to check on him."

"Okay," he didn't believe her, "I'll walk you to your door." It wasn't a question, Tara nearly fainted at the thought of him at her door, seeing her home. But he had wrapped his arm around her shoulder, not resting his weight, but holding her into him. He walked like a cowboy, that open gate walk; she slapped herself when she thought of why; the bike. It was a confident walk, he was a confident man, intimidating in a—kind sort of way. If that could be a description. "This is where you live?" he looked to the house she stopped at, it was in a need of repair and new grass, and a patio, and a front door. She needed a safer front door. He would put a damned front door on the house for her.

"Well," she stepped onto the stoop and turned towards him, "thanks."

"You're welcome." He smiled. "So,"

"What?"

"I want to watch you go in, then I'll leave."

"I'll be fine."

"Turn around and unlock your door."

She huffed for a moment, and then moved to the bush to her right, pulling out her backpack, fishing through one of the many pockets until she had a simple key in hand. Dropping the pack at the door, she half turned, keeping an eye on him as she unlocked the door. She had to push with her shoulder to open it but kept it nearly closed. Turning back to him she smiled.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

"Tara,"

"Yes?"

"Nothing," he said as he came onto the stoop, took her into his arms, she was so tiny, and kissed her. One simple, never evading, perfect, and innocent kiss. Her hands innocently touched his waist as she kissed him back. She was taken by surprised by this. But her mother never warned her about kissing hunky bikers at might night, so she thought it was okay. He was being appropriate for this, hands over her shoulders and stating on her neck. He held her gently, his lips pressing, not demanding. Pulling away he smiled down at her, touching her delicate face with one hand, "goodnight," he rubbed his nose against hers as she woke from her daze.

Snapping back from the infallible spell that was Jax Teller she blushed, nodded to him and quickly turned around. She was fully aware of his hand at the small of her back as she pushed the door open, she looked at his face and smiled so sweetly as she closed the door. Placing her back against the door, she touched her heart, feeling it for the first time that night, it was racing. She could hear him, a thud, was he leaning against the door. He was breathing so heavily, like she was. She didn't know how long she was there, but he finally left. His ominous engine slowly crossed her house and road off.

Closing her eyes, she walked to her room, pulled off her clothing and fell into her bed. Half in the pillow she peered over at her clock, 1 am.

Crap, I have to be up in four hours for the bakery….fuck. Closing her eyes she allowed herself to drift off into a light slumber, knowing she would have another long day of work and toil ahead of her. But for now she would let herself dream beyond tomorrow, dream of a handsome man and his Harley. Just this once.

TBC...

Page Count: 11

Word Count: 5281

Hey, so this is my first SONS fic, and I hope I am welcomed into this side of FF. I have been obsessed with SONS for year and am so sad it's over. I always wanted to know Jax and Tara's back story, so this is my vision. Hope you all like it.