Tara sat in the chair near the picture window overlooking her back yard, her hands shaking. It had been nearly three hours since she'd discovered the pink rose petals on her car's windshield, and she still couldn't calm her nerves.

A very small part of her had hoped Jax left them there. When they dated in high school, he did sweet things like that from time to time. But when she saw him at the shop while she was dropping her car off for a tune-up, he didn't act like a man trying to woo his former flame. In fact, he declined her request for a ride home, instead pawning her off on his evil mother. The news that he was leaving to go to Nevada for the weekend only added insult to injury. The thought of Jax being so far away made Tara feel vulnerable.

Tara wasn't sure why she always went running to Jackson Teller when she was in trouble, but it seemed to be becoming a habit. He was safe. He was familiar. And she knew that he would do everything in his power to protect her, regardless of whether they were together or not. They were each other's first loves. That sort of bond is powerful. Tara felt the pull of it every day, no matter how many thousands of miles she traveled or how many other men's beds she slept in.

She surveyed the contents of her father's office. It was going to take her months to clear the clutter from his house. It hadn't been properly cared for in over 20 years. Not since her mother's death had anything been organized, dusted, or updated the way it should have been. Tara was too young to take care of the house when her mother died, and her father was always too drunk to care. As she got older, Tara spent as much time away from home as she could. The fact that the highly sought after Jackson Teller was her boyfriend probably had a lot to do with that. As soon as she was of age, she ran as far from Charming as possible and never planned on looking back. In her absence, her father's alcoholism worsened, as did the condition of the house he rarely left. Tara wasn't sure what played a bigger role in his death- the booze or the stagnancy.

She tried to let her mind wander, tried to focus on something, anything, other than the horrible truth behind the rose petals on her windshield, but she couldn't. Although she wouldn't let her head accept it, her gut knew who they were from the moment she saw them. Josh Kohn was in Charming. He had to be. And that posed a danger to not only Tara, but everyone around her.

Tara met ATF Agent Josh Kohn during the second year of her internship at Chicago Presbyterian. He was working on a case involving an organized crime ring, and his star witness was one of Tara's patients. He'd been brought in with a broken jaw and cigarette burns on his arms and torso. He was under constant protection. Kohn visited him daily. In a place full of so much awfulness, his smiling face and kind greetings became a welcome bright spot in Tara's days. So she was pleasantly surprised the first time he asked her out to dinner.

Josh Kohn was Jax Teller's polar opposite, which was the thing Tara tried to convince herself she liked most about him. He worked for the law, rather than an organization that was constantly breaking laws. He was stable, career oriented, dependable. But, just like every other man Tara had dated since leaving Charming, he was no Jackson Teller. She couldn't connect with Josh the way he wanted her to, couldn't love him fully or give her heart to him, because she'd already given her heart away long ago. The more he sensed that, the more desperate and possessive he became. He would show up at Tara's work unannounced, following her through the halls as she did her rounds. She often found him waiting for her in her apartment when she got home, even though he didn't have a key. Tara felt like he was always watching her, no matter where she was or what she was doing.

Tara was horrified when she found out she was pregnant with Josh's baby. Not only was she not ready to be a mother, but she couldn't imagine being connected to a man like Kohn for the rest of her life. Their relationship wasn't working, and she needed to end it. She tried, several times, to break things off, but he continued to stalk and harass her. He became violent and obsessive to the point that Tara had to take out a restraining order against him. But even a court order didn't stop Josh from stalking Tara incessantly, which is how he found out about the abortion. When she returned home from the clinic where she'd had the procedure performed, Josh was waiting for her. He flew into a rage, attacking her verbally and physically. Tara was sure he was going to kill her. Luckily, a neighbor heard her cries for help and called the police. Josh was arrested, and Tara was halfway back to Charming by the time he posted bail. She should have known he would follow her.

Tara ran her fingers over the smooth metal casing of the revolver she held in her lap. She'd aimed it at just about every object in her house over the past hour, and imagined herself pulling the trigger. She told herself that if it came down to it, she would have no problem shooting her ex-lover. But in reality, it had been over a decade since Tara had fired a gun, and even then it wasn't at a person. To say she was out of practice would have been an understatement.

She decided to take a shower in an attempt to calm her nerves. She was so tense, all her muscles were aching. She made sure all of the doors and windows were locked before heading into the bathroom. She took the gun and her cell phone with her, setting them both on the window ledge just outside the shower stall. She turned on the water, locked the bathroom door, undressed, and climbed into the shower.

She closed her eyes, letting the hot water massage her sore, tired body. She concentrated on her breathing, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling slowly through her mouth. After several minutes, she felt peace returning to her mind. The rose petals started to feel like a bad memory. Josh Kohn started to feel like a bad memory. So when she opened her eyes and saw the shower curtain pulled back and her ex-boyfriend standing in front of her, for a brief moment, she thought she was imagining it. But the smell of his cheap cologne and the feel of his breath on her bare skin assured her that she was not. She tried to scream, but his hand was over her mouth before any sound came out.

"Ah, ah, ah…" he cautioned. "Easy, Tara. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm just here to talk." Completely exposed, Tara tried to cover herself. "Don't be shy, baby," Kohn said, looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. "I've seen it all before."

"What are you doing here?" Tara asked, her voice cracking. She was shaking uncontrollably, her heart beating so fast she thought it might explode.

"I told you," Josh said, his voice calm and cold. "I came to talk." Tara eyed the revolver on the window sill. Josh stood between her and her only chance at defending herself.

"Okay," she said, trying to appease him. "We can talk. But can I please put on some clothes?" Josh smiled, admiring her naked body with his eyes. She shuddered.

"Sure thing," he agreed.

"M-my robe, please," Tara stammered, pointing to the pink terrycloth robe hanging from a hook on the back of the bathroom door. When Josh turned to get it, Tara lunged for her gun.

"You stupid bitch!" he yelled, spinning around and grabbing her by the wrist. She tried to pull away from him, but he was too strong. He shoved her backward, away from the gun. She slipped in the wet bathtub, falling into the shower wall. Her head hit the tile with a loud crack. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Josh Kohn standing over her, a wicked, satisfied smile on his face.

"You know how to ride?" Jax asked the cute blonde who was staring at him with wide eyes. She'd just watched him beat her boyfriend to a bloody pulp with his motorcycle helmet, and couldn't decide whether she was terrified or turned on. "Darlin'," Jax repeated, "can you ride this bike?" He motioned to her boyfriend's lipstick red motorcycle. She nodded. "Then it's yours," Jax said, flashing her a quick smile.

"Here," Bobby added, handing her the wad of cash he'd pilfered from the man's wallet as he writhed in pain on the ground, bleeding profusely from his nose and mouth. "Treat yourself to something nice."

"Okay," she squeaked, still in shock. She stuffed the money in her pocket, put on her helmet, shot her ex-boyfriend an evil glare, and took off on her new motorcycle. He tried to call out after her, but talking wasn't an easy task with a shattered jaw.

"We gotta get him outta here," Bobby said as a car pulled into the near deserted gas station.

"I got it," Jax said, grabbing the man under his arms and lifting him up. He groaned in protest. "Am I hurting you?" Jax asked, feigning concern as he dragged him toward the side of the building. The man nodded. "Good, you piece of shit," Jax seethed. "I want you to think about what happened here today before you ever lay your hands on another woman or another man's bike again. You got me?" The man nodded once more. Jax pulled him onto a bench near the back of the building. He propped him up, the man slumping only slightly when Jax let him go. He would be fine. Sore, but fine. "Have a nice day," Jax said, grinning.

As he headed back toward where his and Bobby's bikes were parked, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He'd been so focused on the task of hiding the douchebag he'd just assaulted, he hadn't noticed it before. A late model black sedan was parked at the very edge of the parking lot. Its occupants seemed to be watching him intently.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed. The last thing he needed was some asshole good samaritan calling the police. He was trying to stay under the radar, so that the Mayans wouldn't complicate his trip. But a high speed police chase down the Nevada freeway would definitely get their attention. The man in the car was wearing sunglasses, his hands tight on the steering wheel. The woman was staring at Jax, wide eyed, some sort of scarf covering her face. From a distance, she almost looked like…

"Tara?" Jax muttered to himself, taking a step toward the car to get a better look. What he initially mistook for a scarf was actually duct tape over her mouth, and her hands appeared to be pinned behind her back. "Holy shit, Tara!" he yelled, breaking into a sprint as he pulled out his gun. "Bobby!" he screamed, hoping his armed companion would hear his cry for help. As he ran toward the car, its driver started the engine. He looked vaguely familiar, but Jax couldn't place his face.

Jax lunged for the car as it took off, landing with a thud on the trunk. He was sure he'd cracked at least one rib, maybe more. He could hear his former flame's muffled sobs through the duct tape as she tried to scream for him. The car picked up speed as Jax made his way onto the roof. The driver swerved erratically, trying to throw him. Jax pulled himself to the front passenger side of the roof. He held on for dear life as he lowered his face to Tara's window, only a pane of glass between them. Her face was wet with tears, the duct tape tight across her skin. There was blood on her tank top, and her hands and feet were bound with zip ties.

Jax made eye contact with her, hoping to reassure her. "Turn your head," he mouthed. She nodded, seeming to understand. She turned her head, leaning into her captor as Jax shattered the window with his elbow.

"Stop the car, you sick fuck!" he screamed through the gaping hole where the window had just been. The man behind the wheel, who he now recognized as the ATF Agent who'd been poking around Charming the past few weeks, responded by speeding up, turning the wheel sharply. It was all Jax could do to hold on. He couldn't let go, even for a second, to fire his gun. "I'm gonna get you out of here," he promised Tara. His words brought fresh tears to her eyes.

The car came to an abrupt stop, throwing Jax forward, off the roof and onto the hood. He managed to grab onto the lip of the hood just as the car took off again. Tara's eyes widened as she tried to scream some sort of warning. Her kidnapper sneered at Jax. Jax twisted his body to look behind him, and noticed that they were fast approaching what appeared to be an abandoned building at the end of an industrial side street. He imagined Tara was yelling at him to let go, but there was no way he was letting this guy get away with her. His only hope was that the maniac would change his mind, and decide not to risk his own life by slamming into a brick wall in an attempt to kill Jax.

Jax and Tara locked eyes. If this was his end, he wanted her face to be the last thing he saw. Out of nowhere, Bobby appeared. He rode up beside the out of control car, shooting out the driver's side window. Eye to eye with Josh Kohn, he gave him one final chance.

"Stop the car," he warned. Kohn simply smiled and pressed harder on the accelerator. Bobby responded by putting a bullet in his brain. Kohn slumped forward, blood soaking his freshly pressed suit shirt. Bobby tucked his gun back into his kutte, then reached his free hand into the car and turned the wheel, just seconds before impact with the building and what would have likely been sudden death for Jax. The car began to slow, but was still traveling at a rate of speed that made it impossible for Jax to let go of the hood.

"You have to stop the car!" Bobby yelled to Tara. She nodded, scooting as close to Kohn's dead body as she could. With her hands and feet bound, she tried to contort her body so that she could reach the gear shift.

"You can do this, babe," Jax encouraged her, hoping to God he was right. Tara managed to work her face in between the steering wheel and the dashboard. She used her chin to try to lift the gear shift into park. It was no use. She wasn't strong enough.

"You got it, sweetheart," Bobby said, still riding tandem to Kohn's car, his hand on the steering wheel to keep it steady. "You have to do this." From what Tara could see, it looked like they were in some sort of empty lot, probably attached to the abandoned building. It had to end somewhere. And when it did, they would inevitably hit something, which meant the man she'd loved since she was sixteen would likely die in front of her eyes, all because he was trying to save her. She couldn't let that happen. It was her turn to save him. She focused her thoughts and envisioned the gear shift sliding into park as she tried, one more time, to budge it. Much to her surprise, it worked. The shifter flew up to the highest setting, bringing the car to a violent halt. Tara's head slammed into the dashboard, sending a shock of excruciating pain through her entire body. She couldn't see Jax, but she felt the weight of the car shift as his body was thrown from the hood. She screamed, the duct tape trapping the sound in her throat, burning it like acid. She closed her eyes and collapsed into uncontrollable sobs, just inches from the dead body of her tormentor, the man who might have cost her the only person who truly mattered to her.

The passenger door opened, and Tara felt hands around her waist, pulling her gently toward freedom. Her face was still lodged between the steering wheel and the dashboard, so it took a few tries, but eventually she felt herself falling backward, into the open air. She couldn't see through her tears, but she felt someone tugging carefully on the duct tape over her mouth. She winced as her skin tore with the tape, but was thankful to be able to breathe. She took several deep breaths, coughing and crying with each one, as her savior went to work on the tape wrapped around her wrists. She felt the cool metal blade of a knife against her skin as it cut through the thick tape. Once her hands were free, she began wiping at her eyes frantically, hoping to regain her sight, hoping to see how badly Jax was injured. Hoping that Jax was just injured, and not dead like Kohn.

"Bobby," she managed to choke out between sobs, "where's Jax?" Once her ankles were freed, she stretched her legs, hoping to be able to find the strength to stand. She blinked several times, her vision finally starting to come back into focus.

"I'm here," a familiar voice reassured her as Tara felt Jax's arms wrap around her. She breathed in his scent, trying to match her ragged breathing to his. "I'm okay," he promised. "We're okay."

"I'll call Clay," Bobby said, his voice sounding far away. Tara realized that Jax had been the one to pull her from the car, not Bobby.

"I'm sorry," Tara cried, her voice hoarse. "Jax, I'm so sorry." Jax took her face in his hands, pulling it close to his. When their eyes met, she was overcome with emotion. She was covered in blood, dirt and tears, but at least Tara was in the arms of the man she loved. Her body shook violently as she sobbed.

"Tara," Jax whispered, kissing her repeatedly on the forehead as the two of them half sat, half laid on the ground. "Sssshhh…it's okay." After a few minutes, she calmed down. She touched Jax's face with trembling hands, admiring his beauty. He brushed a strand of tangled, dirty hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You're okay," he promised, pressing his lips gently against hers. She kissed him back, feeling the stress leave her body, feeling herself full of a different emotion entirely.

"Thank you," she murmured, resting her aching head on Jax's chest.

"Hey," he chuckled half-heartedly. "I'm all about the service, darlin'. Now you wanna tell me what the hell that was about?"

Tara awoke in a small, dimly lit room that reeked of booze and sex. It had been nearly four hours since the SAMCRO cavalry had arrived at the scene of Josh Kohn's death. While Clay and his crew went about deciding how to dispose of the body and all the evidence, Piney drove Jax and Tara to Jax's original destination, the clubhouse of a Nevada motorcycle club the Sons were planning on patching over.

One of the club members, an elderly man with a long, gray ponytail and a beard that rivaled Bobby's, was a retired Army doctor. He diagnosed Jax with a few cracked ribs and glued a gash on his elbow closed. Tara only had a mild concussion and a myriad of scrapes and bruises. They'd both been treated to fresh coffee and hot showers, and Tara had been given an oversized Devil's Tribe t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants to wear by the club's bartender, Cherry.

She sat up slowly in the uncomfortable bed that she was sure was swimming in bacteria. There was a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the bedside table that she assumed was for her. She had a splitting headache, and her throat was sore from crying. She jumped when the toilet in the attached bathroom flushed.

"Hey, beautiful," Jax smiled as he opened the door separating the bedroom and bathroom. "How ya feelin'?" He was wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants that hung below his waistline, exposing his boxers. Much to Tara's delight, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Hey," she answered quietly. Jax took a seat on the bed beside her, leaning over to kiss her sweetly on the forehead.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked. Tara shook her head. During the ride to the Devil's Tribe's clubhouse, she'd explained her sordid past with Kohn to Jax and Piney, and recounted in as much detail as she could remember the events that led to her abduction. She was all talked out. "Okay," Jax agreed. "I just want you to know, everything's taken care of. This will never blow back on you. I promise." Tears stung Tara's eyes. Jax had quite literally just almost died protecting her, yet his primary concern was still keeping her safe.

"Thank you, Jax," she said. "I'm really so sorry about all this, I just-"

"Hey," Jax interrupted, pressing a finger to Tara's lips. "I told you to stop apologizing, and I meant it." Tara nodded. There was a light knock at the door. "Come in," Jax called. The small girl Tara recognized as Cherry appeared.

"Hey," she said quietly. "I washed your clothes. I couldn't get all the blood out, but you can barely see it." She set a small pile of folded laundry at the end of the bed. Tara stared in horror at the jeans and tank top Kohn had forced on her before he dragged her out of her house and into his car. She swallowed hard.

"Is it okay if I just wear this home?" she asked. "I promise I'll send it back to you." Cherry waved her hand nonchalantly.

"Don't even worry about it, sugar," she said. "Consider it a Devil's Tribe souvenir." She offered Tara a kind smile, then turned to Jax. "Jury's here," she told him. "Wants to talk to you when you're ready." Jax nodded. Cherry left the room, closing the door behind her.

"What jury?" Tara asked.

"My Uncle Jury," Jax explained. "My old man met him in 'Nam. I've known him all my life. He's the club president here. I was on my way to a meeting with him when I got sidetracked." Tara looked down at the old quilt on the bed, studying its pattern. She just couldn't fathom how it was possible that she and Jax had wound up at the same small-town gas station, hundreds of miles from home, at the exact same time. There was no way it was a coincidence. Tara didn't believe in God, but she definitely believed in something. Fate, maybe? Whatever it was, it had put Jax in her path when she needed him most. Without his interference, she'd most likely be dead by now. Tears began trickling down her face once more. Jax brushed them away with his hands.

Tara looked up at him, studying his face as he drew closer. He kissed her softly, not sure how she'd react, not wanting to hurt her. He tasted as delicious as Tara remembered. She grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him closer, kissing him harder. Jax gently ran his hands down Tara's sides, then up the inside of her shirt. Tara tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants, working them further down around his waist. Jax stopped, pulling away.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

"Make love to me, Jax," Tara answered. He carefully laid her down on the bed, pulling her shirt up over her head. God, she was beautiful. Even more so than he remembered. He fought the urge to ravage her- to rip off her panties and thrust himself inside her, to pull her hair and bite her succulent lips while he fucked her. What she needed was love- to be treated with tenderness after the brutality she'd just suffered at the hands of a man she'd once trusted. She needed to feel safe. And Jax wanted nothing more than to be the person that made her feel that way.

He unfastened her bra, slowly pulling it down from her shoulders and tossing it to the floor. He licked and sucked on her nipples, feeling goosebumps come to life on her skin. He kissed down her torso, to her hips. He tugged at the ill-fitting yoga pants she was wearing, kissing her inner thigh and calf as he pulled them off along with her panties.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, offering Tara one last out before they were past the point of no return.

"Don't stop," she breathed. Jax kissed her trembling stomach, then worked his way lower, until his tongue was inside of her. He lost himself in her salty sweetness as she moaned, her voice thick with desire. Jax pleasured Tara until she was on the brink, then stopped, slowly kissing his way back up to her face. He gazed into her eyes as he slid himself inside her. He moved cautiously at first, not wanting to hurt her, wanting to feel every part of her. She felt better than he remembered. Tara held Jax's face between her hands, smiling as he moved against her.

Jax had dreamt of being with Tara so many times over the past ten years, he couldn't keep count. From the moment he laid eyes on her upon her return to Charming, he'd imagined fucking her a thousand different ways. But now, all he wanted was to make love to her- slow, sweet love.

"I've missed you," Tara whispered, tracing Jax's lips with her tongue. She loved the way he fit inside her- like the perfect puzzle piece she'd been missing for so long. She dug her nails into his back and gasped as she climaxed, her legs trembling. "Oh God," she sighed.

Turned on by Tara's enthusiasm, Jax began to move his hips faster, pushing deeper inside of her. He let out a low, primal growl as he came, unable to remember the last time anything had made him feel so good. For the first time in years, he felt alive. He collapsed onto Tara, careful not to put too much pressure on her. She was still so delicate. And to be honest, so was he. As the heat of passion dissipated, he became acutely aware of how badly his ribs were hurting him. He took in a sharp breath. Tara's brow furrowed.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Jax nodded, repositioning himself so that he was lying beside Tara on the way-too-small mattress. He wrapped his arm around her as she burrowed into his side, her head on his chest. She listened to the sound of his heartbeat as she tried to swallow the words on her lips, the ones she knew she couldn't say. Not yet.

"Tara?" Jax said, his voice heavy.

"Mmmhmm?"

"I love you." The words were so simple, yet so complicated at the same time. And he'd taken them right out of her mouth. She looked up at him. The emotion in his eyes was unreadable. She smiled.

"I love you too," she promised.

Jax waited until Tara's breathing slowed, signaling that she was asleep again, before slipping out of bed. He took off the borrowed sweatpants he was wearing and changed into his freshly washed clothes, pulling on his kutte once he was dressed. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to face Jury, Clay, and the others before tiptoeing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

"There he is," Clay announced as Jax entered the clubhouse common room. He was sitting at the bar with Jury, a beer in his hand and a cigar in his mouth. To look at him, you'd never guess he'd just disposed of the body of a federal agent. Typical Clay. He stood up from his barstool and made his way to Jax, embracing him. "You okay, son?" he asked.

"I'm good," Jax insisted. "Thank you for your help today."

"Yeah well…shit happens, right?"

"Yes it does," Jax agreed.

"Jacksoooon!" called a familiar voice from behind Clay.

"Uncle Jury!" Jax smiled.

"Clay tells me you had a bit of a time gettin' up here," Jury said. Jax nodded.

"That's an understatement," he chuckled.

"Well I'm glad you and your old lady are whole." Jax opened his mouth to correct Jury, then stopped. Tara wasn't his old lady. Or was she? He wasn't exactly sure. He and Tara would have to sort that out later. "Clay also tells me the Sons are looking to expand into Indian Hills."

"Shit," Jax muttered. He still wasn't entirely sold on the idea of patching over the Devil's Tribe, but what he was sure of was that he wanted to be the one to talk to Jury about it, to feel him out. Clay's heavy handed "suggestions" usually came with threats and ultimatums. That wasn't the way Jax wanted this to go down. He had too much respect for Jury to bully him into patching over the club he'd built from nothing if it wasn't what he wanted.

"Already voted," Clay informed Jax, interrupting. "While you were, uh…recuperating."

"You did?" Jax asked, turning to Jury. The old man nodded in defeat.

"Wasn't unanimous by a long shot, but it passed," Jury said.

"Yeah it did," Clay added, sounding much more enthusiastic than Jury did. Clay returned to his seat at the bar.

"Sorry, man," Jax confided quietly in Jury, placing an apologetic hand on his shoulder.

"Jax?" He turned around too quickly at the sound of Tara's voice, instantly regretting it. He winced in pain. Tara hurried to his side.

"You alright?" she asked. He nodded, letting out a deep, pained breath. Moving slowly so as not to cause himself anymore pain, he put his arm around her. She was still dressed in Cherry's pajamas, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail.

"Uncle Jury, I'd like you to meet Tara Knowles," Jax said.

"Nice to meet you," she said softly.

"You too, young lady," Jury replied, shaking her hand. "Hope the accommodations are to your liking."

"They're great," she lied. "Thank you so much."

"Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" Cherry asked Tara from behind the bar.

"No thanks," Tara said, smiling politely. Cherry smiled, then turned her attention back to the prospect, a goofy kid they called Half-Sack for reasons Tara probably didn't want to know. Jax rubbed Tara's back comfortingly as she took in her surroundings. Though the décor was different, the room was much like the SAMCRO clubhouse- leather clad bikers, trashy groupies in slutty outfits. These groupies seemed to be a little more done up than the ones that hung around Charming, though. As Tara watched them interact with the club members, she came to a realization.

"Jax, is this a brothel?" she whispered, hoping no one else would hear. Jax laughed.

"I'm sorry, babe."

"Oh. My. God," Tara breathed. Jax kissed her on the forehead, still chuckling, and pulled her into a gentle hug. Tara let out a sigh of relief, trying to focus only on the man she loved and not the company they were in. She jumped when the front doors of the clubhouse burst open.

"Mayans!" was all Juice Ortiz managed to get out before bullets began shattering windows and flying through the open doors. Jax shielded Tara, shoving her behind the bar with Cherry, who was crouched low to the ground, almost in a fetal position.

"Stay here," he warned, grabbing his gun out of his waistband. "Half-Sack, you stay with them!" he yelled over the hail of gunfire, which was getting louder by the second as SAMCRO and the Devil's Tribe began shooting back. The prospect nodded, jumping behind the bar and standing over the two women protectively.

Jax ran outside, firing wildly. There were so many members of the rival motorcycle club surrounding the building, he was bound to hit someone. He felt a hand on his shoulder as someone grabbed his kutte and pulled him behind a parked car.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Opie yelled. "Trying to get yourself killed?" From behind the shelter of the car, the two of them began firing at the Mayans, picking them off one by one. Clay and Jury were guarding the entrance to the clubhouse, shooting from behind the iron double doors. Bobby, Tig and Happy were the only other SAMCRO members Jax could see from where he was. But he knew there were more. Between the two clubs that were set to become one that evening, they had the Mayans vastly outnumbered.

Their rivals seemed to know it, too. The Mayans that were still standing began retreating. Jax heard a shout from behind him, and turned to see Jury on the ground, bleeding profusely from his arm. Clay and the rest of the club took off after Marcus Alvarez, the Mayan president, who'd gotten back on his bike and was trying to get away.

"Ope, get Jury inside!" Jax instructed. "Hurry! I'll cover you!" Jax was so focused on watching his best friend's back as he pulled Jury inside the building, he didn't notice the Mayan prospect that had sneaked up behind him until he had a gun to the back of his head. Jax dropped his gun, raising his hands in defeat.

"You don't want to do this, bro," he warned. "Do you know who I am?"

"Sure, ese," the kid said. "You're the SAMCRO VP. I kill you, pretty sure they'll patch me in tonight. What do you think?" Jax's heart stopped when a gunshot nearly blew out his ear drum. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't hit. He grabbed the back of his head, which felt to be intact, then turned to find the Mayan prospect dead on the ground, Tara standing behind him with a shotgun in her hands.

"Holy shit!" Jax panted, grabbing Tara by the arm and pulling her down behind the car with him. He was pretty sure the gunfight was over, as the only Mayans still in the vicinity were dead ones, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"Found it under the counter," she explained, dropping the gun on the ground, her hands shaking.

"I told you to stay inside," Jax lamented. "You could have been killed!"

"Yeah, and you almost were," Tara shot back. "This goes both ways, Jax. You're not the only one that can save the person they love, you know." Jax stared at her, angry and grateful and proud and turned on as hell, all at the same time.

"Okay," he agreed, smiling slightly.

"So now what?" Tara asked.

"We go home," Jax said.

"Together?" she inquired, noticing that someone had delivered Jax's bike to the parking lot. She hoped he wasn't going to make her ride all the way back to Charming alone in the van with Piney.

"Together," he assured her. "Always."