Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

A/N: This is the second of two prequels covering events that were mentioned, but not fully explored in Charming's Worst Kept Secret and All Roads Lead to Charming.

Please remember that your reviews motivate me and keep me writing, so if you read, please review. Enjoy!

It was the first of several telephone calls that she would receive or make during the course of the evening that would change her life from this day going forward.

About to sink a shot that would net her another twenty bucks, the young woman in ripped jeans and t-shirt straightened up as she felt her pre-pay vibrating in her back pocket.

"Hey, hey, no timeouts for phone calls." The slightly pissed off hang-around named Bill demanded. Bill was being fleeced by some damn teenager and he needed to make some of his money back or not be able to show his face at the SAMCRO Clubhouse ever again.

Waving him off as she noticed the name flashing on her caller i.d., she flipped her phone open.

"Is this Jolene?" The voice on the other end of the line slurred, saying her name like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Who's this?" Jolene Morrow answered with a question, annoyed and a little confused as to why some bitch was apparently drunk dialing her using Jax's phone.

"This is Amber," The girl replied, pronouncing her name 'Am-bah'. "And I'm calling you to let you know that I'm gonna fuck your boyfriend tonight."

If Donna were in the room, she'd want to take a picture because it was a rare occasion when Jolene was struck what could only be termed as speechless. As Jolene stood by the pool table, cue still in one hand while she held the phone up to her ear with the other, the situation was slowly starting to piece itself together. Obviously, Jax had picked up some dirty, drunk skank in some dive bar, who for some reason thought she was his girlfriend.

Don't I wish, honey, Jolene thought bitterly as Amber's screechy banshee-like voice intruded. With loud Country music blaring in the background, the drunk skank ran down a laundry list of nasty things she planned on doing to and with Jax once she got him home. Apparently, Amber was very confident that her dick-sucking skills were enough to make Jax forget all about the hometown girl he can't be with tonight.

Hometown girl? Fuck you, Tara for still haunting the mentally-challenged love of my life!

"Ambah," Jolene started mockingly. "You have no idea how wrong a number this is." She was about to hang up when Amber started up again.

Sick and tired of hearing the drunk, but extremely sexy blond biker carry on and on about Jolene, Amber had grabbed Jax's phone when he wasn't looking. Not only was this "Jolene" on his speed dial, but aside from some other chick named "Gemma," he hadn't called any other woman but her in the last seven days.

"Unless you're not the one he calls his 'little darlin',' you're the one who's wrong, sweetheart. He's so totally hot, but a bit of a downer 'cause all he can do is talk about you. I don't know what you did to him, but you're a heartless bitch," Amber exclaimed. "Don't worry, though. Come morning, he won't care who the fuck you are anymore and I—" Without warning, the call ended abruptly.

Back to being at a loss for words, Jolene was left standing looking at her pre-pay like she just realized she had been talking into a shoe instead of a phone.

"What the fuck?" Jolene muttered under her breath as she ran her hand over her dark hair that was pulled back into a ponytail.

"Hey, come on, sweetheart!" Jolene's thoughts were interrupted by the hang-around she was currently hustling. "You in or you out?"

Stuffing the phone back into her pocket as she tried to push Jax's drunken antics out of her mind, Jolene grinned at her mark.

"Why are you so eager to lose your money? You a trust fund baby?" Without taking her eyes off of Bill, Jolene sunk her two remaining balls in one shot. Quickly pocketing the twenty, Jolene offered, "Double or nothing?"

"I've forked over at least a hundred bucks. You have enough money to cover that bet?" Bill asked, now truly annoyed.

"Doesn't matter 'cause I'm not gonna lose." Jolene boasted arrogantly, a perfect imitation of her father's smirk plastered on her face.

Looking at the young woman with the wide, pale green eyes, the hang-around tossed his pool cue onto the table. As much as he wanted to teach the little brat a lesson, he needed gas money for the rest of the week until he got paid on Saturday.

"Nah," Bill smirked. "Go buy yourself some Barbies or a dress. Pretend like you're a girl or something."

Jolene chuckled to herself. What a douche bag. Asshole can't even count because he had forked over way more than just a hundred bucks. More like $180, but who's counting?

It was now 8:30 on a Thursday night and, with no one willing to lose to a sixteen year girl at pool, Jolene was back to being bored. It was unusually quiet in the Clubhouse, with the majority of the Club out on several protection runs for Unser Trucking, the farthest, and the one her father had taken the lead on, being to San Diego. As a result, with the exception of Lowell, who was pulling a late shift in order to have a car ready for pick up Friday morning, the Clubhouse was dead.

With her BFF Donna holed up with Opie for the weekend, Jolene had been bored out of her mind at home, roaming around the large empty house all by herself. Determined to occupy her time doing something other than thinking about Jax, Jolene had jumped into her Mustang and drove down to the T-M lot, hoping she'd be able to coax her Uncle Elvis into baking her some chocolate chip cookies.

It was only after she strolled into the Clubhouse and saw just a few hang-arounds and a couple of croweaters that she realized that Bobby had probably already hit the road. The Elvis-impersonating biker had a weekend gig in Tahoe that was paying him big bucks. Not finding him in his dorm, Jolene decided that she might as well stick around and see if she could skin a couple of the new hang-arounds out of some pocket money. Technically, her father would probably shit a brick if he knew she was at the Clubhouse on a school night, no less, without any patched members around. This was a fact Jolene conveniently forgot as she quickly fleeced the hang-around out of his first twenty.

Giving up on the lame ass crowd taking up precious space at the Clubhouse, Jolene was about to leave when she heard someone call her name. Stepping back inside, Jolene saw the new Prospect standing behind the bar, holding a phone in his hand.

"Have you seen Bobby?" The young man asked.

Jolene sauntered towards the bar. "No, he wasn't in his dorm. I think he already left for Tahoe."

"Shit, I've got some guy on the phone who wants to talk to him, like now. He says it's about Jax and that it's urgent."

Faster than a bolt of lightning, Jolene grabbed the phone out of the Prospect's hand. Hearing the words "Jax" and "urgent" in the same sentence, Jolene's first thought was, Fuck! Ambah probably has a boyfriend.

It was no secret that Jax had taken Tara leaving Charming quite hard, but now, more than a year later, he seemed to toggle between being a depressed and lovesick idiot and a tough outlaw biker who had recently done short time in Chino for gun possession.

Since his parole and return to Charming, Jolene had tried to spend as much time with him as possible and, for a while, it seemed like he had been getting his shit together. But just when Jolene started to get the sense that a shift in his feelings for her was about to take place, Jax went off the rails and started acting like, well, an outlaw biker on parole.

After being denied in prison all the creature comforts a typical biker had grown accustomed to as a free man and a patch, Jax was now on a quest to make up for lost time. Six months worth of weed, whiskey, and women seemed to be on the menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner. While Jax was apparently a legend in the making among the croweaters and sweetbutts from Charming to Tacoma to Reno, Jolene was afraid that his reputation with his brothers was starting to suffer. The last thing Jax needed was to end up in some kind of trouble that would push him even farther up on his President's shit list.

Not knowing who she was dealing with, Jolene tried to sound as mature and personable as possible as she addressed the person on the other end of the line.

"Hello. Bobby isn't available right now, but I'm Jax's stepsister." She cringed, resenting the role the much-hated title had relegated her to. "What seems to be the problem?"

Hearing the familiar background noise of loud Country music, laughter, and what appeared to be a loud argument, Jolene quickly recognized it as sounds coming from the same bar Amber had called her from not half an hour ago. What was worse was the fact that she also recognized one of the raised voices drunkenly arguing. The voice on the phone, with a distinct East Texas twang, quickly confirmed her worst suspicions.

"Yeah, well, little lady, this is Buck callin' and you need to get Bobby Elvis down to Uncle Buck's Bar in Lodi as quick as you can. Me and Bobby, we go a ways back and I have a lot of respect for the Sons, but one of his brothers is down here causing a ruckus and if I can't get him to get, I'm gonna have to call the Sanwa Sheriff."

Oh shit!

Jolene moistened her suddenly dry lips. "What exactly has he done?"

"Well, honey, bikers aren't our usual clientele, but he seemed like a nice enough fellow, paid for his drinks, and kept to hisself. He's a bit of a pretty boy, though and started dragging attention away from a few of our regulars, which didn't sit well, but still, he wasn't bothering nobody, so I let him be." Buck explained. "I'm usually pretty good about cutting patrons off when they've had enough, but he got away from me. I gather it's from all the drinks the females kept sending his way and right now this here boy is stinking drunk. He ain't in no condition to get on his bike and I can lose my license if I let him. He sticks around much longer, though, I can't guarantee his safety 'cause it's either let him go or let some of our regular good ol' boys get their hands on him. He did mention just getting out of Chino and I want to avoid calling the cops on him, but someone needs to pick this young buck up and soon."

The last thing Jax needed was to get picked up for public intoxication or fighting. Even worse was the fear of losing him to the road. It would kill Gemma to lose her remaining son like she had his father.

It would kill me, too.

"Don't worry Mister, uh—"

"Buck, little lady. Just call me Buck."

"Buck, thank you for calling. I'll be right there, but please, do whatever you can to keep him from leaving." Quickly saying goodbye, Jolene made a run for the door. Stopping, she called out to the Prospect. "I'll be back soon. Please don't tell anybody where I went."

Running across the lot and into the darkened garage office, Jolene grabbed a set of keys off a peg on the wall over Gemma's desk. Instead of her Mustang, Jolene was going to take the flatbed truck with the intention of bringing both Jax and his bike back to Charming whole, with everyone being none the wiser.

Apparently, no one ever mentioned to Jolene that the path to Hell was paved with good intentions.

With her lead foot on the gas, Jolene sped down the I-22 heading to Lodi. Hearing a knocking sound coming from the engine, she knew from experience that usually signaled that she was way over the speed limit. Looking at the speedometer and seeing she was actually pushing 90, Jolene eased her foot off the gas pedal.

I can't help Jax if I'm splattered all over the highway.

Jolene nervously tapped the steering wheel with her fingers as she headed towards the bar. She was determined to get to Jax before the police did and get him cleaned up and sober before his brothers returned to Charming. Pulling his ass out of the fire had become a habit, but as much as Jolene knew she loved Jax, she wasn't sure how much longer she could continue enabling him. Instead of cleaning up his act after she took care of the mess and picked up the pieces, Jax would re-focus his energies on the Club for a while, only to fall off the pussywagon and roll right into a ditch.

Jolene knew she would end up ripping into Jax again by calling him out on his bullshit, trying to wake him up to the fact that wearing the Reaper was a privilege he had to earn everyday. While Jolene was convinced that Tara Knowles was no longer the issue, she had been unsuccessful so far in getting him to open up. Every time she came close, he would clam up and do something stupid like getting wasted in some strange bar in another town.

Taking the exit leading to the downtown section of Lodi, Jolene headed towards the ten-block strip that housed Lodi's bars and restaurants. Lodi was a bustling town. At least three times the size of Charming, it was lively and modern when compared to the sleepy little town that was her home.

Turning onto the street known as Restaurant Row, Jolene headed straight for Uncle Buck's Bar and Brewery. The country-themed bar was a popular hangout for locals, as well as residents of the surrounding areas, like Modesto and San Leandro. With all types of dead animal heads decorating the walls, a large mechanical bull, and bucket-sized beers brewed directly on the premises, as well as a dance floor large enough for country line dancing, Uncle Buck's was packed wall-to-wall every Thursday through Sunday night. But, as Buck had mentioned to Jolene over the telephone, it didn't exactly cater to bikers. With most of its patrons earning a living driving rigs or at the oil refinery in Martinez, Jolene could very well understand how the regulars might not take a shine to a drunken, pretty boy outlaw biker that was clearly out of his element.

Finally pulling into the bar's large parking lot, Jolene was relieved to note that there were no police cars in sight. Looking for a spot closer to the garishly lit building, which sported a large flashing neon sign with a Buck wearing a cowboy hat on its antlers, Jolene saw Jax's bike parked directly in front of the bar.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sitting on it.

Instead, a 300-lb. man wearing a trucker hat and cowboy boots was. Jolene's eyes became wide as saucers as she saw Jax storming over to the stupid man.

"Oh great, so this is where my daily dose of fucked-up-shit hopped off to! I've been looking for it all day!" Jolene spit out as she sped up. "Fuckin' moron, you NEVER sit on another man's bike!"

Jolene tried calling out to Jax through the open window of the truck, but her voice was carried away by the loud country western music blasting out of the bar. Jolene slammed on the brakes as the man suddenly jumped off Jax's bike. Without warning, the trucker pulled a handgun from the waistband of his jeans, sucker-punching Jax before smashing the butt of his gun against his head.

To this day, Jolene can't really remember what happened after that. All she could recall was the panic and the rage that washed over her. Witnesses would later relate that the story of David and Goliath played out before their very eyes, that is, if David had been a slip of a girl, maybe 90 pounds if she was soaking wet. Feeling her tongue go numb and looking like a miniature Amazon warrior, Jolene leapt out of the truck, pulling the steel bat that Piney kept under the seat in case a repo went bad, and started swinging like she was aiming for the bleachers.

The first blow to connect with the drunken mountain currently wailing on a fallen Jax hit him in the back of the head. Due to the waves of adrenaline and beer coursing through his enormous body, the blow had barely registered as an annoyance. Turning his attention away from Jax, the redneck bully was glaring right over her head, not realizing that his attacker was a good foot-and-a-half shorter. Using his inebriated confusion against him, Jolene swung again, the bat cracking against the wrist of the hand that held the gun, and knocked it to the ground. Faster than her opponent, Jolene kicked the gun under a car and blindly swung the bat one last time. Her eyes widened as the metal bat connected with the trucker's red, bloated face. The bigger they are, the harder they may fall, but as far as Jolene was concerned, she was watching the bully fall in slow motion. Slamming onto the black top of the parking lot ass first, it almost seemed like he bounced once, then twice before ending up splayed on his back.

After the red haze cleared, Jolene found herself handcuffed and sitting in the back of a police car. Beside her was a similarly handcuffed Jax, bloodied and passed out cold. As the police car pulled out of the lot and headed for the San Joaquin Sheriff's Department, one thought reverberated in Jolene's head.

What the fuck just happened?

Peeling tires, Gemma's Cadillac practically roared into the parking lot of the San Joaquin Police Station and came to a screeching halt.

"Gemma, sweetie, you have to chill out." Luann advised as she removed her seat belt. "You aren't going to help the situation by driving in here like a maniac. All you'll get is a ticket for your trouble."

"Right now, I'm too damned pissed to chill out." Gemma almost growled as she grabbed her designer handbag from the back seat and locked her car. "My son and stepdaughter are attacked by some redneck and they get hauled in? This is bullshit!"

As Gemma and Luann walked up the steps of the station house, Gemma's mind was running a mile a minute over the current situation.

Luann had called Gemma earlier that afternoon. It had been a hair-raising day on the set of Cara Cara and she needed to unwind. Her preferred method of unwinding was to jump on Big Otto's big dick, but since it was currently out of town and unavailable, Luann suggested Plan B: dinner and a movie. Putting on their best rags, the two friends had taken off to Stockton.

They were dining in their favorite Italian restaurant when Gemma finally remembered that she hadn't turned her phone back on after leaving the theater. Seeing the missed call, and not recognizing the number, Gemma almost dismissed checking it out any further. It was only when she checked her voice-mail and heard a tearful Jolene's message that she realized that it was probably too late to duck as the shit had already hit the fan.

Gemma had always known her stepdaughter to be a strong and capable young woman. However, hearing Jolene sound so young, vulnerable, and scared awoke the protective mother bear in Gemma. Not even bothering to cancel their order, Gemma got up and ran out of the restaurant with Luann hot on her heels.

Now, as she sat in a small waiting area for someone to tell her what the hell was going on, Gemma broke out into hot and cold sweats as it finally dawned on her that she would eventfully have to call her husband.

"Mrs. Morrow?"

Gemma looked up at the tall and handsome officer. "Yes, I'm Gemma Morrow."

"I'm Sheriff Graham," He extended his hand, which both women shook. "Please follow me." The Sheriff led Gemma and Luann to a small room with a metal table and a couple of dilapidated chairs and invited both women to sit down.

Flipping through a file he had placed on the table before him, Gemma saw the grim-faced mug shot of her stepdaughter. What she had hoped was a bad dream suddenly became a living nightmare as Gemma's heart sank in her chest.

"Can you please tell me what happened?" Gemma implored.

The Sheriff quickly outlined the events of the evening and the more he spoke the worse Gemma felt. Clay was going to go off the rails and there was really nothing she could do to protect Jax.

"Right now, your son is sleeping it off in the drunk tank. We had a doctor look him over and, aside from a couple of bruises, he seems to be fine. He'll have the mother of all hangovers in the morning, but according to eyewitnesses, it could have been much worse. You can pick him up anytime after 12:00 tomorrow. There are no charges being filed against him." Sheriff Graham advised.

Gemma let out a sigh of relief. "And my stepdaughter Jolene? When can I take her home?"

"I'm afraid that matter is a little more complicated."

Gemma's head shot straight up. "What the hell does that mean?" She exclaimed as Luann wrapped an arm around her friend.

"It means that your daughter is under arrest, with charges pending. The U.S. Attorney's office is waiting for word on the condition of the man she attacked with a bat, Mitchell Conroy. Because she is a minor, the procedure for dealing with this matter is completely different."

Since Gemma seemed to lose the power of speech, Luann picked up the ball. "Can you please explain?"

"Had Jolene been an adult, the protocol would have been the standard procedure. She would have been arraigned, charges filed, and bail set. But because she is a minor, Jolene cannot be processed through our system. Depending on Mr. Conroy's condition and whether or not she will be charged as an adult, Jolene could be processed through the family court system. Right now, there's really nothing you can do for her." Sheriff Graham explained.

"Can I at least see her?" Gemma asked, realizing that she needed to pull her shit together and deal with the situation from an outside perspective.

"Absolutely, but you should know that she is being transferred to the Lodi Juvenile Detention Center in the morning until she is formally charged. Unfortunately, after she's transferred, Jolene will not be allowed visitors except for counsel."

Looking for the bright side, Gemma reasoned that being charged as a minor had to be better than not. "What happens if she's processed through family court?"

"She would stay at the Detention Center until such time as she can get a court date before the San Joaquin Family Court. The presiding judge will look at the facts of the case and Jolene's background, including prior criminal activities and school records, and eventually the judge would rule on the case and render his judgment."

"How long does the whole process usually take?" Gemma demanded.

Sheriff Graham flipped through the file. "Jolene's record is clean and if Mr. Conroy's injuries are not serious, the whole process can move pretty fast, one, two months tops."

Gemma put a manicured hand on her forehead. "Two months before she can come home?"

"Mrs. Morrow, the charges are quite serious. Right now, she's looking at aggravated assault and menacing, but depending on how the U.S. Attorney wants to play this, charges could range from attempted manslaughter to attempted murder. She used a steel bat as a weapon."

"My God," Luann declared angrily. "The so-called victim is a man three times her weight and twice her size who was attacking her brother. What was she supposed to do, beat on him with her little fists?"

"She could have called 9-1-1." Sheriff Graham advised.

Gemma was shaking her head. "Jolene is a good kid and would do anything to protect those she loves. I was told the man had a gun and had she not taken a bat to his head, I could be having a very different conversation with you right now. Is he going to be charged?"

"Mrs. Morrow, I am only here to brief you on the facts as they stand now. As an officer of the law, I cannot speculate on who will be charged with what and what the outcome will be."

"You've been on the force a while?" Gemma questioned.

Sheriff Graham nodded. "Fifteen years."

"Then speak to me from experience, not speculation. In your experience, have you ever dealt with something like this before?"

"Many times."

"Okay, in your experience, what has been the worst case scenario?"

"Two to three years in Juvie." Seeing both women sag emotionally, Sheriff Graham quickly continued. "However, a lack of any previous run-ins with the law and a spotless academic record could mean a reduced sentence, even probation. From experience, I will tell you that the Detention Center has been overcrowded for sometime now. Your daughter may catch a break. At the time of her booking she will be assigned a case worker and probation officer. Using her clean record, counsel may be able to convince the P.O. to release her into your care until the hearing. It's not much in the way of hope, but that's all the hope I can give you."

Gemma sunk back in her chair. Getting herself under control, she stood up. "I'd like to see my daughter now."

If his hands were pain free, Clay would beat the living shit out of Jackson Teller. As it was, it had taken him eight hours to return from the road, having to make repeated stops along the way to give his hands a rest.

Standing in the Morrow's living room, Clay paced back and forth as he cut loose on his 20 year old stepson.

"How could you be so stupid, so goddamn selfish?" Clay raged. "Do you realize the danger you put not only my daughter in, but yourself, too? You decide to do some solo barhopping in Calaveras territory? Have you lost your fuckin' mind?"

Sitting on the leather couch with his arm wrapped around his goddaughter, Bobby watched as his brother righteously ripped a new hole in the ass of the young man that he loved like a son.

Bobby had managed to put on one show at the Beacon Resort Restaurant and Lounge in Tahoe. He had been scheduled for six more shows that weekend, but once Tig called to advise him of Jolene's current troubles, Bobby had hightailed it back to Charming. He wanted to be there to give his support to Kit and hopefully prevent Jax's murder.

This has been a long time coming, Bobby thought grimly.

Jax's apparent suicide bid had finally run its course, with his stepsister getting caught in his downward spiral.

Jax stood in his stepfather's home and took every word the older man said without complaint. He knew he had royally fucked up. The young biker was certainly worse for wear. He was still wearing the same clothes from last night, his hair uncombed and matted against his head, and rough stubble growing around his goatee. Reeking of alcohol, Jax looked less like a pretty boy outlaw biker and more like homeless person.

After having spent the night in lockup, it was a major miracle that Jolene was sitting on the couch in her own home. Instead, she could have been cooling her heels at the state-run juvenile detention center in Lodi with a bunch of rough and hardened delinquents.

Upon arrival at the Center, Jolene had been assigned a social worker, Allison Dunnegan and a probation officer, Debra McAllister, to oversee her case. Dunnegan reviewed the paperwork that had accompanied Jolene and, had it not been for Scott Rosen, McAllister might have succeeded in convincing the social worker to admit her. Getting a call in the middle of the night from Clay, Rosen had managed to secure a copy of Jolene's school records, as well as a letter from her guidance counselor painting a clearer picture of the girl in the mug shot as a straight-A student, who was considering a career in education, and recommending leniency.

Rosen went on to point out that the incident had occurred in response to an unprovoked attack on a close family member. His gambit to convince Dunnegan that Jolene would not be a danger to anyone had paid off, in spite of McAllister's attempt to bring Jax's prison record into account. Since Juvie was overcrowded with far worse offenders, the vast majority of which were not there for the first time, the social worker released Jolene into the custody of her stepmother.

Pulling Gemma aside, Rosen noted that, in light of McAllister's attempts to muddy the facts with Jax's involvement, it had been a good thing that Clay had not made it to Lodi in time. He said that it was possible that the sight of the hardcore biker with the Reaper on his back might have derailed Jolene's release. Going forward, Rosen recommended that only immediate family attend hearings regarding Jolene's case and that cuts be left at home. He was going to start preparing for the upcoming hearing, which should be scheduled within the next two weeks. Clay was grateful to his counsel because getting Jolene released was probably the only reason that Jax wasn't dead and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere, thus saving his marriage.

Jolene tried to interject a word of defense for her stepbrother, but that only seemed to fuel Clay's anger. That his little girl would defend the son of a bitch at the center of all her problems pissed him off to no end. Clay wished that the young man would at least fight back or be a coward and hide behind his stepsister.

Instead, Jax absorbed Clay's anger and took his lumps like a man and, if he wasn't so damn pissed, Clay might be a little impressed. Jax had hoped his stepfather would throw a couple of well aimed punches at him. He could deal with physical pain way better than the emotional shit he was suffering through now. Jax couldn't deal with the guilt because guilt only made him want to take action and make things better and he knew he couldn't do shit for Jolene.

"So what the hell do you have to say for yourself?" Clay demanded.

Jax stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Nothing, except that you're absolutely right. This is my fault entirely."

Although it hurt Jolene that her father was going ape-shit on Jax, she couldn't help but be proud of the man he was for standing up to Clay and taking the blame. Maybe this was the wake up call Jax needed and, if that were the case, then everything she was destined to go through would be worth it in the end. Still, she couldn't let him take the fall alone.

Breaking free of her Uncle Elvis's embrace, Jolene stood up and walked over to face her father.

"Dad, enough, please." Jolene implored.

Looking down at his daughter, Clay angrily replied, "You can either sit down or take your ass upstairs because this does not concern you."

"Of course it does! I was there."

Clay pointed a finger at her. "And you shouldn't have been."

"Exactly."

Nonplussed, Clay stared at his daughter. "What?"

Jolene sighed and then wrapped her arms around her father's waist. Looking up at his steely blue-eyes, she moistened her lips. "Dad, I shouldn't have been there. If I hadn't been at the Clubhouse, I wouldn't have gotten the call and I wouldn't have shown up in Lodi. To blame Jax completely is totally unfair."

Gemma, who had been thinking the same thing, watched in silence, hoping that Jolene would somehow pull her husband back from the ledge.

"Jo, your father's right. You need to stay out of this." Jax replied stoically.

Turning her head, Jolene addressed Jax. "I'm not talking to you." Bringing her attention back to her father, Jolene continued, trying to be the voice of reason. "The truth is, even if I hadn't been there, if the bar owner had called me at home, where I should have been in the first place, I still would have gone. Jax needed me and SAMCRO never abandons family. That's what you taught me."

Bobby smiled as he watched his goddaughter come to the defense of the young man he knew she loved more than just as her stepbrother. She was clearly having an effect on her stubborn as a mule outlaw father.

Clay ran a hand through his graying hair. He loved his daughter dearly, but right now he was enraged at her for making several valid points. By doing so, she had tied his hands when all he really wanted to do was to beat his stepson senseless. Or worse.

"Please, Daddy. Just think about it before doing anything hasty." Jolene practically begged.

Shaking his head, Clay pressed a kiss on her head. "All right, baby girl. I'll think about what you've said, but I'm not promising shit."

Gemma sighed in relief, but it was a little too soon.

Clay turned to his stepson. "Jolene's bought you a little time. Go to the Clubhouse and get cleaned up." Heading towards his man cave, Clay called over his shoulder, "And until further notice, I don't want to see your ass around here or anywhere near my daughter."

Lying in her bed, Jolene was experiencing a number of overwhelming emotions. It was hard to believe that only 24 hours had passed since the incident in Lodi and her subsequent arrest. It was so good to be home and in her own bed. Even with her future uncertain, Jolene knew for sure she was going to sleep good and hard tonight.

Staring up at the ceiling, Jolene contemplated her situation. She was in no way, shape or form perfect and she had managed to get herself into some scrapes before, but never anything of this magnitude. Any trouble Jolene ever got into, whether at school, home, or the T-M lot, she most likely brought upon herself, usually stemming from her need to step up for the underdog or an innocent.

What happened last night was basically business as usual for me.

But Lodi wasn't Charming. Had she practiced batting on some drunk taking cheap shots at Jax here at home, she wouldn't be looking at two to three years in lockup. Her father would have pressured Unser and she would have been free within hours. However, realizing that she was indeed a hot head like her father and that the real world wasn't Charming, Jolene reconciled herself to whatever destiny had in store for her. If this was a lesson she needed to learn, better she learn it now than when she got older.

Rosen had called right before dinner to inform Clay that, thankfully, the man Jolene had taken down with the bat had left the hospital in the morning after several MRIs confirmed no permanent damage. Aside from a broken nose, busted cheek, and missing teeth, the bully would get to live to bully again. This meant family court would decide her fate, which was great considering that she could have been charged as an adult, with the possibility of doing a lot more time.

Jolene was so engrossed in her musings that it took her a moment to realize that someone was knocking on her door.

Jolene shot straight up in her bed, however, when she identified the sound as not coming from her door, but from her window. Looking over to the window seat, she gave a little yelp as she saw a shadowy figure literally sitting outside her window.

Jolene threw back the covers and reached under her bed for her trusty bat. As she advanced to the window, she gave a sigh of relief as she finally identified the dickhead that had scared the shit out of her. Dropping the bat back under the bed, Jolene flew to the window and opened it wide to reveal her stepbrother.

"Oh my God, Jax! Are you crazy? Get your ass in here." Jolene whispered loudly.

Pulling himself into the room, Jax landed quite hard on the window seat and rolled onto the floor. As the loud thump resounded throughout the bedroom, Jolene's eyes doubled in size.

"Goddamnit!" Jax complained, his knee throbbing.

Quickly slapping a hand over his mouth, Jolene waited. Her heart literally pumping in her throat, she hoped beyond hope that neither of her parents had heard the noise. After thirty seconds had passed and her dad had not come barreling through her door with his gun, Jolene figured they were okay. Removing her hand, Jolene plopped down on the floor beside the man that she had literally gone to bat for.

Now that Jax had had a chance to clean up, shave and change his clothes, he looked a hell of a lot better than how he had last night.

Lying on his back, Jax looked up at his stepsister. Her ebony hair was loose and flowing down the thick and fussy long-sleeved nightgown that she wore to protect her from the cold that she couldn't take. Reaching up to tuck a wayward curl out of her eyes, Jax suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of shame after all of the trouble he had brought to her door. If anyone had told him at the start of his drunkfest at Uncle Buck's that both of their lives would end up in the toilet, he would never had rolled into Lodi last night, never mind into that particular bar.

Jolene was just so glad to see him. During the big blowout earlier that day, her father had issued what practically amounted to a restraining order, literally barring Jax from the house and from seeing her. If her father even caught a whiff of Jax in her room, he would probably spit up a lung he'd be so pissed.

Seeing Jolene shivering, despite the thickness of her nightgown, Jax stood up and closed the window. Grabbing the comforter from her bed, he wrapped it around her. To Jolene's utter shock, Jax picked her up and carried her over to the bed, where he sat with his back against the headboard, his arms wrapped around her. The room was silent for a long time. Finally, Jax spoke.

"I am so, so sorry, Jo."

Hearing the pain and regret in Jax's voice caused a lump to form in Jolene's throat.

Finally managing to speak, she replied, "It wasn't your fault, Jax."

"Really? Then whose fault was it?" Jolene could hear the anger and disgust in his voice.

Jolene tried her best to give comfort to the young man that she loved so much. "Everyone screws up. Nobody's perfect. Not you and certainly not me."

"But you shouldn't be the one that has to pay for my stupidity."

"And maybe I won't." Jolene sighed. "I've never been arrested before and Dad's lawyer thinks he may be able to get me a reduced sentence, if it even comes to that."

"You wouldn't be in this position at all if it wasn't for me."

Jolene decided that now was as good a time as any to have her talk with Jax. "Okay. You're right. Maybe I wouldn't be in this mess." Jax winced slightly at her words, but she continued. "I know that you've lost a lot, Jax, like Tommy and your dad. Some things you will always miss, always mourn, but other things," Jolene said gritting her teeth. "Aren't worth missing. They aren't worth shit. And as long as you continue to wallow in that crap, you're never going to let yourself be truly happy."

And you won't ever recognize that the best old lady in the world for you has been right in your face all along.

Jolene laid her head on Jax's shoulder, tilting it so she could look at his face. "Whatever happens to me will probably suck. I already know that." Wanting him to look at her too, Jolene grabbed Jax by the chin hair and forced his eyes to meet hers in order to emphasize her next statement. "But I don't regret what happened. Not for one moment because I would do anything for you, Jax. Anything."

Jax looked down at the young earnest woman in his arms and for the first time, he really, really heard the meaning behind her words. Or, at least, he had finally let himself hear their true meaning. Jax knew that part of what Jolene had said had been in reference to Tara Knowles, but he had let Tara go a long time ago. He knew that what she was really trying to say without actually saying it was that she loved him and not in a sisterly way either.

Jax also knew that Jolene still harbored a crush on him, but what was tearing him up were the little glimpses here and there he'd been catching recently of the woman Jolene would grow up to be. The feelings that came with those glimpses had been confusing and frustrating him for weeks now. But the only thing Jax knew for sure was that, had Jolene been anyone else's stepsister, sneaking into her bedroom tonight would have been a very bad idea.

Jolene could suddenly see the change in him. It was almost as if in realizing the meaning of what she was trying to say had lifted a weight off of his shoulders.

Maybe what happened was a good thing. If it finally wakes him up from this self-destructive behavior, it's really worth it.

It was enough to embolden Jolene. Wrapping her arm around his midsection, she asked, "Will you stay with me for a while, until I fall asleep?"

Adjusting his position on the bed so that they could lie down, Jax smiled. "Sure, little darlin'." He pressed a kiss against her temple. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Hey, are you up for some company?"

Jolene's head shot up to spot Donna standing in her open doorway. Practically flinging her pen and notebook across the room, she leaped off the bed and ran to her best friend. Throwing their arms around each other, Donna said, "I leave you alone for one night and you have to go ape-shit on me, Lucy?"

Jolene pulled back from her sister from another mister and replied, "Well, Ethel, maybe if you hadn't decided to hang out with your boy Fred, I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess trying to rescue Ricky." Plopping herself back on her bed, Jolene sighed. "D, I really am in the shit this time."

Donna sat down on the bed and crossed her legs. "I don't doubt it. The whole town is talking about it."

"Really?" Jolene cringed.

"Really. In the last three days, my section at Nicky's has been packed with busybodies trying to dig up the dirt. I've made more tips in three days than I have in a two-week period."

"Are you telling me that a bump in your tips is what it takes for you to drop the dime on me?"

"Jo, you know I would never do that. Besides, it's not like I had a dime to drop." She replied cheekily. "According to Ope, there's a gag order in place and the 4-1-1 is hard to come by."

"Thanks a lot." Jolene flopped back on her bed dramatically.

"Well, I have done my best to dispel some of the worst rumors."

"Such as?"

"Such as you wailed on the guy so bad that you put him in a coma, for one."

"What the hell!" Jolene shot straight up.

"I almost witnessed a fist fight break out between two jerks because one heard coma and the other believed you actually killed the guy." Donna reported as Jolene shook her head in disbelief. "It gets better. One customer came in and said that her cousin's sister's boyfriend knows some waitress at the bar who said that—"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, I don't know if I want to hear anymore." Jolene covered her face with her hands.

Ignoring her friend's distress, Donna continued, "That the fight broke out because some guy was hitting on you, but Jax was too drunk to defend your honor, so you had to do it for yourself!" Donna laughed at the gaping hole where Jolene's mouth should be. "Ha! I thought that might cheer you up a little."

"What? You thought that some fat drunk supposedly trying to get it on with me would cheer me up?" Jolene declared, dumbfounded.

"No, stupid. That Jax was trying to defend your honor, so to speak. Speaking of the devil, is he still alive or has a date for the funeral been set yet?"

"He's still alive, but only because my dad's hands couldn't take the pounding he wanted to lay on him." Jolene went on to relate the highlights of the last couple of days—the fight, the arrest, and the big showdown between her father and Jax.

Donna put an arm around Jolene. "I'm so sorry this happened." She commiserated. "I really wish we had hung out together."

Donna and Opie had spent the entire weekend together at Donna's house. Her parents had taken off on their annual reunion weekend in Reno with several other couples they've known since high school. Donna hated getting together with Opie at the Clubhouse and, with the whole house to themselves, it was too good an opportunity to let it slip by.

And Jolene knew it too. "D, please. If you had cancelled on Ope, he would have busted a nut he's been holding it in for so long." Both of the girls laughed, but the seriousness of the situation was still too close to home.

"So, how are you holding up?" Donna asked.

"Aside from the fact that I'm grounded until alien invaders take over Earth, not too shabby." Jolene suddenly beamed a mega-watt smile at her friend like she had just won the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes. "One great thing came out of it though."

"What good could possibly come out of being arrested and spending the night in jail?" Donna looked at her friend like she had lost her mind. "Did you hook up with Big Bertha?"

"Nooo! Way better." Jolene was practically jumping up and down on her bed. "I slept with Jax Friday night!"

"What the Hell?" Donna screamed.

Jolene rolled around the bed laughing hysterically. Finally catching her breath she said between giggles, "I slept with him, not slept with him!" Jolene made an obscene hand gesture to emphasize her point.

"You no good heifer! Explain yourself before I die from heart failure."

Jolene explained what was actually a very innocent night cuddling with her old man without going into much detail. Some things were just too special to share.

"After we talked, he stayed with me all night. He climbed down the trellis outside my window in the morning before our parents woke up. It was the most romantic night of my life."

"Yeah, and you only had to get your ass thrown in jail to make it happen." Donna quipped. Ignoring the stink eye Jolene gave her, she asked, "Do you know how soon your hearing will be?"

Jolene sighed. "We should find out some time this week. My dad's lawyer thinks the judge will go easy on me because it's my first offense and because of my good standing in school. If he takes the facts into consideration, hopefully everything will work out fine."

It just has to work out.

"Clay, you need to calm the fuck down." Bobby quietly advised.

Sitting at the Redwood table, Bobby watched his brother as he paced back and forth behind his chair at the head of the table.

"How am I supposed to calm the fuck down, Bobby? When I think about how this asshole has screwed up so royally, I just wanna rip him to shreds!" Clay growled.

I can't really blame ya, Bobby thought grimly as the thought had occurred to him as well once or twice in the last 72-hours.

In fact, the entire Clubhouse was up in arms over the situation. Generally speaking, the members of the mother charter who sat tableside couldn't give less of a shit about the teenage angst and troubles of any members' offspring. It was hard enough keeping up with the troubles concerning Club business.

However, out of all of the children associated with the MC, Jolene Morrow was different. Not only was she the MC President's daughter, but she was by far the favorite of them all. That had been pretty much the case since her first day on the T-M lot.

Standing in the open doorway of the Chapel, Big Otto watched his pissed-off President angrily pacing the room. Otto wasn't happy with the situation himself. He and Luann had grown to love Jolene as they would have had she been their own. Otto wanted to tear a strip off of Jax too, but he knew that, if he didn't step in to calm Clay down, things could get really ugly, really fast.

Just then, Clay confirmed his suspicions. "I ought to strip him of patch for this shit!"

Big Otto quickly walked into the Chapel and closed the door behind him. "You may want to rethink that, Clay."

"What the fuck is there to rethink? That shithead is responsible for getting my baby girl arrested and if the shit doesn't fall right side up, she may spend the next three years locked up!" Clay thundered.

Otto walked up to his brother and put his ham fist on Clay's shoulder. "You have every right to be angry and concerned. Now sit down." He ordered.

Clay fixed a steely blue stare on his VP. "What?"

"I said sit, before you wear a hole in the floor." Otto said calmly as he crossed his arms. "Calm the fuck down and let me and Bobby talk to you."

After giving Otto a fulminating look, Clay sat down in his chair and Otto followed suit.

"You have every right to be angry about this situation, but to put this all on Jax ain't fair, brother." Otto counseled.

Before Clay could open his mouth to tell Otto where he could shove that little nugget of wisdom, his longtime counselor conferred with his VP.

"Otto's right." Bobby chimed in. "Technically, this isn't Jax's fault at all."

"What?" Clay asked again, disbelief rendering any other response impossible at the moment.

"You know your daughter as well as any of us do," Otto continued. "And there isn't a damn thing in the world she wouldn't do to help Jax out of a jam."

"Not only that, but Kit's the self-appointed superhero of the underdog known as the Nutcracker." Bobby smiled. "That girl will take up for anybody who's defenseless. It's a by-product of her shitty life with her egg donor."

"And although I love her, what about the fact that she shouldn't have been at the Clubhouse in the first place, especially without any one of us around?" Big Otto countered. "Had she been home in her bed instead of shooting pool—"

"And ripping off the hang-arounds like you taught her to—" Bobby cut in.

"—she would have never gotten the call that set this off in the first place." Otto finished.

For the next hour, Otto and Bobby continued to double-team their President until at long last Clay threw his hands up in defeat. "Holy shit! Alright already! If I hear another word out of Team Jax I'm gonna aim my puke at the both of you." Clay nearly bellowed, his anger turned down to a low simmer instead of the burning inferno it was not too long ago.

Rubbing his face with his two large mitts, which were currently throbbing and irking the hell out of him, Clay sighed. The one thing that he had always appreciated about Otto was the one thing he couldn't' stand about him at the moment. The worst part was that he was right.

Clay knew that if Jax could go back in time to change the events of last weekend, he would as he was just as overprotective of his stepsister as she was of him. And as much as Clay hated to admit it, Jolene was indeed mostly to blame for what happened. He sure as hell couldn't punish one without punishing the other.

"So what would you have me do about Jax?" Clay asked, looking into the faces of both his brothers.

"What you won't do is strip him of his patch." Bobby advised. "What went down was bad, no doubt, but it wasn't Club-related. You strip him for this and it's going to look bad, not just here in the mother charter, but to the rest of the MC once it gets around. Let's not even think about how Kit would take it."

Otto nodded his head in agreement. "Everybody knows that Jo has a serious soft spot for Jax. It would devastate our girl if you were to strip Jax because of this."

"And she sure has hell wouldn't let you forget it either. I wouldn't want to live with that." Bobby interjected. "And let's not forget Gemma."

"Dear Lord, I forgot all about Gemma. The two of them would make your life so miserable you'd wanna strip your own patch and go into Wit Pro. Bobby's right. The best thing you can do is to treat this as a family matter." Big Otto advised. "Your stepson messed up, so you gotta set him straight. Everyone will understand that. Keep his ass in the doghouse for a couple more weeks. I'll give him every shit job I can think of and Bobby and I will keep an eye on him, talk to him. Hopefully, we can get his head out of his ass and in gear."

Clay sighed and then nodded his assent. It was times like these that really made him appreciate the brotherhood. Clay knew that he could be something of a reactive nut job. That was why he surrounded himself with brothers like Big Otto and Bobby. Their reasonable and somewhat laid back demeanors had a calming effect on him and they never hesitated to give it to him straight even when he didn't want to hear it. Not many could pull Clay back from the ledge when he needed it.

"Okay, we'll try it your way, but Jax had better straighten his shit out. And soon."