Chapter 1:

I sit on the curb, leaning back against the fire hydrant. My whole body hurts. Blood was dripping down my face from the wound at the crown of my head. It hurt to move. Every fiber of my being practically screamed whenever I took a breath.

The familiar roar of a motorcycle filled the street. The headlights lit up everything as it turned down the road. As it came closer, I tried to get up, only to fall back down against the fire hydrant. My body was in too much pain to be able to stand.

"Shit," The biker said as he climbed off. He crouched down next to me, taking my face gently into his hands.

I gave him a broken smile. My own Prince Charming. "I knew you would come."

He sighed, helping me up off the grown. "I'll always come."

Jax Teller was my own personal guardian angel. Whenever I was in need, he came to my rescue, no questions asked. By now \he's figured out that my uncle was the one who has done this to me over the years. The time for no questions asked had passed after the first couple of months of me calling him to rescue me. As angry as it makes him, he doesn't do anything about it only because I ask him not to. Instead he takes me away from it, hiding me in the clubhouse with him.

"Think you can ride?" he asks me.

I lean against him, unable to stand on my own without wobbling. "I don't think so."

With a nod, he flips out his phone. I rest my head against his shoulder as I listen in to the conversation. Of all the people on his contact list, there are only two that he would call when it came to this. It was all just a matter of who he wasn't mad at this week.

He held onto me as we waited for them to come. His hand gently stroked my red hair as he whispered soothing words. In his arms, I felt like nothing could ever hurt me. Then again, if Jax had it his way nothing would.

I breathed in his familiar scent of leather, cigarettes, and cologne. It was a smell that could sooth me no matter what has happened. Whenever I smelled it, I knew that I was safe.

Headlights lit us up. I heard the sound of a door opening, but didn't pay attention.

"Damn it," Opie said as he took in my appearance. "Jax, you can't let this happen anymore."

"I know," Jax growls. "You think I don't want to do anything about it? She won't let me. Every time I try, she tells me that he'll get what's coming to him. Yet she won't allow me to be the one that gives it to him."

"I'm right here," I murmur into him.

Glancing down at me, he kisses my forehead. "Can you ride my bike to the clubhouse? We'll follow you there."

Opie nods.

With a quick motion, Jax picks me up and carries me to the truck. Gently, he sits me down on the seat before climbing into the drivers sit. For a few minutes we ride in silence. I sit there, watching him as he drives. He doesn't look at me. Instead he keeps his eyes on the road.

"What happened this time?" he asks, breaking the silence.

"He was drunk and pissed that I'd burned his dinner." I said. "I tried to get away, but he grabbed my hair. Next thing I know I was being flung down the stairs."

"Shit," he swears under his breath. With one hand, he fumbles around his picked. He pulls out a cigarette and lighter. His hand shakes with anger as he lights the cigarette.

I don't say anything else as we drive to the clubhouse. It was no use, it would only make Jax angrier if he knew what my uncle had said. The silence filed the truck.

With one last turn, we had arrived at the clubhouse. A row of bikes was against one side of the parking lot. Jax parked it next to a sleek black Cadillac that I recognized as his mother's. He came over to my side, picking me up. I rested my head against him as he carried me into the clubhouse. Opie didn't follow us in. Instead he left, heading home to his wife and kids.

"Jackson, where the hell-" Gemma Teller-Morrow's voice greeted us as soon as we came in. She cut herself off as she took in the sight of me. "Oh, baby girl."

"Can we do this later?" Jax asks.

Gemma nods, letting us go up the stairs. As much as she hates most of the women that Jax get's himself involved with, I am one that she has no problems with. Growing up, Jax had been my best friend. Now as adults, we are still close. To Gemma, I was still the little girl that gave her mother's day cards because my own mother had passed away when I was little.

Jax carried me into his room, laying me down on his bed. Reaching into his nightstand, he pulled out a first aid kid. I knew that I was part of the reason that he had that in there. With a cotton ball coated in disinfectant, he dabs the wound on my head. I hiss as it stings. Once he has dabbed the wound, he takes a cloth and wipes off the blood that had dripped down my face.

"Is this all of it?" he asks.

"The only one that needs to be dressed," I tell him. "The rest is just bruises."

He puts away the kit. He slips off his jeans and sneakers. I watch as he pulls his shirt off. His muscles ripple as he moves to go turn off the light. With his back to me, I got a good view of the Sons of Anarchy tattoo that was spread across his back.

Once the lights were turned out, he made his way back towards the bed. I felt the bed dip as he climbed in next to me. Despite my bodies protests, I moved over until I was in his arms. He pulled me closer, letting me know that I was safe. The warmth from his chest heated up my cheek.

"You know that I'm not letting you go back there this time," Jax said, breaking the silence.

"I know," I sighed.

"He isn't gonna get his hands on you again."

"Good night," I whispered sleepily, allowing myself to fall into the darkness.

I woke up the next morning in Jax's arms. Ignoring the aching of my body, I looked up to see Jax still fast asleep. Every part of his face completely relaxed and peaceful. He was handsome whenever he was awake, but breathtaking when he was asleep.

"Staring isn't appreciated this early in the morning," he grumbled, throwing an arm over his face.

Laughing, I pulled his arm away from his face. "Jax Teller not wanting someone to think he was attractive? Is today the day the world ends?"

He chuckled, grinning down at me. "Someone's in a good mood this morning."

I nuzzle his chest. "I'm warm and safe."

His arm tightened around my waist. "You'll stay safe too. You aren't going back."

I sighed, "I know."

"Mom will want to talk to you," Jax said. "She got an eye full of you last night. Probably hasn't stopped worrying since."

"I'll go talk to her."

"Jo, I wish you would let me take this to the club."

I shook my head. "The club doesn't need to be worked up by trivial things like this."

"You aren't trivial," Jax assured me. "You're more apart of the club than any of the sweet butts out there."

"Oh so I'm just a sweet butt?" I tease, trying to get him off the subject.

He gave me a flat look, letting me know that I wasn't going to get off that easy. "At least let me do something about it."

"You can," I said. "You can help me find somewhere to stay since I'm not going back."

Rolling his eyes, he let out a snort. "Like hell you're going somewhere else. You're staying with me. At least until I know that he won't make a move on you."

I kissed his cheek. "I never said thank you for last night."

He sighed. "You don't have to."