All characters, etc from Sons of Anarchy belong to Kurt Sutter.
Time to Settle the Score
The punch landed hard and solid. The recipient grunted and stumbled back, only just remembering to keep their guard up. That saved them from taking another left hook to the face although it required some pretty fast footwork to avoid the series of jabs to the ribs that followed it. More punches were thrown from both opponents. One was older, more skilled, but the other had youth and speed in their favour. So far this bout seemed to be an even match; no clear winner could be identified.
The crowd around the ring whooped and hollered their support and encouragement for both fighters. It was the usual noisy Friday night in the Teller-Morrow lot. The boisterous after-Church party was in full swing. The fires were blazing and the drink was flowing. The tangy smell of weed mingled with musky sweat and woody charcoal. Underneath it all was the irrepressible smell of fuel and tarmac warmed by the baking heat of the day.
The crowd this night was a mixed bunch. As well as the usual suspects, patched members of SAMCRO, hang-arounds and mechanics from the garage there were a few members of SAMTAC milling around, enjoying the hospitality on offer. They had been lured into Charming by the momentous events of recent months. Ima stalked the crowd looking for a target. Although there was plenty of female flesh present, she still figured her chances of scoring a Son to keep her company for the night, or possibly longer, were good. She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder, tugged the indecent neckline of her dress a little lower and added a little more strut to her step. An observer would be hard pressed to notice the wide berth she was giving Jax Teller, but she'd managed to keep a good fifteen feet away from him all night.
Having retired from the police department, even Wayne Unser was in attendance. He sat at one of the scattered picnic benches with Bobby and Chucky enjoying some of Bobby's 'special' muffins. They were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes and were doubled over holding their stomachs at the sight of Chucky trying to eat the light and crumby sponge with just his palms and index fingers.
The fighters in the ring continued their assault on each other. This fight had been a long time coming. For years the resentment had been brewing, bubbling, threatening to take over and corrupt this unconventional family. It had finally peaked and reached its apex. Tonight was about settling differences, large and small. It was about resolving grievances both real and imagined.
Sweat dripped from each fighter, spattering on the canvas floor of the ring. Blood flew with each connecting punch. There was no trash talk. The pugilists were deadly serious. Their only language was gasping breaths and panted grunts.
"Aw man, what I wouldn't give for some jello to throw in there right now!" Tig whined, his attention rapt on the action in the ring.
Chibs was also watching the fight closely, so he barely acknowledged his brother's comment. He was impressed by the skill of the untrained participants. Both seemed to know instinctively where the other's weaknesses were and were exploiting them to the fullest. He'd never seen a fight quite like this before, so vicious, so much emotion contained in the violence. His other reason for watching the fight was the bag of medical supplies he had close at hand. He would be called on to patch up the combatants once they had been separated and ushered out of the ring.
Jax was watching the unleashed aggression in despair. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with this, no idea who he was supposed to be rooting for or whether he could end it without damage to himself. He didn't know whether he should step into the ring and get between his mother and his old lady before they ripped each other apart or let them continue to pound out their issues on each other's flesh.