Tara paced her living room like a caged tiger, back and forth, over and over. Her mind was going in a million different directions all at once, but she couldn't pin a single thought down. Jax was back. Jax Teller. In Charming. Holy. Shit. Go home, Chibs had told her. Take a shower. Have a beer. Relax. He was worried about her, and not in a jealous, possessive sort of way. He was around when Jax and Tara were a couple. He knew how much they loved each other. And he knew how much it killed Tara when Jax left her.

So she went home, even though she had no idea how she got there. Must have been her autopilot feature, the one that always kicked in when she was too tired or too stressed or too distracted to be driving. Sometimes she would find herself in her driveway, or in the parking lot at work, with no recollection of driving herself there. Luckily, she hadn't killed anyone yet. Not as far as she remembered, anyway. She took a shower, not bothering to worry about the temperature of the water. She couldn't feel it anyway. She was completely numb. Judging by the fact that her skin was ice cold to the touch, she was pretty sure it had been a cold shower. She tried to drink a beer, but it tasted like piss. She dumped it out after the first sip. There was no way she could relax. Jax was home. She had no idea what that meant, but it definitely meant something.

After a very tense, awkward moment at the clubhouse where everyone gawked at Jax like he'd just been beamed down from outerspace, no one saying a word, it was Clay that finally broke the silence, in the very eloquent way that only Clay could.

"The hell you doin' here?" he growled.

Jax broke the stare he'd had fixed on Tara and turned toward his stepfather. "Can we talk?" he asked nervously. "In private." With a half nod, Clay cleared the room. Gemma disappeared into the kitchen, Opie retreated to the apartment attached to the clubhouse, and the rest of the club headed outside with Chibs, Tara, and a very curious Sophie.

"Mama, who was thaaaat?" the little girl asked, peering over her father's shoulder into the clubhouse, hoping to get another glimpse of the beautiful stranger. Tara was shaking so hard, Bobby had to help her to a picnic table.

"Just an old friend, darlin'," Chibs whispered. "Tara, love, you alright?"

"I'm…" she searched Chibs' face for the right words, tears in her eyes. He sighed a pitiful sigh and unlocked Sophie's hands from around his neck.

"Darlin', why don't you have Uncle Bobby take you over to the swings for a bit, aye?" Bobby nodded, understanding, and whisked the little girl away. Chibs sat down beside Tara, putting his arm around her. She shied away from him, suddenly very uncomfortable about their relationship. What would Jax say? "Hey," he murmured. "This was bound to happen someday, right?" Tara nodded, her head spinning. "Why don't you come home with me and the girl? We can order pizza, watch a movie." A lone tear rolled down Tara's cheek as she shook her head. She needed to be alone. That much she knew.

"I'll be alright," she assured him. "He just...it caught me off guard, that's all."

"You sure?" Chibs' brow furrowed with worry as he ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

"Yeah," Tara flashed him a false smile, then got up and headed toward her car.

"Sophie Anne," Chibs yelled, his voice booming. "Come kiss yer ma goodbye!" Tara giggled as her daughter skipped across the parking lot, a goofy grin on her face.

"Bye, Momma," she said sweetly, reaching her pudgy little hands up toward her mother. Tara picked her up and squeezed her tightly, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Bye, baby girl. You be good for your daddy, alright?"

"I will," Sophie promised. Tara kissed her once more before putting her down. Sophie scurried over to her father, wrapping her arms around his leg. He rested his hand on the top of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair.

"I'll call ya tomorrow," he said as Tara got in her car. She nodded, put on her sunglasses, and tried not to make it too obvious that she was anxious as hell to get out of there. "Go home," he called after her. "Take a shower. Have a beer. Relax!"

Home. Shower. Beer. Maybe beer was exactly what she needed. Just not the cheap shit in her fridge.


Tara studied her reflection in the rearview mirror for the millionth time. It had been a while, too long, since she'd worn makeup. She felt like she looked like a cross between a circus clown and a cheap hooker, and wasn't quite as confident in her ability to pull off the smoky eye/red lipstick look as she once was. She blotted her lips together one final time and opened the car door, willing herself to get out. She stood on trembling legs, not sure how much of her wobbliness was due to nerves, and how much was due to the fact that she was wearing high heels for the first time in months, maybe years. She tugged on the hem of her too-short black dress, wishing she'd worn something else. Jeans and a slutty tank top, maybe? That would be more in line with the Tara Jax remembered. And she wanted to be that girl so badly, even if just for one night.

She took a deep breath and smoothed her sleek, shoulder length hair, then propelled herself toward the entrance of the only bar in Charming that wasn't considered SAMCRO territory, the only place she could think of that Jax might be.

She made her way to the bar with purpose, careful not to survey the room, even though she was dying to seek him out in the crowd. She'd hoped she would feel his presence somehow, but their connection had long since dissipated. Jax Teller was a stranger to her now, and she to him. She took a tentative seat on a stool at the end of the bar, trying to look casual rather than petrified. She ordered a beer and sipped it slowly as she pretended to be interested in the football game playing on the wall of flat screens.


She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but her beer was no longer cold and the score in the game had changed significantly, so it must have been a while. She was an idiot. What was she doing, running around town dressed like a whore, chasing after ghosts from her past? Jax was probably on his way back to wherever the hell he came from, not a single thought of her in his mind. She was wasting her time. She slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter and stood up, feeling like a complete and utter fool. She spun around, in a hurry to get out of there before anyone she knew caught sight of her. In her haste, she bumped into another patron who was approaching the bar. She stumbled, thankful when the stranger caught her by the waist and steadied her.

"Don't tell me you're leavin'," a hauntingly familiar voice said. "Not now that I finally worked up the courage to come over here and talk to you." Tara's breath caught in her throat, her skin turning to fire under his touch as his hands lingered on her hips. Slowly, she looked up. "Hey, Tara," Jax said softly. "Can I buy you a beer?"


"So what are you doing here?" Tara finally asked, unable to stand another second of the silence that had been hanging in the air between them since she and Jax sat beside one another at the bar.

Jax chuckled, amused by her bluntness. "It's complicated," he evaded.

"I'm sure it is," Tara said. Everything was always complicated with Jax Teller. "Are you staying long?" There was more hope in her question than she meant for there to be.

He shook his head, taking a swig of beer. "I don't know. Depends."

"On what?"

Jax smiled. "On things." God, he was beautiful, especially when he smiled. Tara wished he didn't still have such an effect on her. He shouldn't, considering how much things had changed since he left. Tara studied him carefully as they sat, neither of them saying a word. He was so different. His perpetually grease-caked fingernails had been replaced by perfectly manicured, skillful hands. She had no doubt that he was a writer. At least one of them got to live out their dream. She'd seen him all kinds of undressed during their three years together, but she'd never seen him in public without a kutte on. Even before he became a prospect, he wore a plain black one religiously. Wearing only a stylish, tight-fitting sweater, he looked practically naked. His hair was shorter than Tara had ever seen it, and perfectly tousled. He had just a bit of stubble on his face, which offset his pretty-boy look with a bit of rugged charm. He was mesmerizing. Perfect. He'd always been perfect.

"Things," Tara repeated. "Okay. Got it. No more questions."

"Tell me about you," Jax said. "How is Tara Knowles? Or is it-"

"It's still Knowles," she assured him. "And I'm fine."

Jax looked relieved. Tara tried to pretend that didn't please her, but it did. "So, you're a doctor? You had on scrubs earlier."

"Sadly, no." Tara smiled, amused. "I'm an assistant at an animal hospital. Exciting, right?" She was suddenly very self-conscious about the job she'd always been so proud of. It paid the bills, which was really all that mattered, right? No, a little voice in her head reminded her. You were supposed to be a world class surgeon. You know it, and so does he.

"Well hey, that's still in the medical field, right?" Jax's pity was not the sort of consolation prize Tara wanted. "And Chibs? You two are…" Jax let the question linger, seemingly unable to say the words.

"No," Tara laughed, shaking her head emphatically. "Chibs and I are just friends."

"Friends who have a kid together?" Jax raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"It's complicated," Tara said, using Jax's own words against him. He smiled, taking another drink of beer.

"What about you? Any ladies in Jax Teller's life?" The words were like glass on Tara's tongue. She really didn't want to hear about Jax's many conquests.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. Tara chuckled incredulously. "Well, no one worth mentioning." Tara's heart spiked erratically. No one worth mentioning. She couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

She changed the subject. "And are you a big, successful novelist now?"

Jax laughed, choking on the beer he'd been swishing around in his mouth. "No," he said between coughs. "No, I'm not. I write for The Wire, it's a…"

"News magazine, I know," Tara interrupted.

"You've read it?" Jax looked both mortified and hopeful.

Tara smiled, her cheeks turning bright pink. "No," she said sheepishly. "But I've seen it in the checkout lane at the grocery store."

"Aaaah," Jax said with a smile. "Well hey, at least you're not using it to line your cat's litter box or something, right?"

"I don't have a cat," Tara said quickly, wondering why Jax made that assumption. Could he see through the makeup and the short dress, right to her inner cat lady, who was destined to be alone forever? Jax looked confused for a moment, then laughed, taking another long sip of beer. Every time he drank, Tara drank. Before long, she lost track. Her ears were burning and her thoughts were swimming by the time she decided to count the number of bottles in front of her. Four. She'd had four beers and was working on her fifth. She would regret everything about this night in the morning.

She wasn't completely drunk yet, but she was definitely feeling…relaxed. Which made it much easier for her to communicate with Jax. They talked and laughed for a long while, completely unaware of the people around them. It was like they were in their own little bubble. It had always been that way when the two of them were together. It was nice to see that at least one thing hadn't changed.

"I gotta take a piss," Jax announced unceremoniously, pushing himself away from the bar. He stood, stumbling a bit before he caught his footing.

"You alright?" Tara giggled.

"I'm good, I'm good," he assured her, waving a clumsy hand in the air as he made his way toward the hall leading to the bathroom. Tara watched him walk away, unable to keep her eyes from wandering below his beltline. He still had that same confident strut, like he ruled the goddamn world.

With Jax gone, the silence was deafening. Tara scanned the room with bleary eyes, looking for familiar faces. She saw none. Good. When the door to the bar opened, Tara turned instinctively toward it. She recognized Tig and the new club prospect, Half-Sack, instantly. She spun around in her seat, praying they didn't see her. What were they doing there? Saul's was not a SAMCRO hangout. Wasn't really their crowd. They couldn't be looking for her, could they? She quickly checked her cell phone for any missed calls. Zero. If something was wrong, Chibs would have called.

"He's not at the hotel, so he's gotta be here," Tig sneered as he and Half-Sack unwittingly convened within earshot of Tara. "Aren't many other places for that little snake to hide. Not in this town."

"W-what are we gonna do?" Half-Sack asked nervously. "This is a nice place, man. We're not gonna bust it up, are we?" Ice water coursed through Tara's veins. She knew the guys weren't happy Jax was in town, but she didn't really think they'd go after him. That was always her mistake, though, giving SAMCRO too much credit. They were criminals, after all.

"Naw, man," Tig chided him. Tara let out a sigh of relief. "We're gonna take him outside before we fuck him up." Tara got up from the bar, her back rigid, careful not to let them see her face as she slowly walked toward the bathrooms, trying not to draw attention to herself. As soon as she was out of sight, she began running down the hall, to the men's room. Her heels clicked loudly against the tile, slowing her down. The door opened just as she reached it.

"Hey," Jax said with a drunk, lazy smile.

"Jax," she whispered, her eyes wild. "You've gotta get out of here." Tara noticed an emergency exit at the end of the hall, and began pushing Jax toward it.

"What? Why? What's wrong?" For the first time since he'd been back, Tara saw that Jax Teller fire in his eyes. For a moment, she had no doubt that he could hold his own with Tig. But then she remembered that Tig was most likely armed, and Jax most definitely wasn't. In a fair fight, Jax might stand a chance. In a fight against Tig, it was hopeless.

"I don't know," she said, continuing to shove Jax toward the exit. "I'll find out. But Tig and the prospect are here, and they're looking for you, and…" At the mention of Tig's name, Jax stopped resisting. The two of them had never gotten along, even when Jax was still part of the SAMCRO family. He knew how dangerous and unpredictable Clay's right-hand man could be.

"Alright," he agreed. "I'll go. But only if you come with me." He stopped just in front of the exit, planting his feet.

Tara looked nervously over her shoulder. Clay's goons hadn't thought to check the bathrooms yet, but it was only a matter of time. "What?"

"Come with me," Jax pleaded, holding his hand out to her. "Please."

Tara's heart leapt into her throat. Those were the exact words Jax had said to her just before he got in his car and left Charming for good. She'd turned him down then. She couldn't do it again. Her heart wouldn't let her.

"Okay," she agreed, a nervous smile playing across her lips. "I'll come with you."