Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Author's Note: Thank you so much to all of you who took the time to comment or review the first intro chapter. I really wasn't sure if another J/T teenage story was warranted, but I'm glad to see that there's still this much interest.
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Without further discussion, they all step outside, but unbeknownst to Tara, both Opie and Jax keep watchful eyes on their surroundings. They have one job to do tonight, the Club is counting on them to keep the girl safe, and they aren't going to fuck this up.
So they all pile into Piney's pickup truck, Opie gets in behind the wheel, from the passenger side Tara climbs into the middle, her muscles and bruises protesting in pain, making her wince at even this small incline to climb inside. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Jax offering his hand, trying to help her, but she powers through it and pretends she didn't see it, so eventually he drops it without saying a word, before he climbs into the seat right next to her.
Even though the truck has a single bench seat, easily fitting three men, it did not however have much foot room for the person sitting in the middle. The floorboard is elevated in front of the middle seat, to accommodate the manual stick shift, and you have to basically lift your leg over to the other side and sit with your legs spread in order to sit comfortably.
For a grown man, nothing unusual since most of them sit that way to begin with, but for a teenage girl of Tara's size, it is an awkward way to sit, to say the least, especially considering that the driver would constantly be shifting back and forth right in front of her, too.
So to preserve one last shred of dignity, Tara doesn't do that, instead she keeps both her legs on the passenger side of the gear shift, knees pressed tightly closed, as much as she can, to not invade too much into Jax's personal space right beside her.
But of course, leave it to the blonde teenage boy to point out the obvious, treating her like she was some kind of prissy girl, who'd never sat in a pickup before. "You know you can put your left leg on the other side, darlin', you'd have more room, probably be more comfortable that way." Jax says, pointing to the other side of the stick shift while he speaks.
"I'm sorry, do you need more room?" Tara meets his eyes and asks without missing a beat, and Opie feels a little less tense when he finally hears her more confident tone of voice come through again for the first time tonight.
"No, don't worry about me, I'm fine." Jax shakes his head, and moves his legs just a little, to show that he has more than enough room still.
"Well, then ... no offense, guys." Tara dryly replies, looking up at Jax for a second again, who'd raised a cigarette up to his lips, lighter already in hand, before she dares a look at Opie on the other side of her, smoking already, and adds just as dryly. "But I don't open my legs that wide around boys I barely know."
What follows are gales of laughter from both boys, and Tara smirks and then even blushes a little, when Jax finally stops laughing and looks passed her to meet Opie's eyes instead, raising his eyebrows almost to his hairline, when he says grinning, "I like her."
Opie's still grinning too, because this is the girl he's come to know. He puts the truck in reverse and slowly backs out of the driveway, then quickly puts the truck in drive and starts heading down the street.
Both windows are rolled down, a cool summer breeze flowing through the cabin of the truck, and Tara pulls her long hair together into a low ponytail, using the scrunchie she'd shoved into the pocket of her sweats earlier, while both guys smoke away in silence as if this is the most natural thing to them at just sixteen years of age.
"Could we make a quick stop at my house?" Tara suddenly interrupts the quiet, finally giving light to her true intentions all along why she wanted to go along with Opie, but she doesn't miss the way the guys share another look between them, like they've been doing a few times tonight.
But before either one can even answer her, she tugs at her grey sweats and her shirt, trying to make her point, "I wear this to sleep in, and this t-shirt isn't even mine, it's my dad's. I just want to change into some jeans, one of my own shirts, and I also forgot to grab my toothbrush."
"Cops might still be there." Jax pipes up.
"So?" Tara replies, and shrugs her shoulders again. "It's my house, they can't stop me from getting something out of my own house."
"Yeah, but ..." Opie starts, but then the words die down on his lips, and he shares another look with Jax, suddenly unsure what to say exactly.
"What is it?" Tara stares at him, having caught the look he'd given his best friend just now.
Opie sighs, because knowing Tara, it would be easier to just come right out and say it. "My dad asked Jax and I to keep an eye on you? Because that guy is still alive and out there somewhere."
"Okay." Tara replies, "I appreciate that, but what does that have to do with me grabbing some clothes out of my room?"
Opie flicks the ash off of the cigarette out the window, before he glances back at her for a second, "I'm pretty sure my old man will lose his shit if he finds out we took you with us to get pizza, let alone make a pit-stop at the scene of the crime along the way?"
Tara scrunched her eyebrows together, "So what ... I'm your prisoner? I'm not allowed to leave?"
Opie lets out a frustrated sigh. "Look." Jax chimes in for the first time now, realizing Opie isn't quite sure what to say, so he's coming to his defense. "Of course you're not our prisoner, but when the Club left, it was implied that we're not suppose to leave the house, so we're already pushing our luck bending the rules here, darlin'. The quicker we all get back, the less likely Piney will find out. Not sure if you've ever had the privilege to be on the receiving end of Piney's anger, but trust me, it ain't fucking pretty."
"It will only take like a couple of minutes, it's not like I'm packing for a vacation or something." Tara begins to plead her case with them, but then on a whim decides to change her tactic and suddenly adds. "Or I can get out right here right now, walk the rest of the way to my place and won't be your fucking problem at all anymore. Your call."
"Jesus, your old man wasn't kidding when he said you're a fucking handful." Opie mumbles under his breath, but after a few more seconds he abruptly pulls into the nearest empty driveway to turn around, since he'd already missed the turn-off to the street where she lives.
And while Tara tries her best not to openly smile in triumph, Jax right beside her does and shakes his head in a bit of amusement, wondering just why Opie has never mentioned knowing this girl to him before.
"Why don't you go on and get the pizza, and I run in and get changed and pack some clothes for tomorrow, and you come get me again on the way back. Saves us time that way, if you're really that worried about Piney coming back soon." Tara offers as a solution, looking back and forth between the two of them for a reaction.
Opie shares another look with Jax, and Tara can see the reluctance in both their faces, but then Opie finally nods, just in time as he pulls up to the curb right in front of her house and comes to a complete stop. No sign of Charming PD anywhere at this point, the house looks dark and empty, as if nothing of importance has taken place here earlier tonight.
"Alright, you and me get your stuff, while Opie get's the grub." Jax says, extinguishing the last of his cigarette against the outside of Piney's truck, before he flicks the end of it out of the window, and shoots Opie a look, "We'll stay inside until we see you pull up."
But just when Jax reaches for the door handle, Tara speaks up. "Why can't Opie come with me, and you go get the pizza instead."
Another glance between the two boys and this time Jax can barely keep the obvious irritation of being dismissed by her off of his face, but before he can speak, Opie does the talking for them. "Jax isn't allowed to drive my dad's truck anymore."
"Why not?" Tara inquires, looking confused.
"It's a long story." Jax replies now from the other side of her. "It's either you and me doing this, or you'll have to keep wearing what you are. Your call." He repeats her words to them from just a few moments ago, and gives her a pointed look.
"Fine, let's go then." Tara says, and nods towards the door for him to open it already.
Jax quickly climbs out, and this time he doesn't leave her a choice, and basically lifts her out of the truck when she seems to struggle for even a second. But neither of them says anything about it, just merely a look is shared, before Jax shuts the door on the truck and Opie takes off without so much as a look back.
The streetlights in front of the house, mixed with the full moon and clear sky, illuminate everything enough for them to be able to see, even considering how late it is already. When they're walking up the driveway, it suddenly dawns on Tara that she doesn't have her keys with her, never even brought them over to Piney's in the first place, and to the best of her knowledge they're still in the house, probably sitting on the counter of her vanity table in her room.
She checks the front door anyways, after all, the house had still been packed with Charming PD by the time she'd taken off, but it's no surprise to her that the door doesn't budge. But she plays it off well before Jax can even ask, and comes right out without a trace of embarrassment in her voice, "We've gotta go 'round back, use the spare key. I left mine in the house earlier." And Jax silently follows her along, hot on her heels, to the black wrought iron fence that runs along the side and around the back of the house.
He's still keeping a lookout for anything suspicious, even though he really doesn't think the guy would be stupid enough to still be hanging around once the cops had shown up earlier, but you can never be too sure. So while he's busy looking over his shoulder, trying to focus on anything possibly lurking in the shadows of the neighborhood surrounding them, Tara's attempting to climb the fence by herself.
"Fuck." She suddenly curses out in a low whisper, holding her side in obvious pain, standing in front of the only five feet tall fence, and is rewarded with his full attention again at once.
"What's going on?" Jax whispers back and steps closer to her.
Tara shakes her head in frustration, "I've climbed this damn fence more times than I can count since I was little, but ..."
"You're hurt." Jax finishes for her, because it doesn't take a genius to have figured that out by now, by the way she's winced just getting in and out of Piney's truck.
Tara just nods, averting his eyes because she's embarrassed, but Jax doesn't linger on the subject, doesn't ask her what or where it actually hurts, but instead just intertwines his fingers, locking his hands together and holds them out in front of her, his palms facing up, so she can use it like a step.
She hesitates for just a split-second, but then puts one foot on his hands, holds onto the fence with one hand, bracing herself on his shoulder with the other and he quickly gives her a successful boost up, reaching up and holding her by her waist until she sits down securely. Like a crow on a wire!
She's sitting atop the horizontal iron bar that runs along the top of the fence, wondering for a second how painful it would be to just jump down in her condition, but before she can even finish that thought, Jax climbs across with ease and speed, the metal slightly vibrating under her from his movement. And then he's already standing in front of her now, reaching up for her waist and is pulling her down towards him before she could even think to protest. "We need to hurry and get inside, you being out here in the open makes me fucking nervous."
"Thank you." Tara answers sweetly at first, for his help to get over the fence, before she's making sense of what he's just said. And she's smart enough to know what he's getting at, knows Jax is worried the guy might be lurking behind one of the neighbors bushes or in the shadows of a tree, and with a gun could easily finish her off from that short distance. "He doesn't have a gun." She whispers back.
"What?" Jax asks at first, wondering if he's heard her right as they head towards the back of the house, noting how their surroundings are much darker now since they no longer have the benefit of the streetlamps that are lining the road, there's only the bright big moon overhead to light up their way now.
"I said he doesn't have a gun, just a knife." Tara repeats still talking in hushed voices, as Jax follows her to the back porch, but he can't help it and has to ask. "How do you know that?"
"Because he pulled a knife on me. If you had a gun, wouldn't you point that at someone instead?" Tara replies as if it is a no-brainer, but Jax taps the Ka-bar knife on his belt for a second, making sure she sees him do it, before he replies. "Maybe he just prefers using a knife." He feels pretty confident with his choice of weapon.
Tara tries not to roll her eyes at him, but she can't bite her tongue. "Or maybe he's merely sixteen and doesn't own a gun."
"He's our age?" Jax asks in surprise, a one track mind at the moment that's all about protecting her, and has either missed or is completely dismissing the way she's just teased him amidst it all.
He's turning away from her again, being the look-out, while Tara's bend down, looking for the fake rock that holds the spare key inside, hidden in the pretty flower bed she'd started planting earlier in the spring.
"No, he's a grown man. I was kidding." She replies, starting to work the key into the lock now.
When Jax hears her unlocking the door, he turns around and stops her just in time before she's pushing the door open. He takes the key from the lock and pockets it, pulls her behind him and steps in front of her, pulling his knife from its holster now too, not taking any chances.
Up until this point Tara hasn't really felt all that nervous coming back, or maybe she's just successfully convinced herself that there is nothing to be nervous about, and put on a brave face, but the way Jax is acting now has her suddenly scared all over again, and has her rethinking her own idea. Coming back for something as trivial as a change of clothes starts to sound dumber with every passing second.
They step inside the quiet darkened house, Tara's right behind him, he's reaching back with his free hand, making sure she stays hidden behind his bigger frame as they take small steps further inside, before Jax reaches over and flicks on the lights to the hallway by the door.
Her bedroom is to the right of them, and he flicks the light on there as well before they both step into her room, him ushering her now ahead of him.
He nods towards the wall for her to stand, makes her wait between her bedroom and closet door, while he checks her closet, checks the on-suite bathroom too, even goes as far as to bend down and checks under her bed for her, and for a moment Tara's reminded of her father doing that to check for monsters in her younger years.
Never in her wildest dreams would she have predicted or pictured that Jackson Teller would be in her bedroom like this, wielding a knife, checking every crevice for some bad guy that's after her. It seems so utterly surreal to her, like she's caught in some twisted mixture between a dream and a nightmare.
But she shakes those thoughts away, waits for Jax's approving nod to allow her to relax and venture further about her own room. "All clear here, so do your thing, but hurry, while I go check the rest the house. Close and lock your door behind me, alright?"
"Okay. Thanks." Tara nods, and watches him leave, doing as he instructed her and locks her bedroom door behind him, she's almost shaking now at how nervous his cautious demeanor makes her.
But she tries once more to push her fear away and doesn't waste any time, quickly shrugs out of her clothes, and pulls on a pair of jeans along with a black top that actually fits her. She then grabs another couple of her favorite things to wear, shoves them hastily into an empty old backpack she found sitting on the bottom of her closet, and hurries to get her toothbrush and a few other toiletries she had forgotten earlier, too.
She also grabs her small black purse, checking to see if her wallet is still inside, grabbing her little bottle of perfume and some make-up off of her vanity and shoves that in, too, but to her surprise, what she can't find are her keys. Maybe she's left them in the little catch-all bowl on the little shelf in the living room across from the arm chair. She does leave them there sometimes instead, she'll just have to check and see.
Then she sits for a moment on the chair by her vanity, taking a deep cleansing breath, clutching her bag and her purse, ready to get the hell out of here now. No longer busy, her heart is starting to pound faster in her chest with every second that's ticking by, because Jax is taking longer than she thought it should take to check the rest of the house. But she tells herself that he's never been here, doesn't know the layout of the place, and he's probably just being thorough, or at least she hopes that that's what's keeping him ... nothing more.
Just as that thought appears in her head, there's a little knock on her door, followed by an almost whispered "Darlin', it's me."
Tara gets up quick, swift fingers unlocking the door now without hesitation and for a split-second she's almost tempted to hug him in relief when she is greeted with a sweet smile and friendly blue eyes from him upon opening the door. But on a closer look she notices that his smile doesn't quiet reach said eyes though, and she already knows why. It's because he saw the living room, and the way it is trashed because the brunt of the fight has happened there.
"Ready? Got your keys this time?" He asks, grabs her backpack from her and swings it over his shoulder with ease.
"No, actually, I think I might've left them in the living room." Tara says trying to convince herself, even though she could've sworn she tossed them on her vanity, right next to her purse, when she got home after work this afternoon.
"Alright, let's get 'em, Ope should be back pretty soon, too." He flicks the lights off behind her, his hand is on her lower back to usher her out of the room, before he pulls her bedroom door closed behind them. They pause just long enough for Tara to lock the back patio door beside them on their way to the living room, Jax flicking off lights along the way as well.
She swallows the lump in her throat when they have to step over and sidestep some of the mess on the floor on their way through. Her dad had told her on the phone to leave it be, so he can take stock of what's been broken, take pictures for their insurance claim, too, but it's a eyesore, it disturbs her every time she sees it.
She's leading the way to the front living room, but Jax is right on her heels, his knife's tugged away again and it's strange how it eases her mind considerably that he obviously found nothing of concern.
However that moment of ease is short-lived when Tara's rifling through the little catch-all bowl and is not finding what she's looking for. She's starting to feel a little nauseous now, cold sweat beginning to form in the hollow of her back when she lets the reality set in that her keys aren't here either. She quickly glances around the rest of the room again, it's such a mess, but no, they're not here.
But before she can bring voice to her sudden panic, Jax interrupts her when he speaks up, "What kind of dog do you have? And where is he?" When he'd checked the rest of the house, he'd noticed the dog bowls on the kitchen floor, still food and water in them, but no dog in sight.
He's standing in the little reading nook by the front window, facing the street, the blinds are closed, but he's holding open a little gap, peeking through, keeping an eye out for Opie pulling up with the truck.
"Oh ..." Tara shakes her head, suddenly so flustered and nervous, but still letting her eyes scan over the stuff around the floor once more just to make sure, while she answers him. "He's a big mutt, not even sure what he is. He's at the vet, he's been throwing up the last few days, so my dad dropped him off on his way to the airport this morning. He's pretty old." She rattles out the explanation way too fast, spinning around then, can't keep up the small talk about her pet anymore, and can't keep the panic from her voice another second longer either. "I ... I can't find my keys. They're supposed to be here, but they're not, but this is where I would've left them."
"Charming PD probably took 'em, had to lock up somehow." Jax offers as explanation without missing a beat, turning in her direction because he took notice of the shaky and scared tone in her voice, even though his mind was brewing over something else at the moment. Her dog.
"Right." Tara nods her head in a temporarily moment of relief, "You're right, that's probably -." Instantaneously her eyes flicker up to the front door before she even finishes that sentence, but she can already see it. "Oh shit." She rushes to the door, noting how just the bottom lock is engaged, the one you can just pull shut behind you when you leave, but the deadbolt is still unlocked. Charming PD would've made sure to lock that if they had taken her keys.
"What?" Jax says and steps around the corner, right beside her, but she doesn't have to explain a thing, his eyes scan over the locks and he's caught on just as quick as she did. And then he reaches up, locking the deadbolt in place now, before he quickly flicks off the lights, too, leaving the house back in the dark again, just like they'd found it.
"What are you doing?" Tara asks in a hushed voice, not understanding how being in the dark is a good idea considering what they've just discovered.
"If he's got your keys, darlin', you really want him to know you're back home?" Jax whispers back, and even though it's dark, there's enough light coming in from the streetlamps through the blinds that he can see her nod her head in understanding. He reaches passed her, looking through the blinds, mumbling under his breath. "Where the fuck is Ope?"
Tara's hiding her face in her hands, she's visibly shaking, barely able to contain her panic now. She had been perfectly safe at Piney's house, what the fuck was she thinking wanting to come back here tonight. She feels like such a child right now, suppressing the urge to cry out for her dad, god, what she wouldn't give for him to be here right now.
But Jax brings her out of her dark thoughts when he reaches out for her. She flinches at first, hasn't expected his touch, but his voice is low and soothing and she lets him pull her into his arms, "Hey, it'll be alright. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise"
He manages to sound downright convincing for her benefit, but he himself is starting to have a very bad feeling about all of this.
This isn't just some random break-in, he obviously has staked out the house, somehow knew her dad would be gone, got the dog sick, getting rid of it, too, leaving her helpless and alone at home, completely oblivious to the fact that she was being targeted.
Which also meant that the guy might've been out there all along, had been watching the house this whole time, waiting for her to come back tonight to finish the job, before her old man got back in town again. Shit!
"Where's your phone?" He whispers, to hell with Piney's wrath, they could be in deep shit here and he's not chancing it.
"There's one right over there." She nods in the direction of the smaller living room with the TV, between here and the dining room, while she whispers back in a hurry, suddenly having the same idea as he is. Let's call the police.
Jax looks out the window once more, but when there's still no sign of Ope, he slips off her backpack and leaves it by the door, grabbing her hand and tugging her along, careful not to trip and fall over the mess between here and there, thankful that their eyes seem to have already adjusted to the darkness again.
He lifts the receiver up to his ear, quickly dialing the number he has memorized by heart, waiting for the cue then asks her for her number. At first Tara looks confused for a split-second, but gives it to him anyways, and he punches it in fast, before he quickly hangs up.
"I thought you were calling the cops." She brings voice to her thoughts in another low whisper.
"No, I paged Sam Crow." He replies just as quietly, and takes a seat right by the phone, perched on the armrest of the big oversized lazy-chair. Running a soothing hand up and down her back, and pulling her into his side again. "Trust me."
"So, now what?" Tara says, just slightly allowing herself to relax a bit, mostly due to his reassurances.
"Now we wait for Piney to call back." Jax replies confidently.
They wait patiently for the phone to ring for several long minutes, but when it doesn't, Jax makes some more calls, paging his other 'uncles', other members of the Club, every number etched into his mind, memorized for moments just like this one. He's leaning out of her way, but still keeping his hand on her back when Tara enters her phone number each time. Waiting and hoping one of them will finally call back before too long, because he's not sure how much longer he can keep her from calling Charming PD instead.
But when still nothing happens, Tara goes back to the window by the front door, checking if maybe Opie has pulled up yet, while Jax watches her from the other side of the room, but stays within reach of the phone should it finally ring.
They don't speak, just sit and wait in complete silence and darkness, and Tara swears her heart is beating so crazy fast in her chest, that she's convinced Jax can hear it on the other side of the room.
Tara's looking out the window, still keeping a look-out for Opie, when there's suddenly a noise coming from the back of the house, it startles them both, and she spins around the same instant Jax comes to a stand from his seat in the chair.
Their eyes meet when they hear a noise again, and from the sounds of it, it's someone trying to unlock the back door. Their eyes are still connected across the distance, Tara looking back at Jax in a panic, he raises his finger up to his mouth, telling her to keep quiet, but next makes a gesture with his hand, also telling her to come over to where he is, so she does, careful not to trip or step on something that could make a noise.
The door to the coat closet right across from them is still open from when he had checked the house earlier, so he quickly ushers her inside, getting in after her and pulls the door almost all the way closed. Thankful that the hinges are well oiled and don't make a sound. He's leaving just a small sliver of a gap so he's still able to see out, when he unsheathes his knife once more out of its holster on his belt.
He blindly reaches back for her with his other hand, catching her arm and lets his hand slide down to her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, because he can hear the panic in her labored breathing alone.
Jax still hangs onto that small glimmer of hope that it's just someone from the Club coming to check out the place, or an CPD deputy coming back to check up on things after maybe a neighbor had called, or maybe it was Opie, having caught wind that something was up and had parked down the road out of sight.
All of these different scenarios rush through his mind, but they are all shattered when the person in question finally steps into the living room and comes into - albeit obscured - view.
Even in the darkness of the house, it is easy to tell that it is neither Ope, nor a cop, nor a Son. The guy is playing it smarter and is wearing a mask over his face this time, but still leaving only one other option in Jax's mind.
Jax can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins at full force at the thought that this was not only the guy that has attacked Tara earlier, but he very well be the guy that has already brutalized and murdered four other women in Charming over the last couple of weeks. The implication sickens him to his stomach, because it means that he will surely stop at nothing to silence the only person who could identify him, which meant Tara.
Jax holds his breath, watching the guy as best as he can through the small gap between door and doorframe. Watches as he looks about the place, carefully stepping over some of the wreckage he'd left the place in earlier, when he starts heading towards the dining room, directly bypassing them in just a handful of moments.
In a split-second, Jax makes the decision that they can't just stand here like sitting ducks, waiting to be discovered and slaughtered. So he knows he'd have to jump the guy should he even look like he is about to open this closet door.
And just when it seems like that is going to happen, the phone finally rings, startling and causing the man to spin around in the direction of the sound, and with it giving Jax the upper hand and opportunity to catch him off guard. So Jax quickly pushes the door open and charges at him at full force, causing both of them to tumble to the ground.
The phone continues ringing while Tara stays hidden in the darkness of the closet, scared frozen in place for a moment, while she watches in horror as the fight breaks out. They punch each other, taking turns, blow after blow, and every time she thinks Jax has gained the upper hand, the guy somehow makes a comeback and manages to pummel Jax just as badly in return.
She finally snaps out of it, starts scanning the floor for Jax's knife, because somewhere it got lost in the scuffle, and when she can't see it, she looks around for anything she could use as a weapon instead, and takes note of her father's bag of golf clubs leaning in the corner next to her. So she quickly pulls one out and emerges from the closet, holding it with two hands as if it was a baseball bat, ready to take a swing to come to Jax's aid.
The phone stops ringing just when the intruder realizes her presents and turns her way, but to her dismay he successfully dodges the swing she takes at him with the golf club in her hand. But it's enough of a distraction to give Jax the chance to gain the upper hand again, he swiftly kicks the guy in the back of his legs, causing him to fall to his knees, then wraps his arm around his neck in a chokehold, squeezing with everything he's got while the guy keeps struggling against him, clawing at Jax's arms in a desperate fight for air for several long minutes.
Tara stands there, golf club still in hand, ready to take another swing should the guys make yet another comeback, but then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he jerks for a second before he finally passes out. She stumbles back onto the couch, still shaking like a leaf, but so relieved that this is finally over.
Jax is coughing uncontrollably for a moment as he struggles back to his own feet and comes to a stand, leaving the passed out guy laying on the living room floor, he steps in front of her. He's still breathing so fast and labored, trying hard to catch his own breath as he's crouching down right in front of her, to meet her eyes.
Tara shakes her head to herself, somewhere lost between wanting to break down crying and wanting to laugh, and even though he's the one looking like a bloody and beaten mess, Jax's voice sounds full of concern for her when he asks. "Are you alright, darlin'?"
Is this real? Did Jackson Teller just safe my life?
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Author's Note: I was just so motivated to write the next chapter for this story, that I just couldn't help myself. So here it is. Hope you guys like it and leave me a few words about it. Thank you.
