Chapter 2: I'VE LOVED YOU SINCE I WAS SIXTEEN
"Something's wrong with Teller," Cane tells Patterson as he leads her to the holding cell where they've been keeping the biker king, "He's been like this since we brought him in last night. Hasn't moved or said a word. Hasn't touched any food or water either. I don't think he's in any kind of shape for questioning."
Patterson enters the cell and immediately agrees that something is definitely wrong. Teller's on the cot, curled into a fetal position; eyes open but staring blankly ahead.
"Jackson," she calls out, testing the waters. "I'm here to ask you some questions about what happened last night."
No response – not a word, not a sound, no indication that he's even heard her at all. As she moves closer she can see that he's shaking, slight tremors wracking his shoulders, arms, hands and legs.
Alarmed, she checks his neck for a pulse. His skin is ice cold, clammy; his heartbeat is dangerously slow, barely discernible.
She knows her successful track record as a DA was, in no small part, built on the diligent study of all her adversaries. And she has a wealth of knowledge about Jackson Teller, including his family's congenital heart problems. "Call an ambulance," she orders Cane. "We need to get him to the hospital NOW."
Jax decides early that he hates high school. Oh, he's good with the weekend parties, the steady supply of ready and willing high school girls (in addition to the ready and willing croweaters at the Club) and being able to spend the day with Opie - skipping classes to smoke under the bleachers by the track. But he hates, absolutely hates the pointlessness of having to study about shit he'll never use in a million years. His future is secure as the one day leader of SAMCRO, and nothing he could ever learn from fucking algebra or fucking world history would ever be of any use once he gets the gavel. It's a fucking waste of time, and he starts counting down to the day he can tell the tight-ass principal to fuck off when he finally drops out.
It seems like an eternity, but freshman year finally, mercifully ends. He and Opie decide to celebrate with a double-header: kicking off the night at party thrown by graduating high school seniors and then by partying into the morning hours at the Club – both would be well stocked with booze and pussy.
Jax had just settled on the couch with a beer and his pussy of choice pulled onto his lap, when he sees her. For the second time in less than a year, Tara Knowles blows him away from a distance and renders everyone and everything around him invisible. Since their meeting in the cemetery and afternoon spent gorging on ice cream, he hasn't spent much time with her. It's not as if he'd been avoiding her; it just happened that way. They didn't have any classes together all year (apparently her test scores placed her in either freshman honors or upperclassmen level) and after school, instead of going to Opie's house, he and Opie either helped out at Teller Morrow or hung out at the Club. And she never attended any of their classmates' weekend parties or bonfires, at least not that he ever saw her.
Until now.
There's no way he could miss those long, lean legs and that perfectly shaped ass encased in snug jeans. And no way he could miss how her dark green button-up camisole skimmed her lean waist and cupped her full breasts, showing just enough cleavage to make a man forget his name. It also left her slender, pale arms bare so he could admire all that creamy, exposed skin. But then he realizes, to his mounting anger, just like last summer, there's another smarmy asshole touching her. It's a different guy this time; Jax vaguely recognizes Scott McKay, Charming High's starting quarterback and one of the graduating seniors hosting the party. What the fuck is up with Tara and these older guys? The jock strap is holding her hand and stroking her arm like she belongs to him. And Tara, goddamn her, just smiles up at this douchebag and touches his face. Jax's vision goes red. He does not like this; not one mother-fucking bit.
"Jax," he hears someone calling his name and then feels something wet and slimy in his ear. Shit, what's-her-name on his lap was trying to pull his attention back to her. It works, but instead of turning him on, he's annoyed. No, not just annoyed, he's fucking pissed. The douchebag is leading Tara by the hand out the patio door to the backyard, the dark and secluded backyard.
He pushes Slimy Tongue off of him and forces a cocky smile, "Sorry darlin', I gotta take a leak." It's a lie, but he's no longer in the mood for her, "I'll be right back." Another lie, but he doesn't give a shit. He doesn't even pretend to walk towards the bathroom but stalks right out the patio door.
Once out the door, Jax doesn't have to look far to find them; his eyes adjust quickly to the dim patio deck lights. The horny bastard has her pressed against the wall of a tool shed a few feet away. Tara wraps her arms around his neck as he bends down and sinks his tongue into her mouth. Jax's blood pressure rockets into the stratosphere. He rushes over to the edge of the patio, ready to launch himself over the deck railing and beat this guy to shit, when someone grabs him from behind and shoves him against the wall of the house.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Opie whispers furiously at him as he ducks the punch Jax blindly throws at him. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
Jax doesn't answer as he continues to struggle out of Opie's iron grasp, "Don't make me hurt you, man," he threatens his best friend, who out-weighs him by at least twenty pounds. "Get your fucking hands off me!" He's nearly shouting from the combination of frustration and fury.
"What're you gonna do?" Opie glares at him, trying to use reason to pull his friend back from the throes of his crazed temper. "Beat the hell out of that guy in front of her? You think you're gonna win points with her by showing that you're just like her old man?"
Jax immediately deflates, the fight leaving him in a rush. Too many times he's seen Tara in tears, shaking with fear and pain after her dad's drunken rages. He'd wanted to beat the shit out of Frank Knowles each time, but each time she'd beg him to stand down saying she didn't need to see that same violent behavior from one of her only friends. But his outrage is still there; he hates, fucking hates the sight - the very idea - of Tara with another guy. As if sensing his conflict, Opie releases his iron grip but continues to stand close, blocking Jax from making another attempt at jealousy-fueled murder.
But before either of them can do anything, Unser and Charming PD arrive to break up the party and herd everyone out. Apparently one (and probably more) of the neighbors was not happy with drunken, drugged-out high schools students spilling out of party central. Jax and Opie head over to their bikes; Jax keeping an eye on Tara and her date the whole time, scowling as McKay opens the car door for her.
"That asshole had better not have been drinking," he glares at the clean-cut football star as he walks around to the driver's side door and get in – if only looks could kill. "I'm going to follow them to make sure she gets home okay."
Opie rolls his eyes, but nods that he would ride with Jax. Then he lets out the laugh he'd been holding back since he intercepted his friend from making a publicly jealous ass of himself.
"What the hell's so funny?" Jax grouses, speeding up so he doesn't lose sight of McKay's car. Not only does he want Tara home safe, but he also doesn't want that shitbag to think he can get any further with her - not in the back seat of that car or an invitation inside her house. He would definitely fucking kill that guy before either of those things could happen.
"This is the second time you've left some hot chick hanging to go brawl over turf that's not even yours," Opie teases. "She let you have it the last time; wonder what she'd do if she knew you were tailing her on a date like a psycho-stalker."
"Fuck you, Ope."
Ten minutes later, Jax sighs with relief. The fates have finally shown him some mercy after a completely shitty night as McKay drives Tara straight home. He and Opie sit on their bikes in the Winston driveway (partially hidden by Mary Winston's car so they don't look like pathetic, spying idiots - which Opie said was pretty much too late). Jax tenses when he sees McKay open Tara's car door and escort her to her front door. Her dad's Cutlass isn't in the driveway so the house is empty. He feels his blood pressure spiking again.
"Relax, bro." Opie hands him a cigarette – probably to keep him from chewing off his thumbnail.
Instead, Jax nearly sets his fingers on fire trying to light the match while watching intently as a smiling Tara talks softly to her shithead date. A calming smoke becomes moot as he winds up crushing the cigarette when McKay leans down to claim Tara's mouth. But before Jax can pounce, she steps away, smiles goodnight and goes inside – without her date, who stands there for a moment before getting into his car and driving away.
Opie breaks the silence, "I'm going to the Club, time to have some fun," he looks at Jax pointedly. "It's not even eleven, Old Man Knowles won't be home for hours – longer if he spends another night in the drunk tank." And with that, he rides off knowing that Jax would not be going to the Club with him.
Jax watches Opie ride off and then turns to stare at Tara's front door, walking towards it slowly. It's the point of no return. He finally admits to himself that he has been avoiding her deliberately; knows he's not entirely comfortable with his confused feelings for the girl he's known pretty much his entire life. This new, crazy possessiveness and intense sexual attraction combined with the bone deep affection he's always had for her scares the shit out of him. If he makes the next move, he knows his life will change dramatically. If she doesn't return his feelings and turns him down, then he'd lose her as a friend because he knows now that he can't be "just friends" with her because he'll always want more. But then if she does welcome this change to their relationship, it would be the first time so much of his happiness could be wrapped up in a single person. Both options are equally terrifying. But it's the latter that keeps him striding towards her front door and ringing the doorbell.
She's still wearing the sexy camisole and tight jeans that she wore at the party, but her long hair, which had been flowing straight and sleek down her back, is now in its usual pony tail. His fingers itch to pull it free.
"Jax? Are you okay? Is something wrong at the Winston's?" She looks worried and steps aside to let him in so she can peer out the door at her neighbor's house, as if expecting to see emergency vehicles lining the Winston driveway.
He shakes his head, shuts and locks the door before pulling her into his arms. He smiles broadly and gazes down into her beautiful, albeit startled, face before slanting his mouth over hers. Stunned surprise renders her momentarily immobile, then those slender arms wrap around his waist and she kisses him back with equal ferocity. His knees nearly buckle in relief and desire as she wraps her tongue around his. She moves her hands under his shirt to feel the hot skin of his back. He pulls her hair out of ponytail holder and runs his hands through the soft, silky mass. He squeezes her tighter so that he can feel the press of those lush breasts against him and grind his hard cock against her. He wants to pull off that camisole and see for himself if her nipples are as pink as he envisioned just a few months ago.
"Tara," he groans, dragging his mouth from hers to nibble on her neck. She immediately begins to rub against him harder, gripping his ass with both hands. "Oh shit, you make me so crazy," he breathes into her neck, licking at the soft skin and savoring her moans of pleasure as she trembles in his arms.
Then her hands still, and she pulls away slightly to stare at him, her green eyes bright with newly awakened desire. She presses a hand to his cheek, "Jax, what are we doing? What is this?"
She's confused. Well good; that makes both of them. He's not entirely sure he knows what he's doing; he just knows that he's done seeing her with other guys. Which means he needs to claim her for himself. But before he can stumble through an explanation, her always nimble brain jumps to the logical conclusion when it comes to his reputation with the female gender.
"I'm not ready to have sex yet," she tells him softly, pulling out of his arms. "I can't be as casual about it as you are."
He wants to tell her that nothing is casual for him when it comes to her. Yes, he wants to fuck her in the worst way. But he also wants to wait until she's completely ready because when it does finally happen between them, he knows it will be life altering. For now, he's willing to take whatever she's willing to give him because even the smallest part of her would dwarf anything he could ever want from anyone else.
"I didn't come here for that, Tara," he assures her, drawing her back to him. It's not exactly a lie; he really didn't come to her expecting sex, but a man can always hope. "I just want you to know that I want to be more than friends with you. I've wanted that for a long time now but just wasn't sure whether I'd be ready for it, that you'd be ready for it. I've never felt like this before." As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows there's no way he could have ever said any of this stuff to anyone else and not feel like a complete pussy. But with Tara - like all things - everything is different, special, better.
"I'll wait for as long as it takes, Tara." He strokes her face, savoring the feel of her soft skin and the beauty of those mossy green eyes.
She gives him a slow, gorgeous smile, "Do you want to stay here tonight? I'm sure there are other fun things we can do," her smile turns impish, teasing as she plays with the zipper on his hoodie. Not wanting to waste a single minute, he grins, lifts her over his shoulder and makes a quick beeline for her bedroom, stroking that perfect ass while she squeals in delight.
He was right; her nipples are indeed pale pink, thick and suckable and highly sensitive. He's very proud of himself that he's been able to make her come just by suckling, licking and nibbling on those tight pink buds – over and over. During the long summer days and nights, Jax becomes a diligent student of Tara Knowles; taking his time to learn everything there is to know about pleasuring her body. Besides those delicious nipples, he learns that her neck is also incredibly sensitive. Even the slightest pressure from his hands or lips on the sides or back of her neck, and she's ready to tear off his clothes. He knows exactly where on her body to touch, stroke and kiss to make her tremble with passion, moan with desire and scream with ecstasy.
During her more intense orgasms, she practically chants his name over and over; fuck, does he loves that. But the absolute best is knowing that, despite her reserved demeanor with most people, she can be aggressive and playful and rather adventurous with him. They could be at the movies, at the diner eating burgers or at the ice cream parlor, and suddenly he'd feel her soft, magical hand in his lap stroking him, rubbing him until he'd be rock hard and near insane. Then she would drag him into the nearest bathroom, closet, backseat or dense set of bushes and finish him off with her lush pink lips, nimble tongue and hot mouth. Shit, it's amazing for him to realize that – despite the dozens of sexual encounters he'd had before Tara – none had ever been this intense, this mind-blowing, this fucking hot and they've not even had actual sex yet.
He knows he's in deep shit with her, but that's okay because he also knows that she's in equally deep shit with him. Despite her passionate, sensually adventurous nature - she'd actually never done most of the stuff she'd done with him with anyone else. He knows he's a total fucking hypocrite, but it's a damn good thing no other guy has ever made her come or been inside her or has had his naked dick anywhere near her, because he honestly thinks he could kill any guy who had carnal knowledge of his girl. Tara Knowles belongs to him and he intends to keep it that way.
Opie mocks him, making whipping noises whenever it's just the two of them - which Opie points out is not as often anymore because Jax can't walk from here to there, blow his nose or wipe his ass without talking about, talking to or touching his girlfriend. Of course, he keeps his teasing to a minimum when Tara is with them. Being the only children of dysfunctional marriages on top of having grown up next door to each other, Opie and Tara are the closest to brother and sister the other has. And being all of four months older than her, Opie feels a big brother's need, not only to protect her, but also to harass the living shit out of her boyfriend.
"It's super cute to see you this way, Jackson," he coos in a sing-song voice just as Tara walks through the door, and Jax lights up like a Christmas tree.
"Shut the fuck up," Jax growls, but he can't keep the smile off his face as he goes to grab her hand.
Jax's sixteenth birthday falls during one of the last weekends of summer; it's a huge deal as he'll finally get the Harley and cut that he's been dreaming of owning since childhood. Once he turns sixteen, he'll finally be a Prospect - the first step to fulfilling his father's legacy. So Gemma is both surprised and furious when he tells her that he wants the SAMCRO party that she's planning for him to be the day after his birthday because he wants to do something else on the actual date.
"You're shitting me," she yells at him in disbelief. "What could possibly be more important than celebrating with the Club? With your Brothers?" And four months ago, he would have agreed with her.
"Listen Mom, I still plan to celebrate with everyone. Just a day later; I don't see the big deal. Opie and I have plans with some kids from school on the actual day." It's not exactly a lie; he has been making plans to celebrate his birthday – just not with Opie. "Besides, it's better to have that party on the Saturday anyway. Gives the charters and nomads another day to get here."
He'd been preparing his line of reasoning for days, knowing that Gemma would fight him on the decision, and possibly question his priorities. She continues to rail at him – especially when he tells her that he doesn't plan on waiting until the party to get his Harley. Days later, she finally concedes when she realizes that he – the one actually having the birthday – was not going to back down. But Gemma Teller is no one's pushover; he knows she suspects that he's keeping something from her (which he is), and she'll get it out of him eventually.
On the day of his birthday, he finally gets his long-awaited Harley. It's a special moment at TM; Gemma, Clay and all his Brothers – Opie, Piney, Otto, Bobby, Chibs and Tig are there to congratulate him with hugs – and ribbing - all around. Gemma is still suspicious over his birthday plans, shooting him and Opie calculated glances as they both marvel over the new bike. "You two have fun today," she prods, waiting for one of them to crack.
Opie, the best friend a guy could ever have, shoots Jax a broad grin, "Oh WE will."
Now that he has his Harley, he wants to take Tara to one of his favorite spots – a secluded park near the base of Mt. Walker, about an hour's ride from Charming, where JT used to take him and Tommy on overnight camping trips. Jax had loved it there but hadn't been able to bring himself to go back since his old man died. Now he wants to share this special place with his special girl.
Tara has never been on a motorcycle before; he can tell she's both excited and apprehensive. "Babe, I promise, it's totally safe," he assures her. "I've been riding my whole life. My old man taught me, and he was the best." He feeds her soft, pecking kisses until she completely melts and climbs on behind him. As she wraps her arms around his middle, he realizes he's made one miscalculation – yeah, he's been riding pretty much most of his life, but he's never had the luscious body of Tara Knowles pressed against his back, her long legs open and rubbing against his. Shaking his head ruefully, he pulls out of her driveway; an hour on a rumbling Harley with a raging erection was going to be interesting. Hopefully he doesn't do anything to embarrass himself or get them killed.
She loves it; he can tell right away. Her face is flushed, and there's an exultant sparkle to those green eyes as she beams at him. "That was incredible!" She grabs his face and plants a smacking kiss on his lips. He pulls her even closer and starts nibbling on the sensitive skin on her neck, savoring her breathy moans. "You're incredible, Tara."
He sets up a tent, but it's late summer in Northern California so the air's still warm despite the setting sun. After a light dinner, they decide it's too nice not to sleep outside and cuddle inside the makeshift bed Tara's made with their sleeping bags. It's a clear night with a full moon and brightly lit stars so he can see her beautiful face clearly. For several long moments, all he can do is stare in wonder at how lucky he is to have her in his life.
"Happy Birthday, Jax," she whispers in his ear, her warm breath sending shivers down his spine. She presses hot, wet kisses against his throat, hardening his dick more than he thought possible. He moves to claim her mouth while she strokes and rubs him through his tented jeans. She smiles as he moans her name; pulling down his zipper and the top of his boxers to grasp his cock. He's hard and hot and wet against her hand. She reaches down to cup his balls, fondling the sacs gently, knowing how ultra-sensitive he is there, "Fuck, Tara, that feels so fucking good," he gasps against her neck, sucking the sensitive skin, making her moan his name and grip him harder.
"Please babe, got to slow down," he pants as he grinds against her hand. She gives his balls a firm squeeze that elicits another loud moan and string of curses from him, then switches to one finger to stroke the head of his cock - smearing the wetness across the smooth and slippery dome. When she removes her hand altogether, he jerks out of his blissful daze and stares into her smoldering green eyes.
"I love how you taste," she lifts her finger, wet from his pre-come, and sucks it slowly into her mouth. "I want to drink more later," she promises suggestively. He feels his cock jerk against her thigh as he surges up to claim her mouth in a bruising kiss.
After the highly arousing tongue duel, she breaks away and pushes him back into the sleeping bag. She sits up to pull off her hoodie, and he notices that she's wearing that sexy, green button-down camisole that had driven him crazy before. She traces the shell of his ear with her tongue before whispering that she's not wearing a bra, just for him. His self-control snaps; he pushes her down on her back and tears open her camisole so those glorious, lush breasts are bare and ready for his hands to fondle and his mouth to suck. She rears up in anticipation, and he opens his mouth to take in as much of her right breast as he can. But his girl is more than a mouthful, and he loves it. Loves it.
"Jax, oh god Jax," she gasps, her hands tunneling through his hair, gripping tightly. "Fuck me, baby. Now," she moans louder as his tongue presses her nipple against the roof of his mouth, "Now."
He pulls away slighting, raising himself up on not-so-steady arms to stare at her, hoping to god that he's hearing her right. "Tara," he strokes her face, "Are you sure?" He hates asking that question, giving her an out, but he wants her to want him inside her – as much as he's been dying for it. Hedging his bets, he starts ripping open her jeans.
"I brought condoms," she pants as he finds and rubs her clit, again and again. Her head rolls back in ecstasy as he drives one and then two long fingers inside her while he continues to press his thumb against her clit, "Fuck me," she cries out, "Jax, please."
He doesn't need to be asked again. He rips off her jeans and underwear and then reaches over to his bag (strategically placed next to his head) for his condoms. Quickly, he rips open the foil and sheaths himself. Rising above her, he settles between her open thighs. He braces himself with one hand next to her head while cupping a bare breast with the other. He bends his head to lick her nipple, each tongue lash harder and wetter than the other until she's chanting his name.
He spreads her legs wider and enters her slowly, pushing through her hot, slick folds. Fuck, she's so wet and so tight, he has to hold himself still otherwise he'd come right there. His eyes slide to the back of his head; the pleasure so intense.
He feels the pinch of her short nails into his back, and he reminds himself again that he needs to go slow; it's her first time, and he'd die if he hurt her. Slowly, slowly he pushes forward, piercing the barrier that causes her to whimper in pain, "It's ok, babe," he croons to her, softly kissing her forehead, "I'll make it good. I promise."
Finally, he's fully embedded, breathing hard and ready to explode. But he can't move yet, not until he knows she's alright.
"Babe," he presses another kiss to her forehead. "Look at me," he begs, almost desperately. Those long, long lashes flutter open and he's nearly impaled by the force of those beautiful green eyes staring up at him with such trust, "You, okay?" he grunts as he feels her muscles start to contract, squeezing his already too-eager cock. She nods and rears up to stroke his lips with a lingering kiss. With that he snaps to action and starts to pump, driving his cock inside her, deeper and deeper. He hears her scream his name, feels her wet heat gushing over his cock as her long legs tighten around his waist. He's coming apart – the pressure starting from the top of his head, shooting intense waves of ecstasy down his neck and spine, clenching his ass and emptying his balls as he comes and comes and comes.
Jax knows that he's probably crushing her, but he can't find the strength to move. Like he's been paralyzed by the sheer force of the strongest orgasm he's ever experienced. He tries to catch his breath as he looks down at her gazing at him, a smile lighting up that beautiful face. He's hit by a rush of emotion so profound, so intense that he can't speak.
"Happy birthday, baby" she beams up at him, stroking his wet face with her soft, warm hand. Fuck, he hopes he's just been sweating profusely. After all, his little virgin has wrung him dry. Had he really cried while making love to her?
He stares at her as if memorizing her beautiful, smiling face in this moment and is suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful surge of emotions; affection, joy, protectiveness – it's as if he's always felt those things with her. But now there's one more, one that's been bubbling to the surface for months, maybe even years. One that he'd felt before for family, for friends – but never this deep, this consuming. He knows what it is, knows that it's real, knows that it's forever. He opens his mouth to speak and swallows hard as she continues to stroke his face; fuck, were those tears prickling his eyes again?
"I love you, Tara."
She says nothing and, for a heartbeat, he panics. She pulls his head down to rain soft kisses on his face, his lips. But before he can deepen the kiss, she pulls away, and her deep green gaze bores into him.
"I love you, too, Jax. So much. So much."
"What the hell's a matter with you, boy?" For the hundredth time, he glances at the Clubhouse entrance; nervous energy driving him to pace back and forth around the room, chain smoking cigarettes and chugging beer like water. The SAMCRO party is in full swing, and he'd spent the early part of the night playing the role of Jax Teller, Biker Prince, greeting and catching up with Brothers from different charters who made the trip. But Bobby Munson has known him since he was a kid and can tell something's off.
Opie's supposed to bring Tara to the party, but they're over a half hour late, which worries him. He runs through the events of last night and this morning, smiling to himself at how Tara woke him up with her tongue in his ear and her hand on his dick. He'd taught her how to ride him, and she'd blown his mind. When he dropped her off at home early this afternoon, she'd given him a long, wet kiss and assured him that she'd be here tonight. So where the hell is she?
He tries to play it cool in front of Bobby; wrinkling his eyebrows, pretending to be confused by the question. But after he darts another expectant glance at the Clubhouse entrance, Bobby gets in his face. "You feelin' ok? You know it hasn't gone un-noticed here that you haven't as much as looked at a croweater in months…"
Jax doesn't need this; he'd already had to deal with Gemma this afternoon. As expected, she'd gone poking around and found out that Opie spent last night with Kyle and Lowell partying in Lodi – thus blowing Jax's cover. She was waiting for him when he got home, armed with her intel and suspicions.
"Any reason why I haven't been introduced to the pussy who has my son jumping around like a goddamn trained seal – not to mention lying to his family?"
He knew he shouldn't let her bait him, but he couldn't let this go. Not after last night. "Tara's not pussy, Mom," he snarled and amped the wrath in his glare. "Don't ever talk that way about her again."
"Tara? Tara Knowles? Frank's daughter? The little girl that Tommy followed around for months?"
Jax closes his eyes, cursing his temper. So much for having Tara come to the party under the radar. It's vital to him that she be here, see him get his Prospect cut. However, he didn't want to subject her to the intense scrutiny from his Brothers, not to mention Gemma - which would be inevitable if they know what she meant to him. He shudders at the thought; he needs more time with Tara to cement what they have before he can subject her to his mother.
"Who's the chick with Opie?" Kozik, a Brother from the Tacoma charter, sidles up to Jax and Bobby and points his beer towards the door, "If he ain't laying claim, I'd sure like an introduction…"
Jax whirls around and feels his heart skip an actual fucking beat at the sight of Tara approaching, a bright smile lighting up her face. Shit, it's only been a few hours and he's already missed her so fucking much. How the hell did he think he could keep her under the radar? There's no hiding the most beautiful girl in the world, nor how he feels about her. He places his beer on the bar and grins a warning at Kozik, "She's mine."
He feels the pain like someone's ripped out his insides. And in a way, Mary Winston leaving town and taking Opie with her is tantamount to that. Born a month apart to fathers who were best friends, he and Opie had pretty much been joined at the hip from an early age. And they shared a destiny to one day lead SAMCRO, which they had always planned to do together. But Mary doesn't want her only son following in his father's footsteps and decides to take him away weeks before Opie turns sixteen and gets his Prospect cut.
He and Tara help Opie pack up his stuff, which doesn't turn out to be that much since Opie refuses to take most of it, saying that he plans to be back for extended visits. After loading everything in the car, Jax watches helplessly as Tara throws her arms around Opie's waist and sobs against his chest. Towering over her, Opie strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. Jax realizes that he's been so caught up in his own misery that he'd forgotten how Opie's departure would hurt her, too. He knows that he and Opie are pretty much the only family she has since her old man certainly doesn't give a shit about her, that drunk bastard.
Struggling to keep his own composure, he envelops Opie in a bear hug, "Take care of yourself, Brother. Get back here soon."
"Yeah, I will." Opie squeezes him back then pulls back and gives him playful shove, "Otherwise I'd miss your ugly face."
Jax can't imagine the long road ahead without his best friend; hadn't ever even considered it. As they watch Opie and Mary drive away, Tara grips his arm and squeezes his hand. He lifts their entwined hands and presses a kiss to her fingers before wrapping his arms around her.
When Mary's car disappears, Tara leads him into her house and into her room. She pushes him down to sit on her bed so she can straddle his lap. She tucks his hair behind his ears, then strokes his face. "I love you, Jackson." She kisses his cheek, "Love you." And his forehead, "Love you more than anything." When he finally breaks down and buries his face into her neck, she holds him tightly. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."
