Jax wasn't sure where the morning and afternoon went. After breakfast, he and Julie had taken the boys for a walk to the park. Then they'd gone home and played a rousing game of hide-and-seek, even though letting Abel out of his sight for even ten seconds mafe Jax twitchy. Before he knew it, was lunchtime and then time for Thomas to have a nap.

Abel insisted on having a nap too, in Thomas's room, even though the boy hadn't napped in at least a year. He recognized a fight not worth having and put his hands up in silent surrender while Julie helped Abel drag his mattress into his brother's room.

"I don't know what that was," said Jax, settling on the couch next to Julie.

"It seems like he wants to protect his brother. A good instinct. Apple, tree, and all of that."

Jax lit a cigarette and sighed out the smoke. "I don't know how good a job I've ever done protecting anyone."

Julie bit her lip, like she was trying to keep herself from asking a question.

"C'mon, out with it, Pix. You know you can ask whatever you need to ask."

"I've just been wondering. How did things go so...wrong?"

Jax looked up at the ceiling as he exhaled, as though the answer would be written in the smoke. "Darlin', I wish I knew. I've been asking myself that for months. Maybe even a couple of years. Seems like every time I get in position to change things, something else hits us, blindside, and we're just struggling to survive."

"But you've survived and now you can finally set things right?"

His laugh was short and not quite as bitter as he'd expected. "Yeah. Now everything is going to be peaches and cream."

Julie ducked her head, her hair curtaining her face.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that," said Jax, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. She looked up at him and met his eyes, a moment suddenly stretching between them.

The front door swung open and Julie instinctively jerked away, sliding down the couch.

"Whose piece of shit is parked in your driveway, Jax?" asked Gemma as she barged into the room. She stopped suddenly to assess the situation, her smile freezing until it slid into an unpleasant, cynical look.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were entertaining company."

"I was actually just leaving," said Julie, jumping up and picking up her purse.

"You don't have to go," Jax said to her, before directing his next comment to his mother, "although you probably should, Ma."

"No, that book's not going to write itself. Was good to catch up with you."

Jax stood up and hugged her, quick and fierce, but long enough to whisper in her ear. "The streams. Meet you there in an hour."

"Goodbye, Jax, goodbye Gemma," said Julie as she fumbled her way out the front door.

"Goodbye, Pixie," said Gemma, making the last word sound somewhat mocking.

"Really?" said Jax. "Was that really necessary?"

"Your wife's body is barely cold and you're already inviting the past in to cozy up with you? Jackson, that girl is a bad idea in so many different ways, I can't even begin to count."

"Tell me something, Mom, how long was it after Dad died before you took up with Clay. Oh wait, nevermind, that was going on before Dad died, so I guess that makes it okay."

Gemma's eyes flashed, but she sat down and sighed. "Grief makes you mean, Jax. It made your father weak, but it makes you mean. That's fine, I can live with that. But I'm just trying to look out for you here."

Jax rolled his eyes, but sank down on the couch. It would only take him 15 minutes to get to the streams and it was important that Gemma not think he was rushing out to meet up with Julie. Although with her suspicious mind, she'd probably suspect it all the same.

"Where's Unser? You two are joined at the hip these days."

Gemma lit a cigarette. "Hospital. He's got some kind of tests that are going to take most of the day. Thought I'd come over here, help out. Didn't know you'd already found some help."

Jax shook his head, let the dig pass by unremarked. He looked at Gemma to let her know he was serious. "Hope everything's okay with him."

Gemma shrugged one shoulder and Jax could see that they'd finally found something that they could agree on: these days, it felt like nothing would or could ever be okay again.

-/-

Julie stopped at a coffee shop for a latte and a brownie. She also picked up a few newspapers, then

headed for the streams, taking her time. Even so, she arrived more than a half hour early. She picked a place to park her car that gave her access to a shaded place to sit, a long view of the approach road, and a speedy escape. Her time spent in war zones for the newspaper and shady back alleys for her gutterpunk book had given her some new skills.

She sat down on a log and kicked off her shoes, letting her feet sink into the cool, tickly grass. She savored her first sip of latte and then glanced at the papers. The headline QUESTIONS STILL HANG OVER MC GANG LEADER was printed over a picture of Jax leaving court and LOTS OF PRESSURE, FEW LEADS accompanied a picture of a harried looking African-American woman whom Julie recognized as the district attorney.

Julie didn't think she could handle the papers right now, and she knew it had been a few days since she'd last spoken to Tim. She picked up her phone and called him, partly hoping that the call would go to voicemail. She felt an odd flutter in her stomach and rolled her eyes. She had nothing to explain or feel guilty about. She blamed her parents for instilling too good of a conscience in her.

Tim picked up on the seventh ring, then dropped the phone while he turned down the volume on a racous country tune about house rules. Julie knew he was in his pickup. Her mind immediately put him on the road to the dunes, even though she knew he was just as likely to be headed to Home Depot.

"Jules, how's life on the streets?" he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, could picture the warmth in his eyes.

"Cold and damp," she replied, wincing only slightly at the lie. She didn't need any pressure from him about coming home. She did her best work when she was away from him, and this book needed to be her best work.

"You're not going to recognize the house when you get home. Our room is completely finished, now I'm starting on the second room, it would make a great-"

"I can't talk long, I just wanted to let you know that I was okay." She couldn't let him finish that sentence. He might have said office, but he just as easily could have said nursery. She didn't understand how the high school boy who lived in fear of a double-pink line on a pregnancy test had grown into a man who was just itching to paint a nursery and whisper to a bump. She wasn't ready to settle down like that, not yet, not even close.

"Oh, right, I understand. Thanks for letting me know. Any idea on when you might be home."

"Couple months, maybe longer. I still need to get a few more things done."

"I miss you."

"Me too." She knew it wasn't a lie, but she wasn't sure it was still the truth.

"Alright, we'll talk soon. Love you, stay safe."

"You too."

Julie disconnected the call and dropped the phone into her bag. She picked up the brownie and the newspaper. She smelled a story here in Charming, and she didn't know if it was just an easy distraction from the book or if it was more than that, but she wanted to know what had happened. And she realized that she especially wanted to know what happened next.

Some time later his bike roared up, breaking the silently peaceful moment. He walked toward her, squinting into the sun.

"Finally escape your Mama's clutches?"

"Just barely. Grief makes her extra clingy." He sat down beside her and plucked the newspaper out of her hands. She tried to grab it back, but he easily held it just out of reach while he read the headlines.

"Sorry," said Julie sheepishly.

"Unless you wrote it, you got nothin' to be sorry for." He dropped the paper onto the log and rested his elbows on his knees.

Julie felt like she was walking on a tightrope, but she couldn't help herself. She was a reporter, and she knew a hot story when she saw it.

"So is this reporter at all right when he rounds up the possible suspects?"

Jax glanced back at the paper and was silent while he scanned the sidebar. "Bizlats are unlikely. Mayans are possible. I definitely didn't do it, and I can't really think of any... current club member who would've done it."

The brief pause before the word "current" made Julie's pulse race. She looked sideways at Jax, then looked away while she casually asked. "Is there a former club member that you suspect?"

Jax smiled. "I see why you're good at this writing and reporting thing, Pixie."

She felt the heat of a blush warm her cheeks. "Sorry, occupational hazard. I can't seem to turn it off."

"Don't apologize. I'd hire you to get the full story, if I could."

"You don't have to hire me. I'd like to help you find out what happened. It could help you..." she paused, struggling to find a phrase that wasn't horribly cliched.

"Find closure?" asked Jax with a bitter twist to the words.

"No. I don't think there's ever any closure for a wound this deep and raw."

"Aren't you afraid that I'll just learn whatever you find out to get revenge on the murderer?"

Julie felt her heart catch in her throat, fluttering like panicked bird trapped in a cage. She hadn't considered that as a possibility. She forced her fear to quiet, then looked at Jax. "I think you've had enough experience with revenge to know that it won't bring Tara back and it won't help you be a good father to your boys."

"I hope you're right."

"My track record isn't quite as good as my mother's, but I'm right a fair bit of the time. So, if you really want me to look into this, I can. I should probably move down here, spend some time just hanging out so that people get used to me before I start asking a bunch of questions."

"What about the cabin?"

She shrugged. "It's just a weekly rental. I'll find a place down here. Probably wouldn't look real good if I stayed at your place."

"You could move into Tim's old place."

"No thanks, that would be too weird. I saw a few ads in the newspaper for small apartments above the shops on Main street. One of those would do fine. So, when I'm ready to start talking to people, who should I start with?"

"Damned if I know. Roosevelt is dead – he was probably the last person who saw her alive. One of the neighbors told me that there was an old pick up truck parked in the drive way. Unser has an old truck."

"Okay, I can start with Unser."

"Just be careful, Julie. He's spending a lot of time with my mother. I don't want her to know you're asking questions about Tara."

Julie frowned. "Your mom still isn't my biggest fan?"

"She doesn't trust you. Who knows what kind of crazy conclusion she'll jump to if she thinks you're asking questions and maybe looking for the truth."

"And here I thought it was because she's afraid of what I represent for you."

"And that is?"

"A road not taken."

"Among other things," he replied, and brushed her hair back behind her ear. She held out her hand, and he took it. They sat in the quiet, with their history hanging comfortably between them.

We own nothing thank you for the follows and reviews thus far. If you're enjoying it please tell us.-The Lost Verse Team