Title: Accidents Happen
Chapter: 4
Written by: Traciaknows
Rating for Chapter: T
Main Characters: Jax Teller/Tara Knowles
A/N: This chapter has not been betaed. Any and all mistakes are mine.
I'm so grateful to all of your thoughtful comments, private messages, and encouragement. Your comments are so greatly appreciated. Thank you for sticking with me- writer's block is a real bitch.I'm so hopeful that you'll like this update as well.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.
Tara had never really been this up close and personal to a boy, let alone held hands with one before. Not really. She desperately hoped that her lack of experience didn't show. The baby fat that she had only recently grown out of and her dad's wanderlust since her mom's death, hadn't helped her really experience any romantic or even much friendly interaction with males her age. Harlequin romance novels, John Hughes movies, and her mother's battered copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves served largely as her knowledge base, and somehow, none of that helped her now.
She was simply staggered by him. He was without a doubt gorgeous. His tousled blonde hair was getting a little shaggy, framing a face that was defined by a strong jaw and eyes she was a little afraid that she could get lost in. When he looked at her, she felt the same pull she had felt with him earlier, and still was unable to understand how it was possible for it to feel like he knew her.
He hadn't let go of her hand, and inexplicably, she didn't want to let go of his. His hand was warm and she liked the fact that it was bigger than hers. It made her feel safe, even though she couldn't understand why. The light stroke of his thumb over her fingers made her stomach flip-flop. She chided herself over becoming so worked up over such a small act. Told herself that even though he was battered and broken, he was just being nice to her, that it didn't mean anything. The whole thing left her unsettled, and though it was the last thing she really wanted to do, she pulled her hand from his.
His face went still as she moved back from him, his eyes not leaving hers, until she looked away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze any longer. She hated the thought that somehow, as ridiculous as it probably was, she might have disappointed him.
Nervously, she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and met his eyes again. He gave her another long look before giving her a half smile.
"So, you're new?" he asked.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Trust me, babe. If I had seen you before, I would have your number already."
His bold honestly made her smile, "you think?"
"Definitely," he said, this time giving her a bigger smile as he used their banter from earlier.
His boldness made her bold as well, "What makes you think that I'd give it to you?"
His smile turned cocky and his eyes lit, "Cause I'm that good."
"You don't look good. You got hoodlum written all over you."
He started to laugh, a warm and rich sound that made her forget that they were both bleeding, sitting in her crashed car, surrounded by glass. She wanted to hear him laugh again.
"Hoodlum?" He asked incrediously, "Who says hoodlum?"
"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it."
"So you're telling me that you judge a book by its cover? For all you know I could be a choirboy."
They didn't make choirboys that looked like him, of that she was sure. "I hang out a lot in libraries."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said before a low rumble in the distance caught his attention. He hissed out a breath as he shifted to get a better look at who was coming. She looked down at his arm. It was getting visibly worse, but he hadn't really complained. The rumbles grew louder and she tried to swallow back the anxiety that she was starting to feel about what would be happening next. She had never been in an accident before, and she supposed she would have to make at the very least a police report.
"It looks like your friend sent the cavalry," she said, gesturing with a nod towards the men coming up fast on gleaming black motorcycles.
"Yeah, that's one way of putting it." Jax shook his head and gave them a warm look before looking back at her and giving her a tired smirk. He had to be in so much pain, she thought. Blood seeped though in spots on his jeans, and his wrist looked even more swollen before. She wished she could take the pain away from him.
The noise from the bikes grew louder and she looked out to see the four men pulling up and stopping. She saw that a tow truck was on its way as well. Opie hadn't returned with them she noticed as she watched as they swung legs over their bikes and dismounted. A steel-eyed man with a crew cut unclipped his helmet and tossed it on his bike before moving quickly towards them. His face was angular, his eyes covered by mirrored sunglasses, his mouth hard and set. The man wore a black t-shirt and black leather vest stretched over hard muscle.
The other men also took off helmets and moved to keep up with the first man, flanking him on each side. They too wore vests, one leather the other denim. The one in leather had long dark curly hair pulled back, he was bushy bearded and extremely broad. The other was older, and certainly taller, she watched as he threw away the butt of a cigar as they approached the wreck that was the Cutlass.
The steel-eyed man had pulled off his sunglasses as he strode over quickly to the passenger side and opened the door. His eyes looked concerned as he leaned in and looked at Jax, taking in the blood and broken arm. Tara imagined that he was used to giving orders, and that was probably why he had a patch that read "President" on his vest. There were other patches as well that labeled him as part of the Sons of Anarchy, Redwood Originals.
Tara had lived in Charming for only a few weeks, but she would have been blind not to notice that the town had a large number of people associated with the group called often by the their initials- SAMCRO. The bikers often race up the main street with their grim reaper patches on the backs of their vests. She had overheard whispers by some women wearing too tight shirts and sporting black crow tattoos while she was in the grocery store the previous week about how SAMCRO was more in charge of Charming than the actual city leaders.
"You okay son?" The man asked in a tone that came out in a low grumble, his face softening only slightly as he spoke.
Jax visibly stiffened but gave him a nod, and meeting the older man's gaze dead on, "yeah," he said, "damn deer ran out in front of us. I had to cut in front of Tara and then ditch the bike."
"You look like shit," the man said bluntly.
"Feel like it," Jax replied back in a tone that matched the man's, and then in different tone all together, "My mom know?"
"She was running an errand for the shop, I say you got roughly five more minutes before she finds out from Opie."
"Jesus Christ," Jax swore and then closed his eyes briefly as if in prayer.
The man nodded once and gave Jax a pitying look before he turned his face up to look beyond Jax to her, "What about you, little girl?"
He made her nervous, but she held herself together, answering calmly, "I think I'm okay, just a banged up some, but Jax needs to go to the hospital."
Jax opened his eyes and turned his attention to her and she caught something move across his face. She realized that it was the first time she had said his name. She hoped she had gotten it right. "Tara needs to go too, Clay," he said without hesitation, "She got her head knocked pretty good."
Clay nodded, "We'll get you both to St. Thomas. The cops should beat your mom here. We gotta make a report for the insurance."
"It was my fault Clay," Jax said seriously, "I'm responsible."
Something crossed between them, and Clay nodded again before pulling back and standing up to bark orders at the other men.
"Thank you," Tara whispered, reaching out to touch his good arm.
"Well, it's the truth," he gave her a half smile that she found herself returning, "You wanna get out here?"
"I think so," she said, pulling back, and getting out of the car. Her head throbbed as she started to make her way around the car meeting Jax as he climbed out as well with a grimace.
"You probably need an ambulance."
"Nah, I've had worse on the dirt bike before."
Without thinking, she moved to his side and wrapped her arm around his waist to help him move away from the car. Jax pulled his good arm around her accepting her help. She tried to focus on getting him towards the other bikers and less on the fact that he smelled so good it made her mouth water.
Slowly, they made their way to the tow truck, listening to the razzing Jax was getting from the other men. He took it good naturedly, and she imagined since their teasing was good natured rather than nasty, it was the norm for them. Jax introduced them to her as Piney and Bobby.
"Yeah, yeah," Jax said to them as leaned a little more heavily on Tara. She had no idea how he was even on his feet.
"Less than six months on that bike, and now look at you. That's pathetic kid," growled Piney with a shake of his head before he went to go take a closer look at the Cutlass.
"No, what will be pathetic will be what's left of him after Gemma's done with him," Bobby said with a grin. Tara caught a grimace from Jax again that she wasn't entirely sure was from his injuries. She was about to ask him if he needed to sit down again, when the sounds of car and another bike approaching fast caught her attention. She recognized Opie right away, but it was the sports car, silver and lethal looking that had her eyes widening as it ate up the road and when it was close enough came to a screaming to a stop. Gravel was still flying as a woman with dark hair and a darker expression through open the door and started racing towards them on impressively high-heeled boots, her eyes focused solely on Jax.
"Are you out of your god damned mind, Jackson? What the hell were you thinking?" the woman yelled as she approached. The men gave her a wide berth, and Tara suddenly wished that Jax wasn't holding on to her quite so tight. The woman's face was fierce, but as she came closer, Tara could see the worry that was just under the surface. The woman reached out and took Jax's face in her hands, her expression relaxing to something almost gentle, "You look like shit."
Jax grinned, "So I hear."
"Don't do this again."
"Yes, ma'am."
She let go of his face and stepped back to take in the entire scene before focusing on Tara who suddenly felt like she was not only judged but being found lacking as she was looked up and down.
"Who's this?" She asked, gesturing to Tara.
"This is Tara. Tara, meet my mother, Gemma Teller."
