Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.
Sitting at her desk in T-M's office, Gemma ran her French-manicured fingers through her platinum-streaked head of dark brown hair as she puffed on a cigarette. Feeling a headache coming on, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to gather her thoughts for the conversation she had finally let Clay convince her she needed to have with her son. It was quickly approaching noon and her intention had been to catch up with Jax in his dorm as soon as she had arrived in the morning, but was swamped with work the minute she had stepped into the office.
The paperwork she was now shuffling through, although important, could wait, but Gemma now found that she was in no hurry to eat crow in order to kiss and make up with Jax. Why couldn't her pig-headed son understand that all she was really guilty of was worrying too much about his and Abel's well-being? Flipping through the stack of repo orders that had just come in by fax, Gemma took one last puff of her smoke and angrily ground it out in the ashtray by the computer keyboard. Jax had pointedly missed Sunday dinner this week and Gemma's heart clenched in her chest at the thought that his empty seat at her table would become the norm if she didn't find a way to make amends, wrong or right.
Dropping the repo orders into the overflowing inbox to be dealt with later, Gemma pushed her chair away from the desk and stood up. She could see Jax through the open blinds of the windows by the door leading into the garage from the office. With her arms crossed over the front of the snug white button-down shirt she wore with a black, fringed suede vest, dark wash skinny jeans and knee-high stiletto lace up boots, Gemma watched her son as he worked on an engine block from a Toyota Camry.
The Queen of Charming was not exactly known for being a humble or meek old lady. As the doctor bitch had so bluntly stated to her very face, Gemma knew that she could practically do or say anything in Charming and get away with it.
And there's no fuckin' shame in that, Gemma thought with a hint of pride. After all, I've paid my dues too and have earned that shit.
But even though being the Queen of Charming had its privileges, apparently she couldn't say or do anything and expect to get away with it when it came to Jax. The thought of facing her pissed off son and asking for his forgiveness was daunting. The very real fear that her only surviving son wouldn't forgive her and in fact hated her twisted her gut until she felt on the verge of throwing up. No one mattered to her like Jax did. No one. Clay may have his own agenda in wanting her to make nice with Jax, but Gemma had her own as well. She couldn't run the risk of losing the only thing she had left in this world that she loved above all else.
Even though it didn't help her queasy stomach that they would have an audience of mechanics and other Club members witnessing her comeuppance, Gemma needed to make things right with Jax and she needed to do it now. With Jax refusing to let himself get pulled into her orbit, going so far as avoiding his own home whenever she dropped by for a visit with her grandson, there was no way she'd ever get to do it privately. Gemma had no choice in the matter other than to beard the lion in his den, the only place he would tolerate her—the T-M lot.
Steeling herself for her son's possible rejection, Gemma opened the door and entered the garage. She was quickly greeted warmly by several of the mechanics, prompting Jax to look up from his work. With his brow furrowed into what she knew was a petulant scowl, Jax turned his back and continued working.
Yeah, of course the little shithead's not gonna make this any easier for me, Gemma thought as she swallowed the lump in her throat.
Approaching the engine block, Gemma had to fight with herself to keep from nervously twisting the rings on her fingers, knowing that all eyes—except for one piercing blue pair—were focused on her.
"Hey, Jackson," Gemma started, speaking to the back of her son's blond head. She could see his shoulders instantly tense underneath his T-M work shirt at the sound of her voice, but he made no move to acknowledge her presence. "Jax, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"I'm busy." Came his gruff reply, his right hand working a socket wrench furiously.
"All I need is a minute, baby—"
Heaving a frustrated sigh, Jax dropped the wrench onto the oil-stained concrete floor of the bay he was working in. "What, Ma?" He asked annoyed as he turned to look directly into his mother's eyes.
It was a good thing she had decided to wear her beloved boots with the four inch heels. Otherwise, she would find herself staring up and into that icy glare he had perfected on her throughout the years. Even though today was the first time he had parted his lips to speak to her since kicking her out of his house nearly a week ago, she was still his mother, damn it, and Gemma didn't appreciate the attitude.
"Are you gonna keep being an asshole about this?" Gemma winced as her snarky side came out.
Great way to start off an apology, bitch!
"And I don't have the right to be?" The SAMCRO VP folded his arms across his broad chest.
Gemma's eyes bounced around the wall behind Jax, avoiding the hurt look in his, before begrudgingly looking at him straight on. "I guess you do."
Her candid and unexpected reply nearly knocked him off his feet.
The fact was that Jax still seethed with anger every time he thought about his last confrontation with his mother. His refusal to give her the time of day was the least deadliest thing he could think of doing to her. What he had wanted to do was throttle her within an inch of her life for thinking he would betray his best friend since the cradle by fucking his old lady while Ope was in prison. To think that his own mother thought he was capable of hurting someone he loved that way had nearly destroyed him.
The only thing worse was not knowing for sure if his best friend had heard the rumors. And if he had, did he believe Jax capable of such vile shit, too? For the next week, Jax examined and re-examined every conversation he had had with Opie during the two months between his parole from Chino and his death. Jax obsessed over every word they had spoken, looking for clues that Opie believed that Jax had exercised the prison clause with his wife, the mother of his children.
His agony was only further compounded when Jax forced himself to recognize that five years ago, on some deep, dark level, he had wanted Donna. In his mind, this made him just as guilty of betrayal as if he had actually slept with her. With this new knowledge burning a hole in his gut, facing Donna and the kids for their ritual Saturday breakfast made him feel like a cheat and a fraud. As difficult as that had been, however, the thought of disappointing Donna to the point where she would have shanked him for sure the next time she saw him forced Jax to keep his promise to her.
It finally dawned on Jax that he and Donna being the choicest piece of gossip on the Club's rumor mill went a long way in explaining why she had pulled away from him during the last couple of years of Opie's time in Chino. At the time, Jax had been hurt and couldn't understand why Donna had backed away from him and shut him out of her life after he had been there for her, but now it made perfect sense. Knowing Donna, who had never been interested in finding a place for herself in the Clubhouse, she had probably pushed him away to protect Jax and his friendship with Opie. Donna was probably the only true friend Jax had left.
And what the fuck did I do to thank her? I jump her ass in her own home barely five months after her husband was put into the fuckin' ground.
Already serving as his own whipping boy—and fucking tired of it—Jax had directed his rage and anger at the next available target, the one person, aside from Opie, he believed would always have his back. Jax was more than disappointed in learning that Gemma knew about the rumors five years ago and never told him until now, especially since she couldn't seem to keep herself from getting involved his life 24/7. It hurt him in a place Jax thought he had learned to protect from the women in his life during the last eleven years: his heart.
Apparently, however, Gemma had grown weary of being his punching bag and was now prepared to force a reconciliation by apologizing.
Doesn't mean I have to make it easy for her.
"Do you have any idea what this shit has done to my fuckin' head?" Jax asked resentfully.
"I can imagine, baby, and I'm sorry for my part in it. My intention was never to hurt you with this shit. I wanted to protect you."
Jax chuckled bitterly. "Really? You kinda fell down on the job there, Ma. I mean, if you believed the rumors, why didn't you come to me and try shaking some sense into me? You knew how much Ope loved Donna. It's a miracle he didn't kill me for shit I didn't even do."
Gemma put a hand on his shoulder. "Jax, I think the fact that we're standing here having this conversation should be proof enough that Ope didn't know. And even if he had, Opie loved you and trusted you with his life. He knew you would no more press up on Donna than he would have pressed up on Wendy." She reached out to cup one cheek with a hand, using the other to tuck his hair behind his ear. "And as your mother, I should have known it, too. You may be a pussy magnet, but you're too loyal of a man to do that kind of shit. I am so sorry I allowed myself to believe otherwise."
Looking into her dark brown eyes, Jax could see that his mother was truly remorseful. Pulling her to him, he wrapped her in a bear hug, only pushing away enough to kiss the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, too. Shit, Ma. Sometimes I don't know what the fuck to do with you."
"There's not much you can do, you little shithead." Gemma murmured, trying to stop her eyes from leaking tears. "You're stuck with me, so you better get used to it." She pulled away and swatted at Jax's head as he playfully rolled his eyes. "I'll see you later?"
Jax flashed his mother the patented Teller smile. "You bet."
The day had started out mild, which was unusual this early in the season for Northern California. As the morning turned into early afternoon, the temperature rose considerably with the sun blazing high in a picture perfect sky. Gemma could see the heat rising from the blacktop of the garage's parking lot as she leaned against the open doorway leading into the office in hopes of cooling off. Whatever breeze had been blowing earlier, however, had gone from cool and comforting to hot and sticky around noon. Deciding she needed to get away from the stifling heat in the office for a little while, Gemma called on Chibs to take over for her and headed for her car.
At first, Gemma contemplated treating herself to a mani-pedi, just in case the warm weather decided to stick around and she needed to break out her collection of strappy, high-heeled sandals. Not in the mood for the mindless chatter of the stay-at-home moms that flooded the nail salon at this hour before the kiddies got out from school, Gemma decided against it.
What she desperately needed, aside from some fresh air, was a sounding board for all the shit she wanted to get straight in her head. Even though she had managed to placate her son and they had kissed and made up, Gemma still found herself wrapped up in the need to make some sense of Jax's personal life for him as it became clear to her that the young biker was hell bent on repeating the same mistakes again.
Not being able to reach Jax on his prepay, Tara had called T-M's offices that morning looking for him. Not having laid eyes on the doctor bitch since Abel's homecoming, Gemma had hoped that the woman had finally fallen off her son's radar. If that had been the case, however, it seemed like Tara Knowles was working hard to get herself back on. Gemma smirked to herself as the good doctor explained she was having car troubles again and was hoping Jax could help her out.
The old damsel-in-distress routine had proven a sure-fire winner for Tara in the past, but unfortunately, she was shit out of luck today. Gemma had taken great pleasure in letting her know that Jax was out of town on business and not expected back any time soon. Instead of asking if there was another mechanic available that could help her out, Tara had hung up with a barely audible good-bye.
That bitch is so full of shit, Gemma thought as she hung up the phone. And so desperately phony it's almost pathetic.
Picking up the phone again, Gemma had called Luann and, on a whim, asked her out to lunch. Big Otto's old lady was in the middle of editing another one of her "masterpieces" and declined, but invited her over to Cara Cara so they could catch up while she worked. Clay gave Gemma a wide berth to function as she saw fit, especially when it came to maintaining her relationships with other old ladies. That being said, he did draw the line at Gemma hanging out at the "cum-factory", as he so eloquently called Luann's studio. So it was a good thing that not only was Jax out of town attending to business, but so was Clay.
What her old man didn't know wouldn't hurt her and that's how Gemma found herself sitting in the cutting room at Cara Cara Productions with Luann and her film editor. As Luann worked to slice and splice what looked to be a porn parody of "Mad Men", Gemma rattled on and on for the next half hour about her son Jackson and how she nearly destroyed their relationship by jumping to conclusions about his relationship with Donna Winston.
"I can't really say I blame him for being upset with you." Luann stated as she tapped the shoulder of her editor with a barefoot sporting pink glitter polish to get his attention, shaking her head at the images on the large computer screen. "You just need to leave that shit alone."
"Well, fuck you very much, Luann." Gemma said angrily. "And for the record, I will not leave shit alone, so you need to be my friend and help me figure this out."
"I am being your friend, sweetie. You barely got your ass out of the fire with Jax this time around. You're good now and he even came over for Sunday dinner," Luann advised as if this would be news to Gemma. "You should be happy about that."
"Of course I am," Gemma groused, barely cutting herself short from calling Luann an idiot. "And it's not Sunday dinner that concerns me. It's what he's doing with his Saturday mornings that's the problem." She stated. Leaning back in her chair, Gemma lit a joint.
"Bikers will be bikers, Gem." Luann replied, thinking that Gemma meant something related to recovering from a hangover. "Most of them are barely functional the day after their Friday night debauchery. It's what they all do."
"Oh, really?" Gemma started as she passed the joint to Luann and folded her arms across her chest. "So you mean to tell me the entire Club gathers at Donna Winston's house for Saturday morning breakfast, too?" She asked sarcastically.
Luann's wide blue eyes tripled in size as she nearly choked on her toke. Smacking her editor with her foot again, she motioned for him to pause what he was doing. "What are you saying, Gemma? Is he really fucking the Widow Winston?" She turned to look at Gemma.
Gemma quickly sat up in her seat and angrily wagged her ringed-index finger in front of Luann's face. "Don't you—shit, Luann! Get that thought out of your fuckin' head!" She demanded. The last thing she needed was for more rumors that could be linked back to her getting to her son. It had barely been three days since she had finally made it back into Jax's good graces. "That's not what I meant, so don't go spreading that shit around."
"Okay, okay," Luann threw her hands up in surrender. "But the only time I've ever made a man breakfast is after a really good pounding the night before, so you need to explain yourself." She waved at her editor to keep going as she took several quick puffs and handed the joint back to Gemma.
Grimacing at the action on the screen as a baby-faced blonde woman smacked the bare ass of a half-naked businessman with a shoe while swilling from a bottle of vodka, Gemma tried to get her mind back on what was important.
Sitting back in her chair, she let out a heavy sigh. "He wants to be there for Opie's kids. He promised them that he would be a part of their lives, so on Saturday mornings, before heading out on Club business, he heads over to the Winstons' for breakfast with them."
"Those poor kids," Luann shook her head sympathetically, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Growing up without a father. I can see why Jax would do something like that."
"He loved Ope." Gemma agreed.
"Yeah, he did, but he knows what it's like to lose a dad, too."
"Maybe, but he had Clay."
"Yeah, and maybe that's why he's doing this for Donna's kids. Having a male presence in their lives makes all the difference in the world to a child. I think it's great what Jax is doing."
"You would." Gemma rolled her eyes sarcastically.
"And why are you so upset? You raised your son well, Gem. He has a good heart."
Gemma bore holes into the back of Luann's head with her mighty death glare. "I can't believe you can be so naïve and still run a successful porn business." She replied incredulously. "My Jax does have a good heart, especially when it comes to Ope's kids, but he's still a pussy-loving man, Luann. How long you think before he starts tapping Donna, for real this time?"
"Good for her!" Luann exclaimed as Gemma huffed, smirking as she shook her head. She should have known better than to discuss the Donna situation with the sex-loving Porn Queen, who would inevitably support the notion of somebody—anybody—getting some one way or another. "And good for him, too." She added.
"What?!" Gemma nearly fell out of her chair. "In what universe is the idea of the SAMCRO VP hooking up with Donna Winston, the widow of his best friend, a good thing?"
"In this one, sweetheart," Luann looked over her shoulder to flash Gemma a cheeky smile. "The SAMCRO universe. It seems to have worked out just fine for you and Clay—" She trailed off in a sing-song voice.
Gemma narrowed her eyes at Luann. "You fuckin' bitch." She growled. Still scowling at the younger woman, Gemma took another hit off her joint as Luann giggled uproariously. "We're not talking about me here, so focus. Jax is in a very vulnerable place right now. It's bad enough he has the doctor bitch chasing him down. Him harboring feelings for Donna out of some twisted sense of obligation is not a good thing. I need to pin him down, get him to fix shit with Wendy before she decides to bolt."
Luann ran her hand through her blonde-streaked extensions. "Well, if you ask me—"
"I don't recall asking you." Gemma retorted petulantly.
"Then why is your pretty little ass sitting in my chair, bitch?" Luann asked with a saccharine smile. Gemma huffed, but remained silent and Luann took that as consent to continue. "If you ask me, both of those chicken heads running after Jax are bad news. While in your opinion Donna may not be the obvious choice for Jax, she sure as shit is better than an ex-junky-slash-almost baby killer or some snooty doctor who didn't have the stones to stick with Jax their first time around."
"Are you fuckin' serious?"
"Just look at the facts, Gem." Luann prodded. "You just can't see it because you're too close to the situation, but you and Donna Winston are cut from the same cloth."
Gemma put her hand on her hip. "Luann Delaney, you must be hitting something way stronger than my weed. Are you coking up again?"
Now it was Luann's turn to glare at Gemma. "You know I've been clean ever since me and Otto hooked up, so don't be such a bitch because you're mad that I'm right."
While Gemma and Luann hung out together, they weren't what Gemma would call "best friends". Gemma's mother had pretty much ruined her when it came to developing close female friendships, but they were close. With Luann, at least Gemma knew she could always count on getting it straight, no sugarcoating, no bullshit. Luann was the only old lady not afraid to tell Gemma what was on her mind right to her face. Although Gemma sometimes wanted to smack her around—like now—that was one trait she did admire in people. Clay would say that Luann had been fucked stupid during her porn actress days and didn't know any better, but Gemma knew otherwise, believing it was wise to keep Luann on her good side.
"I get how you would think she's not old lady material. Even after all these years married to an outlaw, Donna's still a little too middle class, but that's where the differences between the two of you end." Luann continued. "She knows what it's like to lose a husband, first to prison and then to a bullet, yet she didn't crumble under the weight of all that. She's a great mom to her kids, which means she'd prolly make a better mom for Abel than his own. She waited around for Opie to get out of Chino all those years and the only man anyone ever saw her with was his best friend, his brother Jax and we now know that nothing happened between them. She was loyal to her old man so you know she must have loved Opie to death. Some bikers can't trust that their old ladies won't dip out on them when they're on a fuckin' run. And she's already been exposed to the Life, but never let herself be intimidated by the Club, the Feds or you. She never ran off on Opie when shit got real and she didn't cope with the Life by becoming some meth junky. The girl's got serious stones. Those are all Gemma traits right there."
Gemma bristled hearing Luann acknowledge that she knew Donna Winston was the one old lady she had failed to intimidate.
"Look, you know me, sweetie." Luann continued. "Ever since Otto went inside, I don't get mixed up in Club shit anymore. I just don't have the heart, the time or the interest, but Jax is gonna need a strong old lady supporting him when he takes over the gavel and I can tell you this, neither of them chicks pulling on him now are it. Seems to me that you need to rethink your strategy, pick a horse of a different color and back yourself a real winner."
Turning her attention back to her editor, Luann suddenly screeched. "No, no, no, dipshit! Zoom in on his fuckin' crotch, will ya? You're missing the money shot here."
As the producer and her editor continued to argue the merits of a crotch shot verses focusing on the actor's "O" face, Gemma paid little attention as she chewed over what Luann had to say. On some level, Gemma had to admit that the crazy bitch had made some valid points, at least when it came to both Tara and Wendy. Neither woman was proper old lady material.
But Donna? Really?
The young woman had made it quite clear over the years that she had no interest in the Club that her husband had dedicated his life to. As a result, Donna existed outside Gemma's sphere of influence, something that had disgruntled the Queen of Charming on a number of occasions.
It was obvious that the young widow was strong-willed and determined, but could she really handle being in a relationship with another outlaw and all that entailed? Remembering Jax's visceral reaction to her accusations regarding his relationship with Donna, Gemma couldn't help but wonder if there was something going on between the two of them already.
And if that's the case, would that really be such a bad thing? Gemma mused.
With Donna in a relationship with her son, it might prove easier for Gemma to bring the young woman into her orbit. It was just a fact of life that anyone woman that hooked up with Jax and took on the responsibility of raising his son had no choice but to toe the line with Gemma. There sure as hell was no room for another coward like Tara or a junky like Wendy in Jax's life, not when Gemma had every intention of seeing her son sitting at the head of the table once Clay stepped down. And Luann was certainly right about one thing. Once Jax assumed the presidency, he was going to need a strong old lady behind him.
Having resolved to give Luann's glowing recommendation of Donna Winston serious consideration, Gemma realized she would have to tread carefully with Jax going forward. Switching her support from Wendy to Donna this late in the race had the potential of blowing back on her and hard. The next time that happened, she wasn't sure if the infinite amount of love she had for her son would be enough to smooth things over with him. Again.
Listening to the soft rock pumping out of her speakers, Gemma was in deep thought as she made her way to the lot after getting her nails done in Lodi. It was a beautiful afternoon and with her windows rolled down, she was enjoying the scent of freshly cut grass. It had been a couple of days since her visit with Luann at Cara Cara and Gemma didn't think she'd ever get the smells of the cum factory out of her nostrils.
Gemma had spent many hours since her conversation with Luann dissecting everything the Porn Queen had said. She had made a solid case for the Winston Widow as a logical choice for Jax, but Gemma was no closer to figuring out how to go about sticking her nose in her son's business. Now that she was back in Jax's good graces, Gemma knew she needed to tread carefully. It was obvious that Jax would not tolerate anymore of her interference in what he deemed his personal business.
However, all such thoughts fled her mind entirely when she spotted the Winston family walking through the parking lot of the local supermarket with a cart of groceries. Realizing that her calling in life was to be a fierce mother, Gemma could not let this tailor-made opportunity to feel Donna out—hopefully, without making Jax any wiser—slip by. Quickly pulling into the lot, Gemma parked her Cadillac in an open space near to Donna's small sedan. Exiting her Caddy, Gemma headed towards the younger woman, who was already busy packing the groceries into the trunk.
"All right, you lil' boogers," Donna said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You can argue about what movie to watch once we get home. Finish loading the bags and get your butts in the car."
As her bickering son and daughter complied with her commands, Donna rolled her eyes at the pair of them. Ordering them to buckle their seatbelts as they climbed into the backseat, she was about to get into the driver's side when she heard the click-clacking of high heels behind her. Turning around, she tried to hide a grimace as she saw Gemma Teller-Morrow bearing down on her. She could already tell by the woman's attitude that she was in a snit about something.
I have a feeling that this is going to turn into some shit that I really don't need right now.
After a particularly hectic day working at Oswald Construction, the last thing Donna was expecting was Gemma drama after her supervisor had cut her loose a couple of hours early. Deciding to help her mother out, Donna had picked her kids up from school, giving Kenny, Ellie, and their grandma a much needed break from each other. Thinking that it was the perfect time to get her food shopping out of the way, Donna was looking forward to getting home and having a nice quiet evening with her kids. She hoped that meeting up with the Queen of Charming wouldn't spoil that, but she knew better.
Donna hadn't seen Gemma since Abel's party, so she couldn't think what she could have done to get the SAMCRO matriarch bent out of shape, but it looked like she was going to find out. Taking the bull by the horns, she decided to open the conversation first.
"Hi, Gem. Nice to see you." She lied. "Doing a little shopping?"
Gemma eyed the petite brunette and noted the flip attitude. She could already see Donna's guard was up. She didn't like that. "Yeah, just a few items. And you?"
"Just finished the weekly shopping with the kids."
The Queen took a moment to wave hello at Kenny and Ellie before continuing. "It was nice seeing you and the kids at Abel's party."
"We were glad to be there and show Jax our support." Donna replied.
It was the perfect opening. "My son has the makings of a great father, wouldn't you say?"
Donna raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I would," She agreed cautiously. "But I guess that's something I've always known. My kids just love him, think he's the best thing since video games."
"And what about you?" Gemma asked archly. "I'm sure you have some appreciation for my son's talents."
Against her will, Donna's mind quickly lighted on the memory of Jax's kiss, which had left her breathless and aching with need. She tried to keep her face passive as her gut twisted at the thought of the blond biker's lips and hands on her, but seeing the calculating gleam in Gemma's eyes, Donna mentally chastised herself for letting Gemma catch her off guard.
Donna's back stiffened with tension. "I've always appreciated Jax. He's been a friend of the family for a very long time." She crossed her arms under her chest and eyed the SAMCRO matriarch, deciding to cut to the chase. "Where are you going with this, Gemma?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Gemma asked a little demurely. "I'm just making polite conversation. Besides, you and Jackson seemed to be getting along extremely well at Abel's party. You two looked really cozy in each other's company. I mean, I saw you holding my grandson," Gemma continued, taking note of Donna's suddenly pink cheeks. "And Abel looked quite at home in your arms."
"Abel's a beautiful and sweet baby." Donna replied evenly. "Wendy must be very proud to be his mother."
"Wendy?" Gemma smirked. "She's a part of his life, for now, but she's definitely not mother material."
Donna cocked her head to the side, her arms folded tightly underneath her chest. "Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to tell me something?"
Wondering if she should put all of her cards on the table, Gemma placed a hand on her cocked hip. "Probably because you're a smart chick. You know that Jax and Abel are the two most important people in my life and I think that it would be obvious that as such, I would want them to have the best family possible. A loving mother for Abel and a strong old lady for my son."
"Neither of which has anything to do with me." Donna denied just a tad too fast, Gemma noted with a smirk.
"Well, I wouldn't say that," She smiled. "I mean, I'm sure you realize that Jax and Abel would make a pretty great package deal and it's not like you and Jax haven't had experience playing house—"
The SAMCRO Queen was not prepared for the lethal glare that was aimed up at her. "Excuse me, but you have some nerve insinuating that Jax has been anything but above board with me. I don't know what your game is, Gemma, but you have made a serious error in judgment if you're feeling the need to chase me away from Jax." Donna said ominously.
"Now just hold on for a damn minute," Gemma started, trying to placate the suddenly-riled up pixie. "You are clearly misunderstanding where I'm coming from—"
"No, you see, I don't think I am. I know exactly where you're coming from, Gemma and I don't like it." Donna replied indignantly. "Whatever 'relationship' I have with Jax is none of your business! Jax and I have been friends since I started dating Opie back in high school and he's been a part of my kids' lives since before they were even born. When Ope was in Chino, Jax was the only one of his brothers that cared enough to look after his kids. I don't know what rumors you've heard to the contrary," Her voice grew steadily louder the angrier she became. "But Jax was nothing if not a gentleman and a good friend to me during a difficult time and I will always love him for that, so I sincerely hope that you are not trying to stir shit up by insinuating otherwise. I am not some faithless MC whore that would exercise the 'prison clause' while her husband was serving time because of some misguided loyalty to a Club that turned their backs on his family!"
Donna was so livid, she felt herself get light-headed as she started to see red. Although her feelings towards Jax had become somewhat complicated in recent weeks, she would be damned before she let Gemma know that. So imagine her surprise when Gemma finally managed to get a word in edgewise.
"I know all of that, Donna." Gemma replied evenly. "I also know that my son is being pulled in a dozen different directions—"
"And you are the worst offender by far." Donna interrupted. "Jax is a grown man and he doesn't need you interfering in his personal life."
"Okay, just stop right there before you finally say something that really pisses me off." Gemma retorted. Shaking her head, she was starting to agree with Clay that maybe Luann had fucked her brains out.
How is this stubborn, argumentative, opinionated and pig-headed woman anything like me, Gemma thought without irony. Looking into Donna's defiant blue-green eyes, Gemma came to the realization that she was exactly what Jackson needed in a woman. Someone smart, loyal and unafraid to verbally slap some sense into him.
"All I'm saying is that Jax is being pulled in so many different directions that he gets distracted sometimes. In the Life, distraction could get him killed. After listening to you just now, I gather that's something you wouldn't want to see happen to him, right?"
Donna put her hands on her hips. "That is the most insensitive bull—"
Gemma put her hand up. "I'm gonna take that as a 'no' because I know you care about my son. I'm not gonna lie to you, Donna. I hated the thought of you and Jax together—"
Donna smirked. "Oh, but you've had a change of heart?" She asked sarcastically.
"I have," Gemma replied, shocking Donna into a stunned silence. Finally, Gemma thought. Maybe now I can get out what I've been wanting to say. "I can tell when Jax has been around you and the kids. He's less distracted, happy even."
Donna quickly shook her head, as if trying to dislodge something that was keeping her from hearing correctly. "What are you saying, Gemma?"
"I don't know what it is about you, Donna. You're very pretty and all, but there's just something about you that grounds Jackson. He's loyal to a fault and I'm sure in a loving and committed relationship, he'd keep it in his pants and under reserve just for you. I think you two would be good for each other and maybe you should keep your mind open to being something more than just friends."
Gobsmacked.
Donna had never really had an occasion to use the word, didn't know what it meant really, but that's how she felt at the moment: completely and utterly gobsmacked.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Donna slowly gathered her thoughts. No sense in making herself into more of a spectacle in front of her kids than she already had. She had never let her own parents call the shots in her relationship with Opie and she sure as hell wasn't going to allow Mother Gemma to manipulate any relationship she had with Jax, as friends or otherwise.
Ignoring her wide-eyed children, who now had their faces pressed up against the closed car window, Donna leaned in towards Gemma and in a quietly menacing growl gave it straight to the Queen of Charming. "Not that it concerns you, but Jax and I ARE just friends." She emphasized. "But if I wanted Jax, there's only one person that could stop me from having him and that would be Jax himself. You may think you run shit in this town, but you don't control your son and he doesn't need you picking his women out for him. As for me, I'm not under your jurisdiction either, so you need to stay the hell out of my damn business."
Gemma arched one eyebrow as she crossed her arms. "Oh, okay. I hear ya, baby girl." She said gently, as if talking to a mental patient. "Well, enjoy the rest of your day." Forgetting about the so-called shopping she had to do, Gemma turned to walk back to her car, but stopped. "Oh, and just think about what I said. After all, there's no harm in considering that I might be right."
"What the fuck was that?" Donna sputtered under her breath as Gemma climbed behind the wheel of her Caddy and sedately pulled out of the parking lot.
No harm in Gemma being right? Really?! Donna felt like she had just stepped through a wormhole and ended up in an alternate universe.
"Mommy!" Donna snapped her head towards the car window, momentarily having forgotten about her children. "Can we go now? I'm hungry." Kenny whined.
Running her hand through her loose dark hair, Donna shook her head as she got into her car, still thoroughly confused and slightly pissed off, and drove off the lot, heading home.
So deeply engrossed in their battle of wills, neither Gemma nor Donna had noticed Tara Knowles standing at the entrance of the supermarket. With several shopping bags in hand, Tara had stopped dead in her tracks, unable—or unwilling—to process all that she had overheard.
Dr. Tara Knowles didn't care too much for the food served at the hospital cafeteria. Although it cut substantially into her break time, she much preferred waiting on the long line in Nikki's Corner Café over eating the slop that passed as sustenance at St. Thomas. Waiting patiently for her turn to order lunch, Tara occupied her mind by mulling over the argument she witnessed the day before between Gemma Teller and Donna Winston.
The last thing Tara had expected after working a double shift at the hospital was bearing witness to what was undoubtedly a battle of wills between the two women. Tara didn't care to keep up with the goings-on of her hometown, especially during her self-imposed eleven-year exile, but she could have sworn that, as Opie Winston's old lady, Donna would be more inclined to kiss Gemma's ass instead of taking a huge chunk out of it.
At least I now know that I'm not the only woman whose life Gemma Teller-Morrow enjoys making miserable.
Ever since Tara's return to Charming, the Queen of Bikers was determined—and so far had succeeded—in keeping Tara at arm's length from her son, out of fear, no doubt, that a chance existed of them restarting their relationship. Getting involved with Jax Teller again had been the last thing on Tara's mind when she had moved back to Charming. There were just too many bad memories attached to the three years they had spent together, but she had to admit that a lot of her old feelings for the biker had awakened after she had volunteered to assist Dr. Namid with Abel's case.
Those feelings had only intensified, becoming even more complicated with Joshua Kohn's arrival in Charming. Jax had run interference and protected her from her ex-boyfriend-turned-stalker, eventually running him out of town. The fact that he still cared enough to do that for her had reminded Tara what it had felt like to be kept safe, protected and loved by the outlaw in the past. Back then, Jax would have killed for her if she had let him. The only danger she had faced back then had been her drunk of a father and, even though she had despised the man, Tara could never bring herself to let Jax do it, no matter how bad the beatings got.
Now with Joshua out of the picture, there was nothing to prevent Tara from returning to her old life back in Illinois. Her career had been on the fast track at Chicago Presbyterian and with Joshua now facing prison time after losing his job with the ATF, it was quite possible for her to leave Charming and start over. There was only one thing stopping her.
Jackson Teller.
After overhearing the intense conversation between Gemma and Donna, however, it appeared that there was a third woman in the running for the biker's affections. Not only did it appear that Jax and Donna were already close, but it seemed that Gemma was willing to consider the young widow as a suitable replacement for Jax's soon-to-be ex-wife Wendy.
Tara didn't know what to make of Donna's reaction. In Tara's mind, it was seriously unlikely that Jax would be interested in a woman like Donna. After all, not only was she his best friend's widow, but she couldn't see Jax taking on the responsibility of raising another man's children, even if they were Opie's. He had enough on his plate with his own newborn son to raise. And although Tara had to begrudgingly agree with Gemma and admit that Donna was indeed very pretty, she just wasn't what Tara would call Jax Teller's "type".
Does she have two sets of lips? Then she's Jax Teller's type, Tara's own insecurities snarked at her.
Donna certainly had the balls to stand up and give it to the SAMCRO Queen, which had surprised Tara. But ultimately, only Tara had the kind of connection with Jax that could survive a decade apart. Not only had they been each other's first loves, but upon her return to Charming, Doctor Tara Knowles had saved his son's life.
That has to count for something, and I intend to make the most of it.
Finally picking up and paying for her lunch order, Tara made her way out of the café. About to turn up the block for the four-block trek back to St. Thomas, Tara wrinkled her brow as she saw a woman walking rapidly towards her. Recognizing her, Tara gave her a tentative smile as the woman came to a sudden halt in front of her.
"Uh, hi, Wendy." She eyed the young woman, noting that Wendy looked upset, almost agitated. "Are you looking for me? Is something wrong with Abel?"
Wendy took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "There's nothing wrong with Abel, but yeah, I was looking for you. I need to ask you a question." She nervously moistened her lips, afraid to ask the question she really didn't want the answer to, but needed to ask anyway. "Are you with Jax?"
Tara's eyes widened as a puzzled look crossed her face and a faint blush stained her cheeks. "I don't know how to answer that." She replied with intentional evasiveness.
"It's not a very hard question to answer. You're either with him or you're not." The blond-haired woman shot back.
Wendy was at what she knew was a crossroads in her relationship with her old man. Despite the fact that Jax had given in to her pleas and agreed to try and work shit out, it was obvious that his heart wasn't in it. It certainly didn't help that she felt like she was fighting a losing battle in getting a hang of the whole motherhood thing. Wendy knew she still loved Jax and loved their son, but she couldn't help but feel like she was a big disappointment. She was never any good at multitasking and now, between learning how to be a good mother, working through the outpatient portion of her rehab and trying to fix things with an emotionally unavailable old man, Wendy felt like she was quickly coming undone and on the verge of losing it all.
Her bitch of a guidance counselor was pushing Wendy to relocate to a sober-living facility in Seattle so she could just focus on herself and get her shit together. Wendy didn't see how that would be possible since her heart would always be in Charming, but she had made the mistake of confiding this to Gemma. The prospect of Wendy moving to Seattle, coupled with Jax's obvious disappointment in his wife after walking into the chaos that was his home when he had returned from Eureka a month ago had Gemma scrambling to get Jax to commit to a relationship with Wendy. Gemma should have known better than to back Jax into a corner. He would always come out swinging, not caring who he knocked down, which was why the Queen had recently spent some time on her son's shit list.
It was enough to push Wendy to finally take matters into her own hands—in the end, she couldn't fuck it up any worse than Gemma already had—and face the one person she believed was standing in the way of her happiness. Mustering up her courage and what was left of her self-confidence, Wendy had gone to St. Thomas in hopes of finally tracking Tara down because she was determined to have her say.
"Do you love him?" Wendy demanded.
Tara eyed the clearly upset woman. "I'm sorry, but I'm not comfortable having this conversation with you." She tried to walk around Wendy, but Wendy stopped her progress.
"I don't give a shit about what you're comfortable with. You've been overseeing my son's care for months now, acting like you're my friend, like you're actually concerned about me. Then at Abel's shower you made it quite clear in front of everyone that your real interest is in getting back together again with my husband!" Wendy accused indignantly.
"Ex-husband." Tara weakly clarified, her eyes darting up and down the street as onlookers paused to gawk before going on their way.
"Two more months before that's official, bitch! He's still my husband and Abel is our son. Not yours."
"Wendy, right now, what you need to do is focus on getting better. Take some time to get your head on straight. If you and Jax are supposed to be together, then he'll be there when you get out."
"And where will you be?" Wendy shot back.
Refusing to answer, Tara shrugged her shoulders. "I have to get back to work." Turning to walk away, she was stopped in her tracks by Wendy's next words.
"She'll never let you be with him, you know." Turning to face her again, the doctor noted the resigned and somewhat pitying look on the woman's face. "Gemma hates you. She'll do whatever she needs to do to keep you two apart. You might as well quit while you're ahead—or alive, for that matter."
Watching as Jax's old lady turned and headed down the street, Tara let out a deep sigh. She didn't like being cast in the role of the other woman. She had an innate sense of justice and had always believed that other people's relationships were to be respected. God only knew how much she hated having to fight to keep the women down at the Clubhouse at bay when she first started dating Jax in high school. Back then, Tara would never have tolerated someone trying to step over her to get to her old man and had had more than her fair share of catfights to prove it.
Then why is it that I'm just fine with doing it to Wendy?
Probably because Tara knew what a mistake she had made in leaving Jax behind in the first place and had managed to convince herself that, since they were meant to be together, he had never stopped being hers. In this case, in spite of a marriage certificate, a crow and a baby, Wendy was the interloper, not her.
With this confrontation, it was apparent to Tara that Wendy was fading fast and would soon to be out of the picture. Deep in thought as she walked towards the hospital, Tara realized that now was the time to make her presence known as a force to be reckoned with in Jax's life. With Joshua finally out of her life, she could see herself settling down and being happy with Jax at last, in spite of his interfering mother. The thought of being Abel's mother seemed the perfect way of coming full circle. After all, she had been the one to give him life after his own mother had been determined to end it for him.
In order to make any of that happen, however, Tara needed to keep herself in Jax's orbit. She had to push her feelings of guilt regarding Wendy away and she needed to prepare to do battle against his bitch of a mother. She wasn't afraid of Gemma Teller. Tara knew she could hold her own against her. She had done it before, only now it was for keeps.
A little more troubling, however, was the Queen's sudden favor towards Donna Winston. Gemma was definitely slipping if she believed that a woman like Donna, someone Tara remembered as mousy and demure in high school, would pose a real threat to her.
But the Donna I saw facing off with Gemma in the parking lot of the Stop-n-Shop yesterday was anything but mousy or demure, Tara reminded herself.
Although Donna had vehemently declared that she and Jax were "just friends", she seemed entirely too confident that all that could change and the only one capable of stopping it was Jax himself.
Tara shook her head at the insecure voices in her head and continued towards the hospital. Donna Winston had as much chance with Jax Teller as Wendy Case had of reconciling with him.
After all, first love dies hard.
Piney Winston yawned loudly as he hobbled his way from his bedroom to the small kitchen of his cabin. Rubbing at his crusty eyes, the old and tired biker allowed them to wander to the window as he noted the late afternoon sun in disgust.
"Shit!" He griped, his voice hoarse from too much drinking the night before. "I was gonna head into the lot today.
The co-founder of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original had been MIA for well over a week, this last bender of his lasting a total of nine days. Not exactly a record, but pretty damn close. Over the last six months, the outlaw had started spending more and more time away from the Club he had created with his best friend John Teller as he lost himself in a never-ending bottle of Patron. It was easier to do that than facing the fact everyday of what was left of his pitiful life that his son was gone.
Pulling open the old and dilapidated refrigerator, Piney reached in to grab a bottle of beer. Popping the cap, he took a long drink. Finally coming up for air, Piney used a large fist to swipe at the sudden tears that had filled his eyes and had spilled onto his cheeks.
"You would think I'm a fuckin' woman." He chastised himself, not caring that over the last couple of days he had started talking out loud to himself more and more.
Piermont Winston was an old school badass biker. He was incapable of producing tears, or at least he had believed that was the case at one time. He had seen too much death and destruction in his life that he had been bled dry of tears. Needless to say, Piney didn't deal well with all the emotional shit people, especially women, felt compelled to talk about until they were blue in the face.
He wasn't completely hollow inside, however, and Piney would be the first to acknowledge that he had feelings. There was just no point in talking about them ad nauseum. Feelings getting you down? Getting too hard to bear? Then just kick the living shit outta something or someone. Promise you'll feel way better than the schmuck on the floor bleeding through his ears.
Over the years, Piney, a tough motherfucker and hard drinking man, had seen more than his fair share of bad shit rain down on him and those he loved. He thought he had seen it all, first in Vietnam and then as an outlaw biker, but nothing had ever prepared him for the paralyzing grief that losing his only son caused him. Sometimes the pain caught him by surprise and all he could do was curl himself up into a fetal position and let the tears come. Other times, most of the time, he could feel the pain coming, and that's when he'd hightail it to the cabin where he'd start drinking before the pain had the chance to overwhelm and cripple him.
The son Piney had loved so much, his legacy, had not been allowed to reach the prime of his life. His brutal and premature death caused the older man to lose many nights of sleep as he reexamined his life and the brotherhood he loved so much, and he found the Club sorely lacking.
Returning to his cabin after his son's funeral, Piney had pulled out his old Army footlocker which held some of his most precious possessions. One of them was a manila envelope which contained his copy of a book written by John Teller. Pulling it out of its envelope, Piney looked at the handwritten note attached to its cover and, with a deep sigh, reread the last words his best friend had directed at him.
"To my oldest, dearest and wisest friend. What we started was a good thing for a good reason. What we've become is a different thing for reasons I no longer understand. I feel angry winds at my back and I'm not sure how much time I have left in this kutte I love so much. This book is for all the things we wanted and for all the things we still can be. I love you, brother. JT."
The last time Piney had read those words and his brother's manuscript was shortly after JT's funeral. The contents had truly racked at the old biker's soul for in reading them he realized just how much he and JT had failed to live up to the vision that they had had for the Club.
And instead of trying to fix what was broken, I allowed it to continue to fester, become more diseased and broken from within instead of stepping up to fix it. Maybe if I had, Opie would still be alive.
It was a painful realization for the old biker, the thought that he had inadvertently played a part in his own son's death, but he wasn't getting any younger, or healthier for that matter, and it was time for Piney to deal with cold hard facts instead of burying shit as he had done in the past. To his way of thinking, his mind was willing, but his body was weak. The changes needed within the Club had to come from a younger, stronger generation, and Piney believed that Jackson Teller was the leader the Sons needed in order to make change happen.
Piney had believed that giving John's manuscript to his son now would be a defining moment in the young man's life. It would take a strong man to overcome the greed that had stemmed from the head of the table and that was responsible for much of the problems within the Club to date.
Sitting back in a large recliner next to the window in the cabin's small living room, Piney now poured himself a shot of Patron as he wondered whether Jax had even started reading the book. It was just then that he heard the sound of a familiar bike make its way up the narrow track of dirt road to his cabin.
Peering through the thin, threadbare curtains, the old biker smiled as he spotted his best friend's son pull to a stop and head up the cabin's porch steps.
"Come in, shithead!" Piney yelled as a fist pounded on the door. "Door's open!" Piney grinned as the young man swaggered inside, his reaper cap perched backwards on his head, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.
"Hey, old man," Jax greeted him. Stopping mid-stride, he sniffed at the air. "Damn, brother! When was the last time you hit the shower?"
Piney snorted. "You came all the way up here to complain about my hygiene, boy?"
"No, but nonetheless I would appreciate if you would at least open a window."
Reaching over, Piney did as he was requested. "You wanna a beer? There's a couple in the fridge."
Grabbing one, Jax sat down on an old faded sofa across from his best friend's father. On his way to the cabin, Jax had thought long and hard about how to approach Piney about the contents of his father's manuscript and his concerns and fears about the Club.
"So I'm guessing you didn't come all the way up here to drink my beer, asshole." Piney said quietly.
"Nah, I didn't." Jax set his beer down on the coffee table and eyed the older biker grimly. "That was a load of heavy shit to drop on me, old man."
"I know. I pretty much felt the same way the first time I read it. It wasn't easy facing the realities of what the Club had become as seen through JT's eyes." Piney sighed. "He was younger than me, your old man, but I looked up to him as if he were my big brother. We were lost when we came back from 'Nam. We couldn't take the horrors of war anymore, but we didn't quite fit in once we got home. JT was always reading, philosophy and shit like that. I used to bust his ass about it, but the truth was I respected him and I would have followed him to the end of the world. He understood that we needed something, something for us that reminded us of the camaraderie and brotherhood we had in the hell that was war. He needed something to live and die for. The Sons of Anarchy was that vision, but somewhere along the way, what we started out as got lost and twisted into something else."
Jax removed his reaper hat, tossing it on the coffee table as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Reading Dad's words—finding out what he really wanted from the Club—has made me question everything about my life—the choices I could have made, my relationships. Losing Opie shattered me in a way that I never thought possible." Jax paused. "To see that maybe, if the Club had gone a different route, he would still be here with us—it's fuckin' hard, bro."
"How do you think I feel?" Piney replied, wearily running his hand over his unshaven face. "I've been sitting on this for the past 15 years because the only man I trusted to make change happen was dead."
And whose fault is that, asshole? Piney thought with no little shame. If only I had pulled my fuckin' head out of the endless bottles of Patron, I could have backed my brother up in excising the cancer that has been rotting the Club from within for years. Maybe I could have saved my brother and best friend from an untimely and tragic end. I think the time has finally come for me to tell his boy everything.
But instead of listening to his troubled conscience, Piney sat back in his recliner as JT's son tried to shake him out of his apathy.
"Then what the fuck are we gonna do about it, old man?" Jax asked earnestly, sitting forward on the couch, his elbows on his denim-clad knees. "I love this Club, but I can't let it continue down this dark path until we're all dead. Fifteen years from now, I don't want my son to have to watch me being lowered into a fuckin' grave because I didn't learn from my old man's mistakes."
"Then you fix shit." Piney exclaimed emphatically.
"I can't do it alone, Piney."
"Son, I don't have many days left on this earth. Change is a young man's game. That's why you need to be the one to do this." Piney replied.
Jax gave the older man a hard glare. "You're not dead yet, asshole. You're the only link I have to my father, the only one who understood his vision. I can't do it with just his manuscript backing me up. Hell, it would be pretty damn arrogant of me to think that I could do this alone. Period. I need you by my side, old man, not wallowing away up here by yourself getting shitfaced. There's a lot more gas in that tank of yours than you're willing to cop to. I need you, Piney."
Piney grunted derisively. "There's only one fuckin' problem to be dealt with, boy, and it's sitting at the head of the fuckin' table."
"Don't you think I realize that?" Jax asked, his blue eyes wide. "But what you're talking about doing is not some easy shit to manage. Clay is the man that he is because WE made him that way. WE empowered him to be what he is."
"It's not just the immense power he wields, son. The heart of the problem—that which empowered Clay in the first place—stems from our gun running. Ever since we got into this shit, greed has been running this Club right into the ground. That deal that Clay made to sell guns to the Mayans backfired on us and bled all over my son, costing him his life." Piney argued.
Jax's brow furrowed as his chewed on his bottom lip. The one thing Jax knew for sure was that it was way too soon to drop his suspicions on Piney about Clay's possible involvement in Opie's death. For now, it was wiser to just agree with Piney's reasoning.
"I know, but stopping that shit ain't gonna be easy. The Sons have been running guns for over twenty years. Everyone has grown accustomed to the money that it brings to the table. Getting us out of the game is not going to happen overnight and it definitely won't happen with Clay wielding that gavel."
"So what do you propose we do?" Piney asked.
"We do what we can to keep Clay in check, curtailing any of his plays that could damage the Club further. Clay's hands aren't getting any better. It's only a matter of time before they go completely. Then I'll be in a position to effect real change." Jax explained, noticing the frustration on Piney's face. "Hey, the Club didn't go to shit overnight. We're not gonna undo any of the damage overnight either. In the meantime, I'm gonna need your support, old man and the only way you can do that is by sitting at the table, not holed up here day in and day out. Besides," Jax continued. "I'm not the only one who needs you present, Piney. How the fuck do you think Opie would feel to know that you've all but abandoned Donna and the kids?"
Running his hand through his hair, Piney sighed. "I don't think he'd be surprised, me being a drunk and all." He replied as Jax flashed him a look that had disappointment written all over it. "I get it, alright?" Piney said grimly. "Have you seen them lately?"
Suddenly, Jax hunched his shoulders. "Yeah. They're good, but they're missing their grandpa. Kenny and Ellie need you and me both."
Looking at Jax, he did something Jax hadn't seen him do in months. Piney smiled. "You always did look after Ope's family. You were the only one who gave a damn about them when he was on the inside. I know he loved you for that, son. His family was one less thing he had to worry about, knowing you were watching out for them. Even now you're there for your brother by being there for his family and my daughter-in-law needs all the help she can get."
Just help? Jax thought grimly. The last thing she probably needs is me pushing up on her fine ass.
Seeing a variety of emotions pass over Jax's face, Piney smiled inwardly to himself. Standing up, he walked over to his son's best friend and placed a ham-sized fist on his shoulder. "So, we're in this shit together, huh?"
Jax stood up and hugged the older man. "That we are. Now get your ass in the shower, old man. It's time to get you back in your dorm."
Watching as Piney ambled his way to his bedroom, Jax grinned. Finally, he was seeing his way out of the pitch darkness he had plunged into after Ope's death.
A/N: I've been on hiatus with this story for a while in part because there doesn't seem to be much interest in it. Feedback has been pretty low and I've been concentrating on wrapping up another fic and developing several more, including a new universe that sticks closer to canon. I would never leave a story unfinished, but updates have been slow in coming and I sincerely apologize to those readers who are enjoying Four Women. I will say that I have the next two chapters in rough draft so I haven't abandoned it and don't plan to. I did, however, have a sequel planned, but now I'm not sure if I will go ahead with it. Your reviews won't only feed the muse, but will help me figure out where to go from here. As always, thanks for reading.
—Harlee