Chapter 11: Trigger Finger
Rowan's Point of View
The moment I put the key in the ignition and started my car and drove away from the garage I regretted it, severely. Of all the stupid things I've done in my life tailing a bunch of outlaw bikers has to be the stupidest. At the very least it's in the top ten. I've watched enough CSI: Crime Scene Investigation and Law & Order to know how to follow a car without being spotted. I'm keeping my distance and hanging back not drawing attention to myself. And my mother says watching television doesn't teach you anything. Well, I hope I'm right in this case because if SAMCRO or anyone else see's me I am pretty much toast, burnt crusty dead toast. I knew even if I begged Jax to tell me what was going on he wasn't going to tell me. He trusts me, but not enough to know about club business. I already know Deacon's a criminal from his police record.
The curiosities I have about Deacon, my father, could be solved if I just talked to him. But, me being the product of my mother causes me to be extremely stubborn and defiant. God, it feels weird to even think the word father in my mind. It feels foreign, like a word from a different language that I can't pronounce.
My stomach has twisted itself into a thousand knots and I feel like I could puke.
So far I've followed Jax into a small nice little neighborhood. All of the lawns had just been cut filling my car up with that freshly cut grass smell. Kids frolicked up and down the road chasing a red dodge ball, running out of the way when a car needed to pass through and then immediately resuming their game afterwards.
I pulled over onto the curb and watched Jax get off his bike and walk up the road a little ways, stopping in front of a greying blue sided house. A tall guy wearing the SAMCRO cut and a beanie cap met Jax halfway down the driveway.
Jax talked to the guy for a few minutes and picked up a large bag then headed back down the street to his bike. I slid down in the driver seat cursing under my breath just to make sure he didn't see me lurking at him through the windshield.
What the actual fuck am I doing right now? This is insane, like I should probably stop by the psych wing at St. Thomas and get tested for something. I need to just go to the hospital and be with my mom. Jax's bike roared to life and he took off down the road making a right hand turn at the corner.
"Fuck it…" I mumbled to myself, pulling off into the road and continuing to follow him. As I waited at the stop sign I could see Jax stopped at another one talking to someone else on a bike, it looked like Clay. He seemed a little pissed off at Jax for some reason. More guys showed up at the corner on their bikes after a few minutes.
It was like a crowd of motorcycles roaring wildly on the corner, like a mob. I waited and watched letting my car idle at the stop sign as they all took off together, like one big swarm of wasps. Deacon was one of them, seeing him riding in the flock of bikes was sort of sinister in a way. It left me feeling a little gutted inside. I wanted to know what he did for the club and following him and seeing him in action was the only way I'd get the real truth. If I asked he'd probably just lie to my face. I waited until the bikes were far enough up the road and made the turn heading the same direction they were heading.
The cool fading summer breeze ran through the car giving me goosebumps as I drove with the windows down. I highly doubted the goosebumps were coming from the cool air though. We headed down Main Street and then headed out of Charming completely towards San Leandro. We passed signs for that and Oakland after getting on the highway.
What could possibly be out this way God knows? It's all mountain country as far as I know. Jax said they were taking back what belonged to them, so the guns the Mayans stole from them? My hands gripped the wheel tighter, causing my knuckles to go white as I continued to follow behind them. The axles hummed beneath my feet as I drove down the cracked and fading highway. The sun was beginning to set down behind the mountains to my left, painting the sky beautiful shades of reds and oranges, they bled together seamlessly. Beautiful night for a heist, right?
After riding the highway for about an hour the guys decided to get off the highway, heading down a dirt road. I couldn't follow them because Juice had waited at the end of the road on his bike blocking it off, so I stopped a few hundred feet back and parked behind a shit ton of overgrown shrubs. They didn't come back out on their bikes; instead they were now driving a sleek black Chevy utility van. They took the roads leading into the small industrial town of San Leandro.
It made sense if they were getting their gun supply back, they'd need a way to transport it. I couldn't see them trekking back to Charming with guns strapped to their backs on bikes. That'd be a red flag there.
We came into the small town full of old warehouses and huge buildings. Some of the faded signs read Harrison Meat Packing & Co, Allstate Brick and Mortar Services, Marcalva Industrial Storage… I killed the lights on my car and pulled over when I noticed the van had stopped up ahead. The street we were on was vacant and eerie. From the looks of it we were parked behind some old metal building that had been surrounded with a barbed wire security fence. This place looked like it needed to be burned down, not secured.
I chewed my nails nervously as I watched the guys get out of the van, one by one. I spotted Jax with a black beanie cap on his head; he looked sort of cute with it on. I kept glancing up and down the street nervously as I slumped down in my seat trying to be discreet. I didn't want them to get caught by the cops or the Mayans and I didn't want to be caught by them. Jax knows my car, if he sees it. I'm screwed.
The guys took a pair of bolt cutters and cut the chain link fence open slowly, creating a big enough hole to climb through to get on the premises. Clay, Chibbs, Jax, and Juice and Deacon all made it through the fence quickly, moving out of my line of sight. Dammit, where the hell are the going now? Taking a deep breath I opened my car door and got out, feeling my hands shaking slightly as I quietly closed it behind me. I jogged across the street glancing over my shoulder repeatedly for fear of someone seeing me or them. I didn't know which. I crept up towards the chain link fence and peaked around the corner to see the guys' breaking and entering into one of the buildings. Everything in me was screaming to turn around and go home and pretend I didn't lose my mind and follow them…. Something kept pulling me towards them, like a magnetic force.
I climbed through the opening in the fence careful not to scrape my arms on the point ends of the fence and stayed close to the buildings, keeping myself hidden in the shadows. They all had flashlights, I could see them flickering through the buildings windows ahead of me. I'll be sure to put that on the list for my next stakeout or whatever the hell this is called. Insanity. Craziness. Suicide. All of those seemed to fit.
Quietly and swiftly I crept up to one of the windows to the building the guys were in and tried to peer in, except I was too short. Fuck. Apparently I got the height gene from my mother. I noticed stacks and stacks of empty milk crates nearby and decided to try and stand on one. It gave me just enough of a height boost to see inside, I just hoped it didn't buckle under my little bit of weight.
It was hard to see inside, the window was dirty and the glass was half fogged, but I could make out the figures of everyone as they walked around cautiously. Cardboard boxes and wooden crates lined the inside of the warehouse. Juice and Deacon were walking around cutting the boxes open. "Hey, we got em' boys!" Juice hollered, not very stealthy I might add, pulling a fully automatic M-4 out of the box. I guess those aren't just seen on Call of Duty.
"Holy shit…" I whispered surprised and stunned standing on my tiptoes to get a better view. The crate beneath my feet rocked a little as I shifted my weight, knocking me off balance for a split heart stopping second.
"We got the rest over here." Deacon hissed, holding up another one. God, how many of those did they need. Why didn't the Mayans just buy them from SAMCRO? Why steal them and blow up a building in the process. It doesn't make sense, at least not to me anyway. That seems to be the theme lately, nothing makes sense to me.
"Good, get them loaded in the van. Let's wire this damn shithole up already." Clay ordered harshly, his voice gruff as he walked over to Jax. He was kneeling on the ground removing wires and sticks of dynamite from the sack he'd carried inside. Holy shit, they're not seriously going to blow this place up are they?
"What's the hold up?" Clay barked, shining the light in Jax's face. If someone shined a flashlight directly in my face, I'm sorry, but they'd be getting a swift punch to the throat. Jax glared up at Clay holding a few tangled red wires in his hand as he fished his cell out of his pocket.
"Nothing," Jax snapped annoyed, focusing his attention on his cell phone, "I've just got to check something with Opie." He finished saying, Opie must be the guy he picked up the explosives from. Glancing over to the other side of the building I noticed Deacon helping Chibbs and Tig carry the guns back out to the van on the street.
The faint sound of a motor running startled me, causing me to whip my head around towards the direction the whirring had come from, as I turned my head the crate beneath me gave out forcing me back onto the ground with a loud thud. "Fuck..." I mumbled under my breath lying on the asphalt stunned, I grabbed the back of my head where a stinging sensation had formed as I got to my feet. The front gates to the property had begun to clank open... We're not alone anymore.
"You hear that?" Deacon said from inside the building. That was really loud. I stayed glued to the side of the building standing under the window in the shadows.
"We've got company!" Tig announced abruptly. Yeah, this is the worst idea I've ever had. I'm done. I'm out of here.
Making a break for it before the front gate opened the rest of the way up I took off in a run, trying to make back to the chain link fence I'd came in through, but to no avail. In order to make it back to the hole in the fence I'd have to go past the front gate and risk being spotted. The gate was nearly opened now, men talking in Spanish were laughing behind the part of the gate that had yet to be opened. I spotted a few overflowing dumpsters and ran for them, good hiding spot as any, feeling my heart pounding in my chest with each step.
I knelt down on my knees behind the dumpster quickly, ignoring the rats that scattered and scurried past my feet. This is so fucking gross. Wooden pallets helped keep me hidden and out of sight. I've never been more thankful for a piece of rotting wood in my entire life. I heard the truck pass through the gate and continue forward stopping right in front of the dumpster I was hiding behind. I could hear the truck doors opening and slamming shut and flinched with each loud bang. This is bad. If I hadn't lost my mind and followed them I'd be at the hospital waiting for Jax eating shitty banana pudding with my mom and watching American Idol and laughing at the idiots that audition and dance instead of sing.
Bravely I took a chance and peeked around the corner of the dumpster to see where the men had gone and saw Jax and Clay huddled behind a tall stack of wooden pallets arguing, guns drawn. Obviously they knew the other people were here, but I didn't know what they were going to do about it. Clay kept attempting to charge forward, and every time Jax pulled him back. I could hear the guys talking in Spanish still which meant they were close, I just couldn't see them.
My eyes darted back over to Jax and Clay once again, as Jax ran out from behind the wooden pallets and grabbed a wooly dirty moving blanket off the top of one of the pallets and wrapped it around him-self. What is he doing? I wanted to yell, you idiot just stay hidden, but I couldn't. Jax started to stumble over his own feet as he came closer to me and the guys, singing an old country song in a weird voice that normally would make me laugh. As he got closer I bit my lip and clenched my fists at my sides shaking. I peeked around the corner again just as Jax was about to walk by, his eyes caught mine and I froze terrified. He stared at me for an instant and continued forward playing the part of a drunken homeless person.
"Tell your dirt bag buddies, they camp out here, they get some of this." Someone laughed out, in front of the dumpster. I heard a thwack and the dumpster get nudged and flinched; someone had gotten punched hard and fallen into it.
"No, bang, bang, por favor." I heard Clay hiss vehemently, "You tell your dirt bag buddies, they steal from Sam Crow, they get some of this." Clay said before I heard a loud ear piercing gunshot ring out several times.
My hands instinctively went over my ears as I squeezed my eyes shut pretending I was somewhere else. The gunshot rang out loudly reverberating through the quiet night air. Between the sound of my heart pounding and the ringing in my ears I barely heard the scuffling off feet and the gun hit the ground beside me and the dumpster.
My eyes stayed glued to the black handgun lying on the ground next to me. I heard shoes scuffling the ground and peeked over my shoulder to see Jax standing nearby with his gun drawn out in front of him, holding someone at gun point. Our eyes met briefly, he had a large bloody gash below his left eye, he shook his head slightly, as in saying do not move or make a sound. I didn't even realize I had started to cry until I tasted the salty tears on my lips as they streamed down my face.
"Holy shit, what the hell happened?" Deacon yelled out, as him and the other guys came running up behind Jax. I turned back around and stayed quiet behind the dumpster fighting off the urge to puke or scream.
"Go check the back, make sure this is all of them." Jax instructed sternly, his voice so familiar now and almost soothing. Boots hit the ground with thuds as the guys took off in the direction they'd come from.
"He's all yours," Clay snapped most likely to Jax. As I braced myself for another loud bang from the bullet leaving the chamber I heard the guy talking in Spanish. I sucked at Spanish in high school, but I did pick up a few words here and there, like 'please don't kill me, please spare me.' My heart broke as I prayed Jax wouldn't do it. But, deep down inside me, way deep down, I knew he had too. Jax was going to murder this guy in cold blood at point blank range.
I heard something coming from my left and looked around the side of the dumpster to see a hooded figure moving closer through the shadows. When he stepped into the light I saw the hand gun in his hand pointed straight for Jax, heart pumping, my eyes caught the handgun lying on the ground a few feet away from me. The guy moved closer keeping his sights set on Jax. I waited for him to fall to the ground, hoping someone else would see him and shoot him, but they didn't.
Slowly, I reached for the gun and picked it up, feeling the cold weight of it in my hand. My hands trembled as I lifted it up, hands still shaking I gradually started to get to my feet. The guy crept closer towards Jax and in an instant he pulled the trigger, sending five bullets flying through the air. Only they hadn't come from him they'd come from me. I heard Jax groan in pain and another two shots ring out sending my ear drums into overdrive. The guy fell to the ground, blooding pouring out of his chest as another two shots rang out as Clay shot the guy Jax had been holding at gun point. I couldn't hear as I moved the rest of the way around the side of the dumpster with the gun still in my hand.
"You alright?" Clay yelled to Jax, but it sounded so far away. I stood their half hunched over ready to fall to the ground and curl myself in the fetal position. Everything moved in slow motion as Jax got up off the ground with Clay's assistance.
"I'm good, I got the vest on." Jax reassured him, as the others came running. I just shot someone... I stared at the guy's lifeless body lying on the ground twenty feet away.
"Why is she here?" Deacon exclaimed, stepping towards me in pure shock. I stumbled backwards into the side of the dumpster scared out of my mind.
"What is she doing here?" Clay snapped, as everyone looked at me standing their eyes wide open, like a deer in the headlights or a raccoon getting caught rummaging through the garbage.
Jax walked over to me and stood in front of me slowly taking the gun out of my hand and slipping into the waistband of his pant. "We have to call the cops, he needs an ambulance." I stuttered, feeling my pockets for my phone and pulling it out. "He's going to die, we have to get him to a hospital." I shrieked, tears running down my face. Jax grabbed my arms and made me look at him for a moment.
"Jesus Christ, we need to move. All that gunplay's probably drawn a lot of attention this way. Let's finish this and get the hell out of here." Clay snapped harshly, pointing his gun at me. Jax stood in front of me, keeping me behind him, holding his hand out protectively, as Deacon pointed his gun at Clay.
"Put the god damn gun down, Clay. For Christ sake you aren't shooting my kid, she isn't going to say anything, she just did us a favor." Deacon hissed angry that Clay would even consider shooting me, "Rowan won't be a problem." Jax said coming to my defense. "I'll handle it." He said, grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me away from the others. I looked back over my shoulder to see Deacon lower his gun and the others standing over one of the bodies on the ground.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jax whispered pissed, as he slung me in front of him. I was in shock and not thinking clearly, crying. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down as I wiped my eyes, "I-I-I don't know..." I whispered through the tears shaking violently.
Jax placed his hands on my neck, cradling my face forcing me to look at him. His eyes were dark and hooded as he stared back at me. "Where's your car?" He asked calmly, still holding my face in his hands. I could easily see him snapping my neck right here and now with ease, but knew better. Jax wasn't going to hurt me.
"D-d-down the block." I stuttered out, as he pulled me in closer towards him. He pressed his forehead against mine and nodded his head slightly.
"Walk to your car, keep your head down. Drive back to St. Thomas and wait for me. Don't stop anywhere, don't talk to anyone, and don't do anything. Just wait for me. Okay?" Jax instructed as I shook my head no. I just helped kill someone... This is all wrong.
"I killed him..." I whimpered out, as he shook his head no. "No, you didn't. You were never here. I killed him. Understand? You didn't do anything wrong. This is on me. Now go!" He barked pushing me back slightly. I swallowed the lump in my throat and stumbled backwards looking at him through blurry eyes.
"GO!" He yelled again, forcefully. This time I turned on my heel and ran until I made it back to the hole in the fence.
St. Thomas felt like a second home to me. I guess because I've spent so much time here. When I pulled into the parking lot it felt like my mother had just enveloped me in a warm embrace. The tears had stopped flowing about half way back to Charming. Now I just felt numb. Jax's words echoed in my mind. "I killed him. This is on me." Those words ran on a loop in my brain. Tonight I had taken someone else's life. The light in their eyes had drained because I pulled the trigger, but if I hadn't done what I did Jax could have been killed. Had he not been wearing a bullet proof vest...
The waiting room in the NICU was small, a few lounge chairs and coffee tables filled the room, along with the vending machines along the far wall. I sat with my knees tucked under my chin on the floor beside on of the chairs with my back against the wall, rocking myself back and forth. I couldn't face my mother without falling apart, so I waited here for Jax, like he told me too. I hadn't spoken to anyone since I arrived at the hospital either. I watched as the nurses bustled back and forth in their mint green and light pink scrubs. It all blurred together though, the sounds of the hospital and the colors of the nurses uniforms.
As I lifted my head off of my knee I saw Gemma striding down the hall. I'd know her hair anywhere. She made the light blonde streak in her hair work well. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me and made her way towards me. I really didn't want to talk to anyone least of all her.
"You waiting on Jax?" Gemma asked like she already knew the answer. I got to my feet slowly and nodded my head.
"Yeah, he wanted to see Abel. Asked if I'd come with him. How did his surgery go?" I asked hopeful. Gemma smiled lightly, "The boy's a Teller after all. He kicked the surgeries ass." She boasted, as I lowered my head and smiled lightly.
"That's really great to hear." I whispered, noticing Jax striding down the hall behind Gemma.
"Mom, what's the word on the kid?" He asked as he stopped behind her.
"Looks like he's going to see his first birthday." Gemma replied, hugging Jax while I leaned against the wall nervously picking at my nails.
"That's great," Jax said, breathing out a sigh of relief. I could actually see a small weight being lifted off of his shoulders.
"I'm just heading to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee, you want anything baby?" Gemma said placing a hand on Jax's cheek gently, inspecting the cut on his perfect face. I wondered if she knew what had happened tonight.
"I'm good, mom. I'll catch up with you." Jax replied sending Gemma on her way leaving me alone with him. I didn't know what to say. There were no words to explain how I felt right now.
Jax took my hand gently in his own hand and pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he snaked his around my waist tightly, holding me as close as possible. I breathed him in as I nestled my head in the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his hand through my shirt as he touched the small of my back. "It's gonna be okay." He whispered in my ear, cradling the back of my head with his hand. I pulled back ever so slightly, letting our noses brush against each other. How could anything ever be okay again?
I noticed a few drops of blood on the color of his white undershirt and unzipped his hoodie a little to see even more blood stains on the front of his shirt. Jax took my hand in his own and lowered his head looking away, like he didn't want me to see it. I grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom, closing the door behind us.
"What are you doing?" Jax asked quietly, as I turned the water on in the sink and pulled a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser.
"You can't see Abel like this." I stated, looking at him waiting for him to take off his shirts. Blood stains lined the side of his neck as well. I wet the paper towels in the sinks and then dabbed the gash on his cheek lightly, trying not to hurt him anymore. Jax flinched a little at my touch but didn't complain.
"You don't need to do this. He's not going to see me anyway, his eyes are probably closed still. It doesn't matter." Jax tried to persuade me to stop, but I blatantly ignored him and continued to wipe his cheek. He touched my wrist causing me to look at him.
"It does matter! It's called having a little respect for your child. Plus, I need to keep busy, because if I stop and think about what happened tonight, I'm going to fall apart even more than I already have and trust me you don't want that. Okay? So, shut up and take off your shirt." I snapped at him, as he nodded his head in understanding. I've never told a guy to take off his shirt before. I surprised myself with that order.
Jax removed his cut, letting it rest on the counter and I unzipped his hoodie for him just keeping my mind focused on the task at hand. Jax shrugged out of the hoodie, wincing slightly in pain. He hooked his thumb in the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head swiftly leaving him in a black bullet proof vest. Every time he tried to unstrap the vest he winced in pain until I finally just did it myself. My eyes fell on the two torn spots on the vest where Jax had been hit. If he hadn't been wearing this tonight he would probably be dead right now, like the guy you shot. I swallowed the lump in my throat and let the vest fall to the floor.
"What were you thinking following us tonight?" He whispered frustrated with me, while I stared at his chest in shock and awe. I haven't seen many shirtless guys in front of me and the ones that I have seen don't even come close in comparison to Jax Teller. I looked away and wet more paper towels and began helping him wipe the streaks of dried blood off of his chest.
"I don't know, okay. I wanted to know more about Deacon. I wanted to know what he did for the club. It doesn't make sense to you, but at the time it did to me! I know it was completely stupid, and I regret it! " I explained letting the words fall out of my mouth like verbal vomit.
"You could have been killed, Rowan. I mean Jesus Christ. Did you not think about that?" Jax hissed staring down at me, furiously. He grabbed my arms and caused me to look up at him cautiously. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Rowan." Jax said sincerely, touching my face gently with his thumb.
"Well, clearly we've established that I wasn't thinking tonight." I told him satisfied with the amount of blood I had cleaned off of him.
"I'll say," Jax retorted, staring down at me with those baby blue's.
"I'm sorry for following you guys," I croaked out, hardly holding it together. I grabbed his hoodie off the floor and handed it to him; he put it on while I tossed the bloody towels in the trash.
I placed my hands on the counter and looked in the mirror, not wanting to see my reflection but needing to remember who I am. I felt a wave of emotions coursing through me and placed my hands over my face. I felt Jax pulling on my elbow and stepped into his chest. He locked his strong arms around me, making me feel instantly safe and secure and cradled the back of my head in his hand, forcing me to look up at him.
"Listen to me; you did what you thought you had to do. If I hadn't been wearing that vest and he shot at me I'd probably be dead right now. It was self-defense, Rowan." Jax whispered to me, as I buried my head in his chest, breathing in his calming scent.
"What happens now?" I whispered into his chest almost inaudibly.
"Now we try to forget and move on. I promise, it's all going to be okay." Jax reassured me, planting a small kiss on the top of my head. I pulled back and wiped my eyes and took a few deep breaths trying to compose myself. Hold it together Rowan, just a little longer. Don't fall apart completely. Not yet, not here.
"Let's go see Abel." I said as he reached for my hand, he picked up his cut and wrapped it around the vest and led me out of the bathroom. People stared at us because we were both in the bathroom at the same time. I glared at them and walked closely beside Jax, letting him intertwine our fingers together, ignoring everything around me.
Jax led me to the room Abel was recovering in, slowly we walked in and Jax sat his vest down on the couch along the back wall never letting go of my hand. My eyes fell upon an incubator across the room. The sound of breathing machines filled our ears as we stepped closer to the incubator, inside lied Abel. He was no bigger than a small mango or papaya. Tubes and wires snaked in and out of him helping to keep him alive.
"Oh my god, Jax. He's so tiny." I whispered as I took in all of his little features. He had Jax's button nose that was for sure and his fingers and toes were so tiny. I glanced at Jax to see him staring down at his son in admiration, tears welling in his eyes.
"He's perfect." Jax said holding back the tears, but eventually letting them out. He placed his hand on top of the incubator and looked over at me squeezing my hand gently...
