YOU'RE ALWAYS DANCING (part 2)
Unlike his mother, bad-tempered Rosa from the porch, Nero didn't seem to hate him on sight. In fact, the guy seemed downright amused by Jax's predicament - to the point of actually trying to help him. He'd cautioned Jax against chasing after Tara when she took off in her car - warning that, after his less-than-brilliant attempt at reconciliation, she'd probably rather run him down than listen to any more shit shooting out of his mouth.
"Since you scared her off, you mind helping me with that one?" Picking up one of the boxes Tara had abandoned in her rush to get away, Nero gestures to the remaining small box left on the ground - one that the tall, sturdy Mexican dude could easily lift one-handed. But sensing that the guy's got more to say to him, Jax grabs the box.
"Give her a little time," Nero counsels, motioning for Jax to follow him to the garage behind the house. "I may not know Tara as well as you, but from what I've know - she'll want time and space to make up her own mind. That one's real independent."
Jax rolls his eyes - no shit; that's the understatement of the year. "You have no idea," he murmurs. His eyes browse over the two-car, two-story garage before drifting up the outer stairs that led to the apartment where Tara's been living. He wonders if there's some way to convince Nero to let him inside.
"Not a chance," the man interrupts brusquely, reading Jax's mind. "Based on what I just saw, she'd kick my ass if I let you inside her place." Instead, he pulls out his keys and proceeds to unlock a rather mind-boggling number of deadbolts on the side door. What the fuck could he possibly have inside?
Following Nero into the dimly lit room, Jax drops the box next to the others then catches the can of beer Nero pulls from a small refrigerator and tosses his way.
"Sorry, I couldn't help listening - given both of you were yelling loud enough for the neighbors to hear, if I had any." Nero takes a swig of beer before peering at him curiously, a small smile teasing his mouth. "You actually thought she'd forgive you if you blamed her for your mistake?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "I'm sure a guy like you usually doesn't have problems with women, but I got to tell you…that's not too smart."
Popping the can open, Jax scowls at his host. "I don't recall asking for your fucking opinion." He downs half the beer in a few thirsty gulps.
"No, you didn't." Nero concedes. "But seeing how she couldn't get away from you fast enough, I'm thinking you could use some advice." He chuckles as Jax contemplates slamming a fist in the guy's all-too-knowing face. "Yeah, I know you want to punch me right now. But that's part of your problem, Kid. You only see your side of things."
Jax can't help but bark with bitter laughter over such unbelievable bullshit. "So are you supposed to be some kind of fucking psychic? We met a whole five minutes ago, and you know everything about me? Whatever, man."
"I know all about guys like you. Hell, I was one…a long time ago." Nero flips on the garage light, revealing a stable of Harleys that would drop jaws back at TM. Who the fuck was this guy?
"Holy shit…" Jax breathes, animosity draining away; it's hard to be pissed around such works of art. His eyes widen at the sight of a classic Harley EL Knucklehead. Fuck, the cherry red bike had to be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen - next to the green-eyed girl who lives above it. "You a collector?"
Shrugging, Nero takes another gulp of beer. "Mechanic - I own a shop not far from here. Rebuilding old bikes is a hobby of mine. That one…" He nods at the red bike. "…took me a few years to bring back to life. Belonged to a friend of mine. He was a guy just like you…MC so deep in his blood that you could smell it."
Jax tears his eyes from the bike to gape at the other man. He wasn't wearing a cut, and there's no way anyone could see his reaper tattoo through his shirt; how the hell did the guy know? Well, he wasn't confirming shit to Mr. Fucking-Know-It-All. But before Jax could tell the guy to mind his own goddamn business, he's distracted by a noise outside of someone climbing the stairs to the upstairs apartment. Tara's back!
Pulse racing, Jax shoots Nero a knowing smirk before racing out the door to intercept her; this time he'll convince her to listen to him. However, his excitement instantly freezes to cold rage at the sight of some slick blond asshole knocking on her door - a bouquet of flowers clutched in his other hand. "She not home," he hears himself barking like some pissed off guard dog.
The douchebag turns and immediately scowls down at him. "Who're you?" he demands imperiously, remaining on the landing as if still expecting Tara to open the door.
When they were little kids, he and Opie used to mock Donna endlessly for her collection of Barbie dolls; once they even stole her super-faggy Ken doll and blew it apart with Opie's firecrackers in the name of science. The creep looking for Tara reminded Jax of that plastic piece of shit. "Someone trying to save that limp wrist of yours," Jax snaps; what he wouldn't give for a stick of dynamite to shove up the prick's ass.
"Is that so?" Ken Doll sneers, slowly stomping down the stairs. His icy blue eyes scan Jax contemptuously. "And how would someone like you know even know Tara?"
Apparently Ken Doll doesn't know shit about Tara's background or how thoroughly Jax knows her. Smirking, he opens his mouth to educate the fucker - only to feel Nero's restraining hand on his shoulder as a silent, yet clear, shut-the-fuck-up warning.
"Hey, Nick," Nero greets the asshole with a welcoming smile. "When did you get into town?"
Shooting one last scowl at Jax, the douchebag's face transforms into a smarmy grin as he turns to Nero. "This morning. I'm here for the weekend and thought I'd surprise my girl."
"Well, she isn't home right now. But I'll tell her you stopped by as soon as she gets back - I'm sure she'll be happy to see you." Nero offers helpfully, his fingers digging into Jax's shoulder as if knowing how badly Jax's fists want to crush bones and spill blood on the asshole's pristine white Stanford t-shirt.
"All right, thanks - appreciate it. Tell her I'll call her about dinner tonight." Ken Doll tosses a smug glance at Jax - clearly unaware of how closely he's flirting with violent death - before heading back to his car.
Gritting his teeth, Jax watches him climb into his convertible cage and speed away. Pussy. "Who the fuck was that?" he hisses, wrenching away from Nero's grip.
"Friend of hers. Goes to school up north - Stanford. They met when he was here for some sports thing…I think he's on his school's swim team." Nero tells him matter-of-factly, his dark eyes swimming with amusement - which just pisses Jax off even more.
Oh for fuck's sake, Jax rolls his eyes. Tara's dating goddamn fucking Aquaman? Well that's over now; Tara belongs to him. He'd been willing to step aside for Opie's sake, but not for this asshole - or anyone else ever. That fucker's dead if he touches Tara again.
"You want to go for a ride?" Nero must've sensed the homicidal bent to his thoughts. "If you rode all the way here from Northern Cal, you must be hungry. Besides you'll need to be at full strength when she gets back."
Although he's tempted to tell the nosy bastard to fuck off, Jax decides to listen to his growling stomach and nods. He glances towards the garage where his dream bike's parked, only to hear Nero laughing once again. "No fucking way, mano. We'll take my truck."
"So how long have you known Tara?"
Jax chews his burger slowly, deliberately - anything to delay answering the question that'll lead into a conversation he's not sure he wants to have with this guy. On the ride here, he'd learned a little more about Nero Padilla beyond being Tara's tall Hispanic landlord who owned cool-as-shit Harleys.
While Jax remained mostly silent - as future King of SAMCRO, he's not some clueless dipshit who ever drops his guard around anyone - Nero had chattered nonstop about his family (Mean Mama Rosa and his young son who's got some sort of handicap that Jax's never heard of before) and his repair shop that once belonged to his grandfather. Still - although Nero seems like a good enough guy - Jax still doesn't fully trust him. Why in fuck's name does he want to know so much about Jax's business with Tara? Unless…
Dropping his burger, Jax can feel his temper spiking once again as he glares murderously at the man sitting across from him. "What's it to you?" he hisses through clenched teeth. The thought of this old motherfucker lusting after Tara makes him want to leap across the table and gouge the prick's eyes out with his fork.
"Christ, you are something else," Nero bursts out laughing, his whole body shaking with amusement at Jax's expense. "No, I'm not interested in her that way - shit, she's young enough to be my daughter. Definitely not my style." Then suddenly his face loses any trace of humor as he regards Jax somberly. "She's a good kid, helps out Ma and my boy when she's not at school or at her job. I took her on as a tenant because she needed a cheap place to live, and they need someone like her. That's what it is to me."
Flushing slightly, Jax nods, somewhat abashed over his rush to judgment (although who could blame him, given that he'd been raised by the men of SAMCRO who believed chasing young tail was an integral part of life). "I've known her for a few years," he finally admits. But that's it. Anything else is none of anyone's fucking business.
"Hmmm, I can't seem to picture her as one of those girls who hangs around bikers…"
"She isn't," Jax interrupts curtly, shooting Nero a warning look. "Tara's nothing like them." Lighting a cigarette, he peers at Nero through the smoke. "There you go again, playing at being a goddamn psychic. What the hell makes you think I'm in a Club? You don't know shit about me."
Leaning back against the booth, Nero smirks at him. "When Tara first saw my bikes, she told me her ex-boyfriend used to ride - him and all his friends. Didn't think anything of it until I saw you; like I said before, MC's in your blood - gives you a look in your eyes that I'd recognize anywhere. Let me guess…hick town in Northern California…SAMCRO, right?"
Jax tries to mask his surprise with another long drag on his cigarette. "Jesus Christ, what's next…you gonna read my palm?" He shakes his head, torn between wanting to get the fuck away from Nero's all-too-knowing gaze and hanging out to learn as much as he can about Tara's life here - minus the fucking advice. "You seem to know a lot about MC's - that because of your friend who owned the red bike?"
Nero shrugs at the change of topic. "My old man ran an MC charter in El Centro so I grew up in the life. From when I was a kid, the only things I wanted were a cut and a Harley. Finally patched in at eighteen with my cousin, Lucius…He was my best friend - the closest I had to a real brother. We were going to take over the Club once my old man was too old to ride."
Is this shit for real? Frowning, Jax gazes down at the SONS rings on his hand - a legacy from his old man, along with the Club he'll inherit one day. The Club, he and Opie plan to run together one day. "So what happened?" he hears himself asking. "You wearing the President's patch now? In the car you said your old man's dead."
Nero shakes his head but remains silent, staring out the window for a moment before turning those dark eyes on Jax. "When I was VP, Lu and I got busted for muling coke for the Club. Got five years in Lancaster. Most of it was no sweat, Brown takes care of Brown. But a few months before we were scheduled for release, Lu got into a serious beef with a guy in an Aryan gang. I kept telling him to let that shit go, but he wouldn't leave it alone…One day, the guy was found beat to hell - he died before they could get him transferred to a real hospital. Just as well, probably would've been a vegetable if he'd survived."
Christ, this wasn't going to end well. Despite the fact he's never spent more than a couple of hours in Charming's jail, Jax knows all about the horrors that could happen inside, especially when dealing with sadistic monsters with nothing more to lose. Transfixed, his eyes bore into Nero - who's staring out the window once again, as if searching for an alternate end to an obviously painful past.
"Five years - right on time - I got out. Alone. Even though we had protection inside, those Nazi bastards could always find a way to get to anyone, any time."
Jax clenches his fists, his blood chilling at the thought of what Nero must've suffered; he can't imagine what he'd do if he lost Opie - or any of this Brothers. "You retaliate? That's what I'd fucking do. Kill every one of those bastards with my bare hands."
Once again Nero shakes his head. "My Club got their revenge eventually. They waited until I was released, then my uncle and my old man used their contacts in Lancaster to exterminate all those skinhead pricks. As for me…when I got out of prison, I got out of all of it. Never went back to El Centro - blacked out my ink. My old man didn't deal any repercussions, but he never talked to me again either. My other cousin runs the Club now, but he leaves me alone. They all do."
"And now you're living happily ever after with your mom and your kid and your grandpa's bike shop. Happy for you, Bro." Jax's eyes narrow with suspicion. "So why'd you tell me all this shit? You don't even know me. Tell me you're not one of those ex-cons who has to reform everyone…this isn't one of those bullshit scared straight lectures, is it? If so, you're wasting your fucking time."
The haunted look vanishes from the older man's face, replaced by that now-familiar-annoying-as-fuck knowing smirk. "Hey, you asked. I don't have a problem talking about my life. Unlike some people."
Jax scowls at him before guzzling down the rest of his beer. "So does Tara really like that guy?" Oh fuck, he can't believe that shit just spilled out of his mouth. When did he turn into such an insecure little pussy?
Nero must've sensed heard something pathetic in Jax's tone or saw it on his face because there's no teasing glint in those dark eyes when he answers. "Yeah, I think she does…But you can't get pissed off about that. When I first met Tara, she never smiled - never laughed, except when she'd play with Lucius, my son. I thought it was a damn shame - pretty young girl like that shouldn't be that sad all the time."
Christ. Jax closes his eyes as all-too-familiar guilt rips through him. He'd been a total fucking idiot to say that shit to her; there's not a day since learning the truth that bitter regret didn't seep all the way to his bones like poison. But he's here now, ready to do any goddamn thing that'll make her forgive him.
"When she met Nick, she started smiling all the time. He's been good for her."
Bullshit. Feeling his temper rise, Jax grips the table top to keep from storming away in a furious huff. For some reason, he feels compelled to convince Nero that he's way better for Tara than fucking Aquaman. "Listen, if you think I'm going to give up because…"
"But then I saw her with you today…" Nero leans back in his chair, his dark eyes still fixed on Jax. "Yeah, she's mad now but if you can somehow fix it with her, well…I've only known Tara for a few months, but I've never seen her - or anyone, for that matter - look at another person the way she looked at you."
Jax releases a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as a broad grin spreads across his face. Holy shit, that felt good to hear.
"Just stop talking out of your ass."
"What are you still doing here, Jax?"
Startled, he nearly rips a hole in the notebook page with his pen before looking up to find a Tara looming above him. Sitting on the front step leading up to her apartment, he'd been so engrossed in his writing that he didn't hear her approach. Clutching a small paper bag, she looks more curious than pissed - which is a damn good sign. He hopes.
"Waiting for you." Standing, he notices her eyes widen slightly at the sight of the small black leather notebook in his hand - the same one she gave him years ago (although he's re-filled the pages a million times since then). "We need to talk, Tara. I'm not leaving here until we do."
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I heard what you had to say before - it's pure bullshit that…"
"You're right." He holds his hands up in surrender, watching her pink mouth drop open and dark brows shoot up in surprise. "I was a total dick, Tara. That night with you was the best night of my life - but it's true that I felt like shit when I thought I'd stabbed my best friend in the back. I just shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry."
Those green eyes gaze at him thoughtfully for a moment before brushing past him to climb up the stairs. "Come on inside. My ice cream's going to melt."
Heart beating hopefully, Jax follows her - his eyes glued to that lusciously perfect ass that first caught his attention and never let go. Soon, he tells himself, that ass and the rest of her will be his again.
Her apartment is an airy open space that serves as a living room, dining room, bedroom and kitchen with two separate doors leading to a bathroom and closet. One big window overlooks the copse of trees in the backyard and the ocean in the distance. It suits her, and he loves it instantly.
"Nice place," he comments as she puts the ice cream in the freezer. His eyes (naturally) drift to the full-size bed in the corner next to the window. The fat pillows, cream colored sheets and thick quilt look so inviting - it'd be so great to lay back on those pillows as she rides him, wearing nothing but sunlight…
"Not a chance, Teller." Her flat voice effectively douses cold water on the start of another hot fantasy. Leaning against the counter, she crosses her arms. "So tell me, how did this scenario play out in your head?"
Moving as close to her as he think she'll let him, he stares down into her beautiful face. "Happily ever after…you and me. We have a chance now, Babe."
"Do we?" She arches a brow, her green eyes doubtful. "You would leave SAMCRO and move here?"
Fuck no. Recoiling at the thought, he gapes at her in surprise. The Sons were his legacy. His future. Their future.
At his shocked silence, she shakes her head. "That's what I thought…you expected me to give up my life here and follow you back to Charming, right?"
Well yeah…although, based on the tone of her voice, she's not exactly open to the idea. But he can be accommodating - for her. "We don't have to live in town…we could find a place between there and where you decide to go to school. You always seemed to like Cal." Anywhere but Stanford; she's not getting any closer to that Ken Doll prick.
Sighing, she closes her eyes briefly before shaking her head once again. "I'm not leaving, Jax. I have a life here: a full scholarship at one of the best pre-med schools in the country, possibly a fast track into their med school. And the Padillas have been so great; Rosa and Lucius need me - I can't abandon them."
"Tara…" His protest cuts short when she rests her soft hand on his back, shooting excited prickles up and down his spine.
"And then there's this…" Her fingers trace the area where the reaper marks his skin. "Opie cheating with Donna wasn't what killed things with us. Okay, that was part of it, but we were more or less done before I caught them." Those green eyes bore into his. "I found out that SAMCRO's not just a motorcycle club - I know about the guns, about the violence. I didn't want that in my life, and he knew it."
Her hand drops from his back, only to be captured and gripped by his. "Tara, the Club's not what you think. What we do is a little outside the law but…"
"Spare me," Tara snaps, tugging her hand away from him. "I'm not an idiot, Jackson. I spent enough time in your Clubhouse to hear things, and unlike your precious croweaters, I can think for myself." Putting distance from them, she walks over to her couch and sits down, eyes focused out the window. "But for you…I thought I could live with it, so we could be together…"
"And we can be." Undeterred, he follows then slides in next to her. "We're supposed to be together. Just give it chance. I said I was sorry for what I did - just tell me what I need to do to make it up to you." He flashes her his most contrite expression then frowns when she narrows her eyes at him as if assessing his level of bullshit. Jesus, he's never groveled before - what the fuck's he supposed to do now?
His frustrated anxiety ratchets up a notch as she scoots away from him. "Even if I were to forgive you, Jax, I'm not Old Lady material. Your mom was right about that." She waves away his attempted protest. "I'm not leaving here, and you won't leave Charming or SAMCRO. Do you really expect me to believe that you wouldn't cheat? I've learned that's not something to expect of men in cuts."
"I'm not Opie," Jax counters hotly. "You can't punish me for his mistake." He thinks of tossing fucking Aquaman in her face, but he doesn't want to talk about that prick right now. Not ever.
She snorts with disbelief. "Really? Jax, you forget that I've seen you with women for years. You've never been faithful to anyone ever. But believe it or not, that's only part of the reason we won't work."
"Christ, you have list?"
"I know you spent some time with Nero...He must've told you about his past."
He shrugs impatiently; what the fuck does that have to do with anything? "Yeah, a little - he was in his dad's MC until he went to jail for muling coke. His best friend died so he walked away."
"Jax, his best friend didn't just 'die' - Rosa told me that he was butchered by a bunch of skinheads who made Nero watch. And then they beat the shit out of him so badly that he had to serve the rest of his time in the prison infirmary until the guards rolled him out the gates in a wheelchair. It took him nearly a year of rehab before he could walk again…All of that bad, bloody shit because two boys in cuts blindly followed orders from a man with a president's patch on his chest."
Rubbing his suddenly throbbing forehead with the heel of his hand, Jax eyes her warily. "No, he didn't tell me all of that…What the hell do you want from me, Tara? I love you…more than anyone. But I can't quit my Club…it's who I am."
"Only because you make it so…I've been telling you for years that you're so much more. But then that's reason we won't work," she tells him softly before rising to her feet. "It's the choice I know you'll make when you have to choose between a life with SAMCRO or a life with me."
