AN: Another huge apology for taking so long to update, although not sure if anyone's still interested in this story at this point. But it's almost done, just one more chapter left.

Sadly, I've been losing interest in writing fanfiction as work & RL have been so busy + I've been exploring the idea of writing an original novel (still a lot of research and outlining left before I can get there). But I re-watched SOA S1-2 on Netflix over the 4th holiday and that kind of re-inspired me: Jax & Tara are still so real, there's never been a pair on TV or in the movies that I've seen with that chemistry (ok, Brad & Angelina in Mr. & Mrs. Smith).

Thanks again so much for all your support & hope this chapter has been worth the wait.

EVERY NEW BOY THAT YOU MEET, pt. 2

"Soon Tara…We'll be together soon."

The smile that lit up the room just moments ago fades as she glances around at the other inmates and visitors before fixing on him once again. "You have to promise me that you'll be careful in here, Jax." Her dark brows wrinkle as fear creeps into those green eyes. "You know what happened to Nero's cousin when they went to jail. I'd die if…Please Jax, don't do anything to make trouble with these people. Promise me."

Call him an asshole, but Jax can't help the big shit-eating grin that spreads across his face; Tara wouldn't be this worried, wouldn't have come all this way to visit if she didn't love him back. "Don't worry, Babe. What happened to Nero's cousin was at a state prison in fucking gang-banger central. This is county jail; I'm in here with a bunch of drunk drivers and compulsive shoplifters."

Not buying his glib attempts at reassurances for a second, she shakes her head then glares at him. "Don't try to downplay this, Jax. You forget how much time I spent in your Clubhouse. I've heard Tig brag about beating up Mayans and other people when he was locked up in this very jail - and getting away with it. He said that the guards are too scared of the prisoners to do anything."

Rolling his eyes, Jax makes a mental note to beat the fuck out of his crazy asshole Brother for saying that shit in front of her. "Come on, you can't believe anything that comes out of that idiot's mouth. Anyway, Clay arranged protection for us before we even got in here. Trust me, nothing's going to happen. I promise."

She stares at him for a moment before nodding slowly. "Ok," she sighs then quirks her lips ruefully. "I guess if anything, I should be worried about myself…I'm on your mom's shit list again."

"Who isn't? I live on that list." Jax shrugs, brushing aside her worry. "I can't imagine what you could've done to piss her off any more than the rest of us." No need to dredge up how much his endless obsession with the gorgeous girl in front of him had Gemma frothing at the mouth.

Tara's gaze drops to her fingers fiddling with the phone cord. "Well, I probably wasn't very nice when I called her…When she told me you weren't in Ireland, I called her a lying bitch." Suppressing a bark of laughter, Jax tries his best to look contrite - and apparently fails miserably based on the scowl she shoots his way.

"After she told me you were really in jail, I had to apologize." Her perfectly pert nose scrunches in distaste. "So when she asked me to stop at TM and pick up a package she wanted to give you, I said okay. But then I got a flat tire outside of Fresno that took a long time to fix. I didn't want to be late for visiting hours, so I bailed on her."

What the fuck would his mom need Tara to deliver to him? By the time the guards finish inspecting every inch of it, he'd be ready for release from this shithole. "I'm sure it's fine, Babe," he assures her. "There's not a damn thing she could give me that's better than having you here right now."

A rosy flush stains her smooth cheeks as she gazes at her hand pressed up against his on the glass separating them. "So you're out of here in two weeks?" A small smile tugs at her lips, sending electricity charging through him. Suddenly two weeks seems like a goddamn eternity.

"Thirteen days to be exact." He leans even closer to the glass, wanting more than anything for it to melt away so he could touch her soft skin. "There'll be a big party at the Club that night. It'd be great if you could be there..." Christ, he hopes that didn't sound as desperate to her as it did to him.

"I don't know, Jax." Her hand slides off the glass as she evades his eyes - striking a blow to the persistent hope he'd stubbornly harbored of her instantly embracing life as his Old Lady once he gets the hell out of here. "Despite everything…You and me…I want that."

Jax releases the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "So do I, Babe. More than anything."

"But what I don't want is SAMCRO. I can't be Gemma or Luann..." Those sparkling eyes that own him so completely scan what must be his stony expression. "I want us to be together, and I'll go anywhere with you…but not Charming, I can't live that life. I don't ever want to visit you in jail again." Her gaze locks with his. "You have to make choice."

He bristles with temper but then forces himself to calm down. There's got to be a way to reason with her - make her see what a beautiful life he could give her, especially once he assumes his rightful place at the head of the reaper table. But there's no making that argument until he's free from the place that marks him a criminal. "Look, we can talk about that once I get out of here, okay? Now I want to hear about you…how's school? You a doctor yet?"

Tara hesitates for a moment then flashes him the smile that never fails to spike his pulse. While she updates him on her life in San Diego, he notes the genuine delight on her beautiful face, the excitement in her voice. Could he really expect her to give that up for him? Although surely, she could be that happy at a school that's closer to him.

We belong together, he tells her silently. But SAMCRO's in his blood. The Club's his future…their future. And one day she'll believe that too.

For a good chunk of his life, there wasn't a person alive who Jax loved more than the take-no-shit, ass-kicking Queen of SAMCRO. Gemma Teller was much more than the woman who brought him into the world, more than the coolest mom a guy could have - she's always been his most stalwart champion and his rock, especially when they lost Tommy and JT and then when Mary Winston left town with Opie in tow. Since birth, no one's had his back or pushed him forward more aggressively, resolutely and lovingly than his mother.

But at this moment, he could've happily strangled her.

"What the hell were you thinking, Mom?" he snarls into the phone the second she accepts his collect call. After Tara's visit, he'd stormed to the jail's pay phone so fast that the guard had to scramble to keep up with him. "I don't fucking appreciate you trying to stir up shit between me and Tara."

"And hello to you," she drawls caustically. "I take it our favorite little college student paid you a visit. Didn't it go well?"

Gritting his teeth at the smugness in her voice, Jax forces himself not to rise to her baiting. It's none of his mother's goddamn business what happens between him and Tara. "Damn it, you…"

"Well if it wasn't a happy reunion, that's hardly my fault," she interrupts, huffing with feigned indignation. "I try to do you both a favor and this is the thanks I get."

Jax tightens his grip on the receiver, pretending it's Mommy Dearest's throat. "A favor?" he hisses. "You goddamn well knew I didn't want anyone to tell Tara that I'm locked up in here. But you fucking ratted me out anyway."

"Like I said - I did you both a favor…She called, bitching at me because you were in Ireland all by yourself and that no one knew how to reach you. Well I just had to ease that pretty little brain of hers - isn't that a good thing? Besides you didn't think you could keep your little bullshit secret from her forever, did you?"

"Listen Mom…"

"No Jackson, you listen - it took me less than five minutes with her to see that she doesn't belong with us. I knew it years ago when Opie brought her into our lives, and I know it for a goddamn fact now. A girl like that won't be happy in this life, and you'll both be miserable if you try to make her choose it. It's a distraction that you don't need, Jax. The Club needs to be your first and only priority…it's your future."

Jax closes his eyes as he struggles for patience; no way he can lose his shit here in front of the guards. Not when freedom's only a few weeks away. "I know my priorities, Mom. But you need to know this: Tara is not your concern," he growls through clenched teeth. "Just stay out of my shit."

Not that he thought for one goddamn second that she'd listen.

"So was that Opie's Old Lady that came to see you yesterday?" Otto dribbles a basketball - once, twice - before launching it towards the basket. And misses the rim by a mile.

"Christ, you suck man." Jax shakes his head then watches sourly as a freak-show skinhead from the opposing team retrieves the ball and easily nets the winning shot. Turning back to Otto, he scowls at the other man. "And she's NOT Opie's Old Lady."

Flashing a fuck-you smirk, Otto congratulates their opponents by flipping them the double bird then saunters away, forcing Jax to stalk after him. "Just making polite conversation." Otto shrugs. "Guess I was surprised to see her visiting you. I mean she's a hot piece and all, but I thought you'd want better than Opie's seconds."

Rage explodes inside him like a fucking a-bomb, and before he can stop himself, Jax swings a fist at his Brother's face. Fuck trying to be a model prisoner determined not to spend more time in jail than necessary - no one, no one talks shit about Tara like that and gets to live. He doesn't give a goddamn fuck how much time they add to his sentence, Otto's got to bleed.

But a veteran of a million fist fights, Otto ducks easily then pulls him in a headlock. Through the red mist coating his vision, Jax watches Otto assure a suspicious guard that they're just horsing around - smiling innocently until the guard walks away.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Otto hisses in his ear as Jax struggles to escape the other man's iron grip. "You can't pull that shit here or we'll both get a month in solitary…for starters. And I got shit I gotta do."

"Let. Go. of Me…" Jax finally breaks free then glares murderously at his "friend" as sanity slowly returns. "Tara's none of your fucking business," he snarls; it's as much a warning as a statement of fact. "You ever talk like that about her again, and I'll kill you."

"Whoa there, tough guy." Otto tosses his hands up in surrender. "Meant no insult. You know I like Tara, she's a good kid. And if you two are…uh…together, then good for you."

Jax eyes him skeptically as he rubs the back of his neck. To clear the air, he decides to talk about something else - although still another sore spot. "You never did tell me whether you got the orders from Clay. What do we need to do for the Cacuzzas?" He'd meant to ask Otto about it last night in the mess hall, but a few Members of the Grim Bastards decided to join them at the table so there was no chance to talk privately.

Before Otto can answer, a real fight breaks out in the yard between one of the asshole skinheads that beat him and Otto at basketball and some massive black dudes. Fuck, that won't end well. The other inmates surround the combatants in an orange mob - spurring them on with violent, profanity-laced shouts of encouragement and helpful suggestions for inflicting the most excruciating pain possible.

It's not until other skinheads decide to jump in to help their friends, who're getting the shit stomped out of them by the younger, deadlier Wilt-Fucking-Chamberlain clones, that the guards finally intervene. The incompetent pricks swarm in with guns drawn and order everyone to lie face-down on the ground while the medical staff checks on a pulverized, unconscious Nazi - who's probably fucked for life or mercifully dead, judging from his bashed in skull and the sickening angle of his neck.

In disgust, Jax turns his head; even Otto's ugly-ass face would be a preferable view. Except Otto's nowhere in sight. Nor was he at the mess hall for dinner that night or locked in his cell at lights out.

The next day, Jax learns from another inmate that the guards discovered the bloody body of Franco Tortomasi, the youngest son of one of Jimmy Sr's rivals - a small, yet razor sharp knife jammed into his throat. The dead man also had a St. James medal stuffed in his mouth; Jax knew enough about the Cacuzzas to recognize Jimmy Sr.'s MO of warning other families to stay off his turf. Shit, Otto must've seen an immediate opportunity to execute Clay's orders while the guards were occupied breaking up the yard fight.

But unfortunately for Otto, someone saw him leave the yard with Franco right before the race war broke out.

So when Jax was finally released after serving six long months in County, he walked out alone.

Needless to say, they canceled the welcome home party - with Otto still locked up and his freedom in jeopardy, no one felt like celebrating. Least of all Jax, who can't shake the clawing guilt that he should've done something to help Otto - although he's not sure what that could've been since his Brother had kept him in the dark about Clay's plan to help the Cacuzza's. Maybe he was afraid Jax would try to talk him out of it.

Growing up in the Club, violence's deep-rooted in Jax's DNA; hell, he's always game to beat the shit out of assholes who deserve it. But murder…Christ. He knows unleashing Mayhem's sometimes a necessary part of life with SAMCRO, and he'd gladly end anyone to protect his family, his Club…and Tara - shit, he'd fucking disembowel anyone who hurt her. However, executing some random punk as a favor for a business associate - that's fucked up.

"Bad news." Clay stalks out of the Chapel, where he'd been holed up on the phone for almost an hour, and motions to the Prospect to pour him a drink. Although there's no party, the remaining SAMCRO members opted to huddle inside the Clubhouse to await further news on Otto. "I talked to Unser - he got the update on Otto from his contact at County. Sanwa sheriffs investigating the case think they can link the Tortomasi hit back to Otto."

"How?" Piney demands. "I thought the snitch the guards talked to just saw Otto leave the yard with Tortomasi. That don't mean shit. And Otto wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave behind fingerprints on anything incriminating."

"Maybe the cops found a witness who saw Otto do it?" Tig interjects. "Some dumbshit looking for a deal and doesn't know how bad ratting could be to his health."

Clay grunts in frustration. "Hell, that'd be easier 'cause we could take care of some rat inside." He gulps downs his shot then signals for another. "But Unser's contact didn't know shit about what they had on Otto - just that they're fingering him for the hit and that the higher ups are being tight-lipped about everything."

"Or maybe they found the book," Bobby adds quietly, his accusing eyes fixed on Clay.

Jax wrinkles his brows in confusion; what the fuck does a book have to do with anything? "What are you talking about? What book?"

But before anyone could answer him, Gemma slams through the front door, wild fury in her dark eyes. "I can't fucking find Unser," she shrieks. "The goddamn sheriffs arrested Luann!"

"What?!" Clay thunders, hopping off his barstool to grab her arms while the other Members roar with disbelief. "When?"

Gemma thrusts him away angrily. "Just now. I was with her at their house when those bastards just barged in with warrants to arrest her and to search all their shit. The cops know, Clay. They know about the book."

At Clay's silence, Jax can't help but notice the other Club Members darting worried glances at each other. "What?" he snaps. Screw this secrecy bullshit - he just spent six months of his life in lock-up for SAMCRO, these assholes need to fucking respect his patch. "What is this goddamn book?"

"Cacuzza special," Bobby finally responds grimly. "Jimmy Sr. gave us some old book - with one of his custom blades and the St. James medal hidden inside. Clay gave it to Luann so she could bring it to Otto on visiting day. She told the guards that Otto's grandpa was dying and wanted him to have the book before the bank took his house and sold everything. Probably flashed some tit to seal the deal."

And that didn't sound batshit crazy? The guards at County may not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but they're not all fucking brain dead either. Lighting a cigarette, Jax scowls at Clay through the smoke, disgusted that SAMCRO's leader would take such a stupid risk. What if a guard with even a whit of competence had inspected that book? They would've locked up Luann on the spot. Although they've got her now.

Chibs shakes his head ruefully. "Otto probably had to take the book apart to find the knife. That's what the guards must've found. And since Luann brought it to him…"

"If that stupid bitch had just done what she was told, this wouldn't have happened," Gemma screeches, pacing madly across the floor. "It's her fault that Luann's in trouble."

Jax stares at his mom as confusion turns to realization then to rage. "Jesus Christ…You meant to drag Tara into this shit?" His eyes narrow to ice blue slits. "The day she came to visit me in jail, Tara said you wanted her to come here first to pick up something…a present you wanted to give me. It was that fucking book…with a goddamn murder weapon inside!"

His hands ball into tight fists to keep from strangling his mother or pounding Clay into a bloody pulp. "That's why you told her I was in jail in the first place - wasn't it, Mom? Because you knew she'd want to come see me…so you could set her up."

"Well it's what you want, isn't it?" Gemma fires back, getting in his face. "You want her to be your Old Lady? Then she becomes part of this. We're all one big, happy family here, Jackson. Everyone does their part to help the Club, you know that."

"Tara wouldn't have gotten hurt," Clay rationalizes, as if trying to diffuse Jax's escalating temper. "No one would've suspected a college honor roll student of doing anything illegal. She brings her boyfriend a book - a perfectly normal gift for an inmate who spends so much time in the jail library. Nobody has to know that you'd give the book to Otto. Those dumbass guards would have never made that connection."

Bile churns in Jax's stomach at the thought of unsuspecting Tara bringing a mobster's knife into a jail where it'd be used to slice open a man's throat. Christ. "You guys knew about this?" He glares at Opie and Piney, two men who'd once been the closest thing to a family she had. "How could you let these fuckers plan to do that to her? If she'd been caught, the guards would've thrown her in jail, too."

Opie glances over at his dad, who remains stubbornly silent as he scowls at Clay and Gemma. "Clay's right," he finally mumbles, staring glumly at his shoes. "The guards never would've suspected her, Bro."

"Christ," Jax mutters, skewering his Mother and Brothers with a fury-soaked glare. Shaking his head, he stalks towards the door, convinced that if he stayed one more goddamn minute, he'd kill everyone in the room.

Through the roaring in his ears, he can hear his Gemma shouting his name again and again - louder and louder - ordering him to come back. But he ignores her, ignores all of them as he stomps the path to his bike. He's got to get the fuck away from here, from them.

As the Harley roars with life, Jax guns the engine and races out of the parking lot. It's not until he hits the open road with the rush of wind battering his face that he finally forces himself to relax. A vision of those sparkling green eyes engulfs his mind, replacing the furious red haze; the sound of her melodic voice drowns out the memory of the ugly confrontation back at the Clubhouse.

"…You and me…I want that."

"I want us to be together, and I'll go anywhere with you…but not Charming, I can't live that life."

Gritting his teeth, Jax punches up the Harley's speed. A flat tire, a fucking flat tire - that's what kept Tara from stopping at the Clubhouse to pick up Cacuzza's book. She'd been too anxious to see him, too worried about missing any part of visiting day that she blew off Gemma's request. Who the fuck knows - if not for that tiny quirk of fate, Tara could've been an accessory to a murder. Her bright future - the one she's been dreaming about her whole life, busting her ass every day to realize - destroyed forever. And for what?

Because she loves him.

"I can't be Gemma or Luann…"

Fuck, he doesn't want that either. She's nothing like any of the women of SAMCRO or anyone else he knows - it's part of the reason he loves her so much. And he wouldn't change anything about her. Swallowing hard, he realizes that the MC life would transform her into one of them eventually. His mother's right about that; everyone does their part to help the Club. As his Old Lady - his future Queen - one day Tara might be expected to help him kill someone like Luann helped Otto. He's not sure he can live with himself if he destroyed her like that.

"You have to make choice."