Author's Note

Sorry about the long wait for the update! I write these on chapter updates on my phone, which allows me to write wherever and whenever. I've had this chapter done for about two weeks now, and I couldn't figure out how to end it. Well, now I have. It's a cliffhanger!

This chapter is also very long. I was planning on breaking it up into two parts, but I kind of wanted to wrap up the arrest & fight storyline to bring in something new, hence the cliffhanger. On my phone this was 10 pages, but it is ten pages filled with smut, confusion, flirting, kissing, anger, violence, and love.

I'm having some serious Jax withdrawals! I miss seeing him on my tv every Tuesday night. But what I'm really having is very bad Jax & Tara withdrawals.

I know they both put each other through so much shit and drama, and he cheated on her, and they lied to each other, and it was toxic…. But I really do believe they loved each other so much. And I do believe that a person is better when they're connected to the person they're supposed to be with. And Jax and Tara were made for each other.

We had already missed the whole day, and neither of us cared.

Normally, I would care. But mental health days are important, especially important to an academic career. And sometimes people just need a day to not think, a day to unwind from the stress.

And while today was full of stress and anxiety, it was also filled with love and truth.

Jax and I know the truth of our relationship, we know the reality behind our struggles. We both understand the harsh realities we have yet to face concerning our social differences.

We both know the truth of who we are as a couple. What the immature girls of Charming High School, think we are, isn't what we are. They don't know the truth, but we do.

They don't think Jackson is capable of loving someone, but I know the truth.
They think Jax is just with me for sex, but I know the truth.
They think he would leave me if I suddenly became pregnant, but I know the truth.

And that's all that matters. None of the bullshit and the rumors matter, as long as we remain truthful and honest with each other, I'm confident that we can stay strong, that our relationship can become stronger and last through it all.

The final bell rang, and we finally stood up, our legs shaky from sitting against the back wall of the library all day.

He stood up first, to grab my hand and pull me up. He then reached for my bag full of books and notebooks, being a gentlemen so I don't have to carry the heavy bag.

"Thanks." I smile up at him, happy with the way our conversation went. I'm not naïve, I know we have more to discuss, but for right now, I'm happy. And that happiness is all I care about, and the fact that Jax is the reason for my happiness.

"I'm all about the romance baby." He was looking down at me, and gave me a grin, my favorite grin, that showed how happy and giddy he felt. My heart swooned at the sight of this boyish grin.

He kissed my forehead for a quick second, grabbed my hand and lead me out of the library. We made our way towards the parking lot.

I had forgotten about the petty high school drama for a little, too focused on him and our relationship. Even though the girls are the main reason for my anger, after we made up we began talking about useless and unimportant things and it took my mind off things, which was probably his plan all along.

And as soon as I walked out of the safe library doors, all the pain and embarrassment came back to memory like a flood.

My breathing shortened and became heavy. All the stress and anxiety of having everyone talking about me was making it hard for me to breathe. I hate being in the limelight.

I found myself naturally hiding behind Jax, so his body was sheltering mine. I did so without thinking, almost like breathing. In such a short period of time, he has become my rock. I most definitely wouldn't be this emotionally stable, well before this incident of my arrest, if it wasn't for him and his above average listening skills. I go to him for everything, to love me, to listen to me, to protect me, to vent to, to cry to. Jax has become my God- given solace.

And he instantly noticed too.

Most men are oblivious to women and their needs, and their surroundings, but not my Jax. If there was one thing I could thank Gemma for, besides bailing me out of jail, it would be for raising Jax to be a sensitive man and sensitive to women's needs. Whether that be for a shoulder to cry on, when a woman is craving affection, when a woman is feeling threatened and unsafe or when a woman is in need of a friend. He picks up on all of my emotions and immediately responds in the very way he can. He certainly can't read my mind, but he picks up on my emotions and how I'm feeling instantly, sometimes before I do, and instantly comforts me.

I think that's why I'm not scared of the motorcycle club or the manly men who are members of the club. The members may torture and become violent on deserving men, but they refuse to harm women and children. And they often go out of their way to protect the women and children, hence the safety lockdowns. Some of them, not all of them, have families they belong to and will go to extraordinary measures to protect them. They treasure their Old Ladies and their kids. These men, they love hard and they aren't afraid to show it.

Jax stopped walking to talk to me directly, "Don't show them any 's what they want."

I nodded. I was scared again, and he knew it. "Hey, I'm here this time. And I will make sure that no one will hurt you. I promise. Don't show them any fear, Tara." I nodded again, because I knew my voice would be too shaky to speak correct English.

He reached for my hand and squeezed. Don't show them any fear.

I took another deep breath in and tried to hide and control my fear. I believed in Jax and his word, and more importantly, I trusted him. If he makes a promise, I know he'll do everything in his power to keep it. His word is his honor, his pride, his dignity. He wouldn't say something if he didn't mean it. I know that and I believe that. If he says that he will protect me no matter the extent and that no one will hurt me, I believe it. Because I believe in him.

I wanted to look down and hide my face from the ever-growing crowd, but I wanted to be strong. I wanted to show Jax that I was strong, that I could handle it. So I picked my head up and stared straight down the hall, pretending as if the staring students didn't exist.

We kept walking, and with each step we took, we became stronger, more united. It was a liberating feeling, proving people wrong.

I could hear faint whispers amongst the crowd, they were faint and hushed, but I could hear them. And if I could hear them, I knew Jax could hear them.

What people don't know about Jax, is his instinct to protect his family. He has strong urges to protect any he cares about from danger, whether it is a low threat level like the girls at school or a threat from a rival motorcycle club where it puts the whole family on lockdown. His instincts are high, and his instincts are fast and reactive.

I knew if Jax heard firsthand of girls and our other peers were spreading rumors about me/us, or were harassing me or our relationship, that he would immediate take action, to prevent it from ever happening again.

And normally I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful that he always makes me feel safe. I rarely feel uncomfortable and threatened with him. Isn't that ironic?

I feel safe with almost-outlaw who carries a knife around his belt, who rides a Harley, who will most likely be a high school dropout, smokes, has tattoos and is in line to be initiated into a violent motorcycle club. Not with some preppy, goody-too-shoes kind of a guy, but with a bad boy. Life is funny, isn't it?

I noticed his face scrunch up, a sign that Jax is more than furious, and he squeezed my hand harder. I knew if that people didn't stop this harassment soon, Jax was going to make sure it wouldn't end well for them.

I could see the entrance to the parking lot now, I was silently praying that no one said anything. I just wanted to get on the back of his motorcycle, drive across the country and never come back. But I know life doesn't work that way. You have to face life's problems head on.

So I squeezed back.

We were five steps from the entrance to the parking lot when some boy decided to be an idiot, "Hey Tara, if you're ever looking a good time with a real man, you can call me anytime. You won't get arrested with me." He said with a smirk as he handed me a piece of paper with his number written on it.

Oh. My. God. I'm mortified! Who says that to a girl? Don't they have any respect for women? And for women that are obviously in a relationship?

But really I wasn't worried about me, I would never call this douche-bag, even though he was good looking. My Jackson was much better, in all departments. I wasn't worried about me, I was worried about this guy. Who strangely enough has never talked to me before this day. I didn't even know his name, how did he know mine?

I just knew that Jax was going to beat his face into the ground. He was more than furious, he was livid. Jax may do some dangerous, rebellious things but he never disrespects women, he never catcalls them. According to him, the girls always approached him, not the other way around. Yeah, okay sure babe. No, Jax would never hit on a woman like that. He has to much respect and dignity for that. Ugh, I love this man.

"What did you say to me?" I yelled at him.

I could see Jackson giving me a strange look out of the corner of my eye.

"Just call me later if ya wanna talk, babe." He winked at me, and I wanted to puke.

"What makes you think I would ever want to call you? Let alone sleep with you?" I yelled even louder.

"You're tellin' me you'd rather be with this loser than go out with me? You must be crazy."

"Yeah, that's right. I only date real men."

I turned to Jax, grabbed his luscious blonde hair and pulled his lips towards mine. The kiss, what was meant to be for show and tell, quickly turned into a kiss of passion and lust. All I wanted to do was to pull him in deeper, closer to me. I could tell the kiss, and the PDA caught Jax off guard. He knows I hate to show affection in public, but in this moment I really couldn't care less. I wanted to show everyone that he was mine, and only mine. I missed him, I missed his warm body against mine, and I definitely missed his good kissing lips. Without even thinking, my hands traveled to his slightly toned biceps and ran over the forming muscles. Which was such a turn on, damn.

After a minute, I backed away, tired of giving people a show. It was enough for them to realize we were happily still together and yet I proved my dominance as well. And kissing Jax was never a bad thing.

"Do it. Go ahead, I know you want to."

He gave me another weird look, and then caught my drift. He took a step towards me, and quickly kissed my forehead.

In one quick motion, Jax went from standing right in front of me to launching his fist into this guy's jaw. The whole fight was a blur for me, all I could really notice was Jax's long blonde hair flying in the wind.

And then I heard another cracking sound. Instead of cringing, and turning away from the fight, I took a step closer, to see what Jax was doing to this asshole. I was becoming less afraid of the violence that he prevails into people.

I wasn't sure what to think of my tiny gesture, maybe I was less afraid of this portrayal of violence because it was about me, because this boy was disrespectful to me, because he deserved it, because he needs to learn how to treat women. I wasn't sure what to think about my fear of danger and violence slowly deteriorating.

I was brought back into reality, and out of my train of thought, with the sound of the growing crowds roaring. Some were yelling, some girls were screaming, some were cheering Jax on, dying to see a fight, and some kids were just wondering what the hell was going on.

"Jax, stop! Stop!" I yelled, quickly realizing that Jax had more than given him what he deserved. I wanted this jerk to pay for his rude comments, but not at the expense of Jax being suspended. Bigger picture.

"Jax, stop! He's not worth it! This is exactly what they want! Jax, please stop!" I pleaded.

I didn't care what people thought about me. People could think and say whatever they wanted about me, within in reason without getting beaten, and I wouldn't care. I know who I am, I know the life I live, the people I choose to be my family, and the morals I have. I try to let it roll of the shoulders, to not be so hot-headed anymore.

But, when someone insults my family, the people I love, that's when I have a problem. When people start insulting her for wanting to be with me, that's when I have a problem.

People can say what they want about me, but when it comes to Tara, they better be ready to get their ass kicked into the pavement.

I will not let Tara be harassed and bullied for choosing to date me, that's not right. She doesn't deserve that, and I won't let anyone hurt her because of being with me.

When someone insults my family, that's when I become hot headed, that's when all voice of reason disappears. I want to protect my family, no matter the cost. Protecting them is the most important value I have. It's my strongest moral. And once I start fighting, I can't stop. The anger of everything sits, until some idiot decides to offend my family, and then I just explode. I lose myself in the anger, the rest of the world disappears. I no longer hear sounds or screams, the anger completely taking over.

Once all that anger starts to be released into someone's face, I can't stop.

But her voice, hearing her scream, it pulls me away from the anger. It takes me back into reality. It brings back my morals. That angelic voice is the reason I can decide what is right from wrong. Her voice is the reason I want to be a better person; that scared, screaming voice is the only thing that can make me escape the controlling anger.

All my fists were hitting was his face, but all I could think about was Tara's arrest, Gemma's meddling, the rumors, seeing Tara cry. I had unleashed all of my anger into this kid.

"Jax, stop! He's not worth it! That's exactly what they want! Jax, please stop!" She yelled.

When I hear that voice through the anger and my fists, I stop.

I look down at the bleeding punk on the ground, he has a broken nose and now a locked jaw. My knuckles are bloody and my hands hurt like hell.

"Jax, stop, please!" She pleaded again, yelling louder.

And then I turned around, and see the fear in her eyes. She's crying. I'm scaring her; she may have told me to punch him for his comment, but she didn't tell me to knock him out. She doesn't seem as taken aback by the violence anymore, but she's never seen me doing this to another man, except her father.

And with that one look, all that anger fades away. Suddenly, the only thing I care about is that sad face.

I promised myself in that moment that I would never cause her to have that look of fear or pain in her eyes.

I looked back at the punk on the ground and slowly stood up. All eyes were on me, wondering what I was going to do next. Some of them were either envious of me, scared of me, or couldn't care less about me.

"Next time you want to insult my girl, think twice." I said, and then left, but not before spitting on the ground beside him.

As I started to walk away, towards the parking lot and Tara, the crowd began to disperse.

I walked straight up to Tara and cradled her into my arms, squeezing her tightly. As much as she needed me for comfort, I needed her for balance and clarity. I wrapped my arms around her, and all the stress of all the weight on my shoulders disappeared. I felt weightless.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see that. Let's go home." I whispered into her hair. And she nodded, agreeing. I looked back once more, and the twerp was still on the ground, barely able to move.

We were back at the clubhouse. Jax wanted to clean up his hands so Gemma wouldn't see.

This was the first time since our first "date" that I actually felt uncomfortable being at his clubhouse. I didn't know Gemma & all she was capable of back then, and now I know her too well and with all she's done to me, I feel out of place.

I know she blames me for her fight with Jax, but I know he was right. He never told me everything that was said, but I do know that Gemma was in the wrong. And it's my job as a supportive girlfriend, to support him through tough emotional crisis'.

We were back in one of the dorms in the clubhouse that Jax usually sleeps in. I honestly think he sleeps here more often than his actually bedroom. It's decorated, there are never touched school books here, SAMCRO memorabilia, and our picture is here on his nightstand.

I was lying on my stomach on his bed, passing time by scanning the motorcycle magazine that was on his nightstand. It's impossible to concentrate on homework at the MC, so I've learned to save it until we either go back to his house or mine.

"Is that Tara Knowles reading a motorcycle magazine? And people say you only read textbooks, if only they saw you right now." Jax joked as he made his way out the shower, wearing only a towel to cover his junk. When he walked back into the room, and I caught the sight of his wet and steamy toned abs, I swear I lost my breath.

I checked him up and down with my eyes, making too-obvious googly-eyes at the sexy body that Jax has. I must have been staring too long because,

"See something you like?" He teased.

"See you have abs like this and you wonder why every girl, including our teachers, think you're hot."

He took a few steps toward me, so he was leaning against the bed. To be on the same eye level, I stood on my knees.

"Oh, Im glad my girlfriend thinks I'm hot and sexy."

"I never said sexy, that was all made up in your imagination."

He grabbed my hand and traced it along the exterior of his muscular stomach, pausing for a millisecond on each ab. His hand, overlapping on top of mine, then slowly made its way up to his chest and over his pecs.

And then he said, ever so slowly, "So this isn't sexy to you…..?"

I closed my eyes, and then felt my hand travel to his flexed biceps and the muscles. I then touched his wet stomach with my other hand, my body craving to be touch his which unmistakably proved his point.

Further admitting his sexiness, I attacked his still-wet neck with my lips. Continuing my ruined game of suck-suck-kiss from the creek, where I noticed a hickey forming. And with this playful attack, I was going to make sure he left this room with a visibly hickey from me. Just call it marking my territory.

"Okay, so maybe you are a little sexy." I said, in between neck kisses.

I heard him stifle a laugh, and felt his manly hands gently cup my face and pull it towards his lips for a wet kiss, which was even more sexy. I immediately felt his tongue swirling against mine. His strong hands were running along my spine, making goose bumps appear everywhere on my skin. I dug my nails into his back, to stop myself from moaning out. That's gonna leave a mark.He moved his hands so they were now pulling up my shirt, and my hands traveled to his long locks, and I pulled on them: making him moan out.

"Told Ya!" He said as he pulled away from the kiss.

I pushed him back away from the bed , "Screw you!" My anger of course made him full of laughter and grins.

After a moment, I stepped off the bed, still shirtless, and walked the few stops over to him.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, and placed my head on his wet chest. And the moment I felt his arms cradle my body, I just felt immediate relief and love. "I mean, it's really your fault. You should know better than to walk out all wet and steamy with just a towel on."

He just kept on laughing, but I wasn't finished.

"I know I got freaked out today, but thank you for defending me and my honor. I didn't even think that guy knew my name, and today he wants in my pants. Anyways, it's nice being protected, so thank you."

It took him a minute to respond, "I know it scares you, the violence, but I would do it again and again. I told you I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." I felt his lips kiss my hair.

"I love you."

This would be the first time we both admit it, at the same time, in a non-drunk or non-crying situation. I could feel my heart racing.

"I love you, too."

I stood in place for a minute, breathing in his scent of shower wash and leather before I really spoke my mind.

"Don't be mad, but I think you should apologize to Gemma."

"What the hell?"

"Let me explain. I agree with everything you said to her, or what I heard you say to her. And I appreciate you defending me. But she's your only family, and she needs you right now. She needs your support, she needs your blessing to be happy with Clay."

"You know how I feel about that guy, Tara."

"I know, I don't like him either. But your mom does, your mom wants to be his Old Lady just like you want me to be yours. All I'm saying is, family is family. I know you love her, and I don't want your relationship with her ruined over this. I'm not saying apologize for what you said, I'm saying apologize for how you said. I mean, I wasn't there but I heard at least 20 f-bombs from the patio."

As I ended my small rant, I felt his arms squeeze my waist tighter. I could feel the hurt and pain he was feeling over this, and I just wanted to take it all away.

"I support you, and I'll support whatever you choose."

I could feel his breathing become easier and less heavy. I knew that once he and Gemma reconciled his heart would become less heavy and he would be less stressed. I knew he was going to start prospecting with SAMCRO soon, and having Clay already hate Jax wouldn't be a good way to start off his prospect year.

Truthfully, we'd only been dating for five months now. I knew our relationship became intense and serious very quickly, and we fell in love quickly. With all the drama and bad shit that Jax and I had been handed during our courtship, it feels like we've been dating for years. I don't think most couples deal with arrests in the first few months of dating or overbearing mothers or abusive fathers. What should have broken us from the start, only made us stronger. And if I could, I do it all over again. Yet, with all that we had been handed in the recent months, I just wanted this feud to be over. I wanted Jax and Gemma to be getting along. With them fighting, it brings so much unwanted tension into the club. I'm tired of feeling unwanted in the clubhouse by Gemma and having all the members and crow-eaters stare at me whenever I walk into the room. If Jax was really going to start prospecting, I wanted it to be started the right way; not with Clay already hating him. I don't want Jax straying from his family because of me. He was raised with strong family ties, and with me now having no ties, I believe family is important. Family is everything, and I know he feels the same. He needs Gemma, and she needs him.

"Go do whatever you gotta do, I'll wait here. Take a nap or make muffins or something. Take care of this situation with Gemma."

"If you're going to be sleeping in my bed, I'm going to be in it too, darling." He said, pulling my hips closer to his.

"Stop being such a boy and go. Boyfriends who don't listen don't get to see their girlfriend naked."

"Are you saying…" His face lit up like a Christmas tree when he realized what I was really hinting at.

"Go! Go! Get out of here!"

I half laughed and yelled as I pushed him out of the room. When he finally left, I closed the door sat down back on the bed, flipping through the magazine. The sound of a door opening distracted me, and when I saw Jax walk through I almost yelled at him.

"I forgot something."

He walked through the door and placed his lips on mine. He gently cupped my face, like he normally does, and planted his seductive lips onto mine. It was a romantic and innocent kiss. One out of pure desire to be connected.

He walked towards the door, but not before turning around with his boyish grin smacked across his face.

"Laters, babe." He said while he winked.

My heart fluttered.

If love was always like this, full of surprises and sweet kisses and support and gentle suggestions and flirting, I never wanted to be out of love. Loving Jax is just so easy. Any person who says otherwise is a God damned fool. I don't know what girl wouldn't fall in love with him, I'm just glad they never did. If this is what life with Jax is like, this sort of butterflies-in-my-stomach happiness, then I always want this kind of happiness with him.

I could feel my heart racing, all because of one boy. One boy that is all mine.

Once I got my heart rate back to normal, I began to flip through the magazine. And I quickly got bored reading some 'journalist's' opinion on which bike was better for long rides. And with Jax gone talking to Gemma, I finally had his room to myself, which meant snooping. I hate snooping, I hate the idea of a person keeping secrets from their partner. And even more than that, I hate when a person snoops threw their partner's room, deliberately looking for trouble.

I wasn't like that. Jax had his life, and I had mine. He wasn't forced to tell me everything about his past, he sure as hell doesn't know everything about mine. But I was curious to know him better.

I wanted to find old yearbooks, look through his favorite records, look at the books he had yet doesn't read, not find old love letters or old souvenirs from past girls. Normally I do this with Jax laying on his bed, relaxing and I feel like I'm being preyed upon. I now have the chance to do this with leisure.

His room at the clubhouse is different that his room at the house; this room is more personal. Gemma makes sure his bedroom is nice and tidy, there are no posters on the wall, no SAMCRO memorabilia; just a picture of him and John Teller, another of him and Thomas, and a picture of his on his birthday on his nightstand. But his room at the clubhouse has Harley and Dinah motorcycle posters on the wall, SOA and SAMCRO memorabilia is all over, his bed is hardly ever made, the only two pictures in frames in his clubhouse room are of the Teller family on Thomas' last birthday, and of Jax and I at the Golden Gate Bridge.

I walked over to the bookcase on the far left wall, and took my time looking at each toy motorcycle, unread books, binders, etc. Whether or not Jax read them, he still the ought they were special enough to be kept in his room, which was always locked when he wasn't here. The only books that interested me were on the bottom shelf, one read The History of Sons of Anarchy: Redwood Original in Pictures which sounded very interesting, and the other said The life of John Teller, Rest In Peace. While I wanted to read both, the life of the mysterious John Teller seemed more intriguing.

It was a scrapbook that Gemma made, starting with baby pictures. The pictures were worn, and had clearly been mishandled with torn edges and fingerprint smudges, and even more clearly, tear stains. It had pictures of when Gemma and John were dating, their wedding, their first family photo with Jax, the original 9 of SOA, a picture of John and Jax with his first motorcycle toy, a picture of John resting against the infamous motorcycle, a picture of Jax with the original 9, a picture of John and Clay in front of the Teller-Morrow garage on opening day. It showcased John Teller's life as the mysterious leader of SAMCRO. I was amazed by the similarities that John and Jackson had, a chip off the old block.

As I turned the page, it read Outside Friends & Family along the top, meaning friends outside the club. Since most of these pictures were from the late 1970's and early '80's, I only recognized a few people. Our school principal, Mr. Woodrow had his arm draped over John Teller at a local charity fundraiser, which shocked me. But it didn't shock me as much as the picture below it that read: The Tellers & the Knowles 1983.

Gemma stood behind John, as he was sitting against his bike, with one arm draped over his chest. And there was my mother, matching Gemma's serious look, standing in front my father with his arm wrapped around her waist. The foursome stood in front of the clubhouse, along the line of member motorcycle.

I was in disbelief and denial. Gemma knew my mom? Were they friends? How did they know each other? How could my dad benefit a man like John Teller? Was my dad a SAMCRO member? Does Jax know and is he keeping this from me? Why hasn't Gemma told me that she knows my mother?

A million questions were racing through my mind. All my body wanted to do was run over to Gemma in the garage and demand answers about the photograph from 1983. I wanted answers, I wanted the truth, I wanted my mother back. But my mind was smarter. Gemma wouldn't help me when we were at crossroads, she had to forgive Jax first. I had to wait.

And knowing that this woman who I had come to know was friends with my dead mother, and lied to me about it, tore me to pieces. I wanted to hit something, I had so much anger. I wanted to throw this book against the wall; part of me wanted to punch Gemma in the face for lying to me for five months. What secret was she hiding?

But all I could do was cry. All I could do was cry and wait.