AN: So this is it, the end of the story (along with the Epilogue). Thanks so much for sticking with me!
Everything I know about cocaine, I learned from TV or Googling, so sorry if something looks weird.
PS – To the Guest reviewer who was concerned about a flashback in the last chapter of Tara taking newborn Thomas to visit Jax in prison: I completely agree with you. That said, the scene was inspired by the pre-S4 appisode entitled "Second Son." If you haven't seen it, you should definitely watch it online because it's fantastic.
CHAPTER 20: BEANNACHD DIA DHUIT
"Goddamn it! I knew this would happen." Snarling in angry frustration, Jarry presses the phone closer to her ear so she can hear Cane's response over the pounding in her skull - oh what she would give to be able to crack some fucking skulls right now…starting with Jax Teller's. "We don't have time for this stupid shit!"
Closing her eyes, she struggles to rein in her temper; screaming at her deputy won't get them shit. "Tell Martinez and Eglee to shadow those guys. The rest of the team stays on the Amber Alert. I'll give Stockton PD a heads up."
She tosses her phone onto her desk then looks up to meet Nick Reese's angry blue glare. Channeling a battered, bad-tempered Brad Pitt fresh from Fight Club, he'd stormed into her office and demanded an update on Thomas Teller's kidnapping. But before she could tell him anything, Cane had called with his annoying-as-fuck-news.
"What the hell…you're taking people off the Amber Alert? Are you out of your fucking mind?" He lashes at her in furious disbelief. "We need every goddamn badge out there looking for that kid!"
Shaking her head, she smirks sardonically. "Yeah, well now we're not the only ones…Apparently SAMCRO's called for reinforcements. According to Cane, Marcus Alvarez and about a dozen of his Mayan amigos just rolled into Charming. They're with Teller now, plotting fuck knows what…"
She rubs her forehead to soothe the stressful throbbing. "It's going to be hard enough to find this kid, but now we got to deal with all these assholes playing MC detectives. I can't have this county turn into fucking Guantanamo Bay with SAMCRO and the Mayans doing the waterboarding. This is exactly what Patterson was afraid Teller would do when his wife got killed...I should've listened to her and locked up that son-of-a-bitch."
"Well so far he hasn't done anything," Reese snaps at her. "And now his focus is on finding his son, which is what you should be doing - not worrying about a bunch of thugs on motorcycles. One. More. Time - what's your progress on finding the boy? So fucking help me - if you say you're nowhere, I'm calling in the FBI."
Jarry raises an eyebrow at him, her suspicious-cop senses tingling once again; over the past few days, she's started to suspect that the Chief Deputy Attorney General's involvement in the Roosevelt-Knowles murder case hasn't been motivated solely by political gain. His completely out-of-character open distress over what happened to the Teller boys, not to mention the fresh Batman band-aids adorning his face, all point to something else entirely. She plucks a piece of paper off her desk and shoves it at the insufferable asshole. "From the vehicle description and partial plate number you gave us, we were able to trace the registration back to Colette Jane."
"What?" Reese snatches the paper from her hand and glares down at the document in confusion. "She got killed in a jail fight. You think one of her johns had a beef against Teller? Why go after his kids? Anyone with a damn brain would know what kind of heat that would bring - from both sides of the law…"
Jarry notes with interest how he crushes the paper in his white-knuckled grip. "I've got people looking into who else might've had access to that car. But shit, it could be a long list…the madam opened her legs to nearly every dick in Sanwa County. The question is why any of them would want to hurt Jax Teller through his family."
Reese leaps out of his chair and starts pacing, his jaw clenched as if trying to control his temper. "What about the other partner in the drug business? The ex-cop? You said he's dirty. What if he didn't like the fact Teller fucked his favorite whore? Or somehow connected Teller to her murder? After all, she might've had motive for killing Tara…and no alibi."
Tara…Jarry's ears perk up; there it is again…so subtle that she hadn't noticed initially - the slight softening, almost caressing, tone in his voice when referring to the late Dr. Knowles by her first name. Most people probably wouldn't have heard the slight inflection, but Jarry's always prided herself on not letting anything escape her notice; it's what's kept her alive and kicking ass all these years. But now's not the time to grill Reese on his motivations; no they have that poor kid to find first.
"Charles Barosky…yes, since he was Colette's partner and long-time 'friend,' he probably would've had access to the vehicle. And he loosely matches the description of the man who kidnapped Thomas Teller." She holds up a hand to silence Reese before he starts raging at her again. "Unfortunately, we issued an APB for Barosky's arrest a couple of days ago but haven't been able to find him. I suspect he got word from his cronies in the Stockton PD that we have a jail cell waiting for his ass and got the hell out of Dodge. He could be in Mexico or Canada by now…it doesn't make sense that he'd risk his freedom, not to mention his fucking life, just for some petty revenge against Teller. Charlie's a crooked son-of-a-bitch, but he's not stupid. Far from it."
Reese stalks towards her; bracing his hands on her desk, he leans in until she can see nothing but the cold fury in his eyes. "Then I suggest you get your ass out of that goddamn chair and go out and do your GODDAMN JOB! Talk to Barosky's cop friends…find out where the motherfucker is - I'm sure at least one of them will know. I don't give a shit what kind of 'persuasion' you need to use, I'll back you. But you find him, you hear me? You find him and you find Thomas or the only badge you'll be wearing is the one they give to crossing guards in Yuba City. Are we fucking clear on this?"
Jarry glares at him in silence for a heartbeat before nodding. "Crystal," she hisses through gritted teeth, slowly rising to her feet.
Picking up her phone, she shoves it into her pocket as she watches him turn to leave. "You never did tell me why you were hanging out in the hospital parking lot this morning." She calls after him. "Or why you're so unusually distraught over this kidnapping…I hate to say it, but Amber Alerts aren't exactly uncommon; I know you've prosecuted your share of child abductions. There must be something really special about the Teller boys… I don't know - maybe something about their mother?"
Reese stiffens and whirls around to face her, his expression thunderous. Bullseye.
"I'm not sure what you're implying, Lieutenant," he seethes coldly. "But in California, all Amber Alerts should be treated seriously. If caring about what happens to your constituents - especially the young ones - is such an alien concept, then maybe selecting you as Sheriff Roosevelt's successor was a mistake."
Oh yeah, she definitely hit a nerve; one that could cost her job, but it's too late to stop now. "Maybe so…You know, I was told that I was hand-picked for this job - that the Governor and the Attorney General thought I would be best suited to continue Eli's work until the next election. And that I'd have a sure-fire chance of getting elected if I caught the killer - or killers - of a decorated, dedicated public servant and a young mother of two young children. Now I wonder if the fact that Eli was my mentor and close friend had any bearing on that decision…"
Crossing his arms, Reese pins her with a chilling stare as if daring her to go any further. She wonders if anyone's ever challenged his motives before - and if they survived it professionally. Outwardly, Nick Reese may appear to be a charming, charismatic man of the people - having been groomed for leadership since birth - but Jarry knows what a heartless bastard the man could be. In addition to hundreds of incarcerated criminals, there were countless fellow attorneys, members of law enforcement and former co-workers who could claim that encounters with the ruthless side of Nick Reese had scarred them for life.
She pinches the bridge of her nose at the thought of career suicide. Fuck it, if he fires her on the spot - so be it; she's fucking sick of dealing with this asshole and his goddamn state-sized ego. "If I think back to everything that's happened on this case - what stands out is how you made sure we focused on Eli's murder, even though Dr. Knowles was clearly the primary victim. You knew Patterson would jump at the chance of prosecuting a capital murder case - and you knew about my rage over his death and how I'd move the earth to find his killer…"
Jarry marches over to Reese until they're toe-to-toe, then tilts her head up to return his glare. "What did you think would happen, Nick? That I'd be so intent on finding Eli's killer that I'd be blind to all the other shit happening right in front of my face? Was I not supposed to notice that when we went to Teller's house the other night, he seemed to know you…even though you'd said you'd never met him before?"
Surprisingly, Reese's anger appears to ease up a few microscopic degrees as he regards her with an assessing, almost admiring glimmer in those icy blue eyes. "Interesting...Sheriff Roosevelt taught you well. Okay, Lieutenant…you find that little boy - safe and unharmed - and I'll tell you whatever you want to know." Then his features harden once again as he leans in to hiss in her ear. "But if anything happens to him - anything at all - I'll make your life a goddamn living hell."
"You are out of your goddamn mind!" Jax roars into the phone, gripping it so tightly that he almost expects it to shatter in his shaking hand. "It would be fucking suicide to hit that place in the middle of the day!"
As he listens to Barosky warn about the repercussions if his demands aren't met, Jax fights like hell to control his consuming rage; he can't afford to piss off the fucking prick and endanger Thomas any further. "All right! All right, goddamn it! Just don't hurt my son…Give him back to me unharmed, and I'll get you whatever the fuck you want. Please."
Barosky chuckles with satisfaction. "You see? We've always worked good together. You got two hours to make it happen; I'll call you then to give you directions about the exchange. And Jax…don't forget that I have eyes and ears all over this county. I'm a nice enough guy to let you bring in a few guys - the ones at your table - 'cause you're gonna need their help to take back what belongs to me. But you tell anyone else about our little deal - including your wetback friends or that bitch Sheriff and her fucking stooges - and well, let's just say it would be a tragic thing for this little guy to go out like his mother."
Jax's blood freezes, his heart careening into his throat as his brain painfully flashes to images of Tara's bloody body, of the autopsy photo of her fractured skull - and then of Barosky with a knife poised above small, defenseless Thomas. "No," he croaks hoarsely, grasping the table to avoid falling to his knees. "I won't…"
"That's good to know," Barosky replies smugly, obviously relishing his new-found power over Jax. "I heard all about what happened to her; what a fucking shitty way to die…" The sadistic bastard gleefully twists the dagger deeper into Jax's gut - into the gaping, bloody wound that will never heal. "I bet it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch..." He pauses deliberately, as if savoring Jax's anguished silence. "So I'm glad we understand each other - now get to it, your little boy's counting on you."
The line goes dead just as Jax loses the tenuous battle with his rage. Picking up the closest chair, he hurls it against the wall, then another and another until he's red-face and heaving amid a pile of broken, splintered wood.
Turning to face his Brothers, he tries to calm his ragged breathing. "That crazy bastard wants me to break into the evidence locker at the Sheriff's office and steal back all the drugs seized from Diosa - twenty fucking kilos of blow. He'll trade the shit for Thomas…we've got two hours until he calls back with the directions for the exchange."
"What the fuck, Jackie?" Chibs' eyes nearly bug out of his head. "We're supposed to just walk into cop central and pick up a couple dozen bricks of coke like fuckin' eggs at a grocery shop? Barosky's connected enough to know that he's demandin' the impossible."
"…although, he probably has a few ears on the ground over there," Bobby surmises. "There's an Amber Alert out for Thomas so most of the cops will be out looking for him…which could mean a bare bones crew in the building."
"Yeah, but that's not gonna include the guys guarding the evidence locker," Tig argues. "Although we get them out of the way, the drugs should be easy enough to find. I heard that nothing's changed in that place since Trammel was in charge…the good old days."
The red fog lifts from Jax's vision as the answer hits him - it could work, he tells himself as he quickly runs the plan scenarios in his head. Yeah, it could definitely fucking work. "Ok, I know what we have to do, but we got to work fast…starting with getting intel on all of Barosky's dirty cop friends."
"Are you sure about this?" Bobby asks as they drive his van to their destination. "I know we got to get Thomas back, but this seems like there's a better chance of us getting arrested and thrown in jail - for life. And that won't help your boy…either of your boys."
Jax shakes his head; he knows Bobby's right, but what choice does he have? His baby boy needs him. "Just stick to the plan, Bro. It'll work…it has to." Running a hand through his hair, he stares unseeing out the window. "How did this happen, man? How the fuck did we get here?"
"I ask myself that question every day," Bobby mutters, watching a convoy of Sanwa sheriff SUV's race down the opposite side of the freeway - more or less confirming his guess that they'd be breaking into a near-empty Sheriff's office. "Got no answers. Just a whole pile of shit I'd've done differently."
Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Jax stares down at his wedding ring. "Yeah."
"Tara Knowles-Teller…I do love the sound of that." She fingers the pendant of the necklace he'd given her last night, dropping a quick kiss on the engraved platinum disk before letting it slide to rest against her pale skin. Turning towards him, she strokes his face then presses an even longer kiss to his lips.
"Me too, Babe." Jax pulls her closer to him, sliding his hand down her back to caress the soft skin where his tattoo marks her as his.
He's wanted to marry Tara since he turned sixteen, but there'd been no rush - together, they had all the time in the world. But then a few days ago she'd blown him away with the news that she wants to move away to go to college…then begged him to go with her. Leave Charming, his family, his Club, his dad's legacy? Was she fucking serious? How could she possibly expect him to walk away from everything?
Reeling from outraged disbelief, he'd lost his temper and flamed a fight with her that split them apart for a week - seven goddamn days of pure fucking misery that he'd spent mostly on a run to Eureka, pissing off his Brothers with his distracted, half-assed work and shitty attitude. Not that Jax could blame them; almost every second of his too-fucking-long separation from Tara he'd spent wracking his brain over how to convince her to stay, make her see that the life he could give her here would be so much more than one they'd have to struggle to build somewhere else - especially once he takes over the Club.
So he'd spent every dime he made on the run (and borrowed some from Opie) to buy the platinum necklace that'd drawn his eye in Eureka; it'd been perfect for her - simple yet stunning - as well as an ideal stand-in for the ring he'd give her someday, someday soon.
After listening to him grovel for forgiveness over the asshole way he'd acted, she'd hugged him tight then eagerly agreed to go away with him for a weekend camping trip. He'd hoped that at their special place - the lakeside park at the base of Mt. Walker, where they've always been the only people in the world - he could convince her to stay with him.
But Tara being Tara didn't do the expected; she'd blown him away, not only with the news that she'd already received college acceptances at three schools, but also with the painful reason why she had to leave. "I can't be my mother, Jax…" With a sinking heart, he'd listened to her tearful, yet firm resolve not to repeat her mother's ill fate - wallowing in depression and bitterness over all her lost dreams and opportunities until the day she fucking snapped and took her car for a swim in the river. As much as he wanted to fulfill his father's legacy, Tara was determined not to follow her mother's.
A while back, Jax had read a passage in a book that "some birds aren't meant to be caged…their feathers are too bright"* - as much as it hurts, he realizes that someone as brilliant as Tara shouldn't be stuck in a dead-end town like Charming; she'd always be so much more than just an Old Lady. But the question that burns at his gut and every other part of him - how can he possibly let her go?
"It's so beautiful up here." Shifting in his lap, she leans against his chest to take in the breath-taking view from the top of the mountain that they'd hiked. "Sometimes I wish we could stay right here forever…just you and me."
"Yeah?" He kisses her bare shoulder. "Let's do it…Chief Charlie won't mind; I think I can convince him that we're part Wahewa."
She giggles and runs her fingers through his hair. "That would be something…" Growing serious, she turns in his arms to face him. "You know, we can still come back here, Jax…If you leave with me, we can still come back here for visits - as much as you want."
Staring into her pleading green eyes, he feels his heart crack a little. How can he possibly make this fucking choice - the girl he loves or the future he's dreamt about since childhood? "I don't know, Tara." He shakes his head. "The Club's always been my future…what my dad left me. What would I do in Palo Alto or Berkeley or San Diego? Work in a garage and wait for you to come home from school?"
Now it's Tara shaking her head, her eye wide and incredulous. "Jax, you are the smartest person I know - there's nothing you CAN'T do. You've got a GED so you could apply for college if you wanted. Or you could write - I remember the papers you did for school…you're a beautiful writer, Jax." She brushes her fingers against his cheek, beaming him a dazzling smile that sends his pulse skyrocketing. "Don't you see, Baby? All you have to do is want something, and you find a way."
"What I want…" Grinning, he pushes her to lie flat on the blanket then covers her with his more-than-eager body. "…is more mountain sex." Basking in the sound of her musical giggles and the feel of her silky arms wrapping around him, Jax gazes down at the most beautiful girl in the world. "I love you, Tara."
Pulling his head down, she kisses him softly. "I love you, too. So much. Promise me that you'll think about coming with me." She tweaks his goatee then brushes her fingers across his lips. "Promise me that you'll think about a life different from the Club and Charming - one where you'd be safe from all that…bad shit, one where we can be together. Please, Baby..."
Taking her hand, he presses a kiss to her palm. "Okay, I'll think about it." He rests his forehead on hers. "I promise."
"Ok, I got to admit…that was fun." Tig yanks the black baseball cap off his head as he watches Bobby, Happy and Chibs work quickly to load the duffel bags filled with pure grade cocaine into the back of Jax's SUV, hiding them in the false bottoms of crates filled with motorcycle parts - souvenirs from those dark days muling for Galindo. "Definitely got the adrenaline pumping. Now all we need is some tight pussy and…"
"Tig…" Bobby shakes his head reprovingly, not-so-subtly-nodding in Jax's direction as a reminder of their desperate situation - one that had Happy calling in a fucking bomb threat to the Sheriff's office. Since the feds handle all threats to government property, all remaining deputies and employees had to evacuate the building until the FBI got there.
It'd given them enough time to sneak inside and steal Barosky's cocaine from the evidence locker, then escape through one of the seldom-used side doors; shit, they'd been able to get to their destination - a block away - on foot by the time they heard the blare of sirens.
"Barosky's going to be calling me soon. Everyone clear on the plan?" A small, grateful smile tugs at Jax's lips as his Brothers fervently confirm their readiness; warm affection for them spreads through him, temporarily supplanting his near-paralyzing rage and fear. "Okay, let's do this…"
Jax slides into the driver's seat of the SUV then watches as Bobby drives off in the van with Chibs, Tig and Happy following on their bikes. As if on cue, his phone starts vibrating - Barosky calling to confirm that Jax had his "property" then barking out the address for the exchange before hanging up.
Reaching into his pocket, Jax pulls out the small platinum disk from Tara's necklace then presses his lips to the smooth metal. "Don't worry, Babe. Our boy will be fine; I'm gonna get him back and we're all getting the hell out of here. I won't break that promise, Tara. I won't."
After driving a few miles, he turns on a dirt road only to catch sight of flashing cop lights in his rear-view mirror. "Oh shit," he mutters, pulling over and killing the engine. Rolling down the window, he watches as two Stockton PD cops approach, drawing guns out of their holsters as they walk towards him. "Anything the matter, officers?"
"Step out of the car," one of them orders when they reach his SUV.
Not wanting to create any unnecessary - and possibly dangerous - conflicts, Jax complies without argument, slowly opening the car door and stepping outside with his hands held up.
"This vehicle was reported stolen," the bossy cop growls, pointing his gun at Jax. "Turn around and put your hands against the door."
Jax gapes at him incredulously. "It belongs to my wife…I can assure you that she didn't report it stolen."
His protests fall on deaf ears as the other cop slams him against the car and starts patting him down for weapons. "We need to search the vehicle," he hisses in Jax's ear. "Pull the keys out of the ignition and give them to me...Now!"
Unease shoots down Jax's spine as his near-infallible danger alarm kicks into high gear; these douchebags aren't your regular, everyday asshole cops. Slowly reaching into his car, Jax retrieves the keys and tosses them to the closest guy, who - appropriately enough - reminds him of Weston, the Nazi prick who'd worked for Ethan Zobelle before Jax had ended him. "You got a warrant?" he can't resist asking, just to fuck with them.
"Don't need one, smart ass," the Weston clone sneers and hands the keys to his partner. "We've got probable cause since we suspect this car was used in the commission of a robbery…which means you're in deep shit, pal. So you may want to exercise your right to remain silent and shut the hell up."
Opening the SUV's tailgate, the other cop eyes the crates with satisfaction then smirks at Jax when he discovers the contents in one false bottom. "Well, well…you are officially fucked, pretty boy - grand larceny, possession with the intent to distribute…on top of your scumbag criminal record - you'll be in the state pen until hell comes for you."
"Which is why…" Nazi cop cocks his gun and aims it at Jax's chest. "…you attacked us in an attempt to escape so we had to kill you in self-defense."
"Only if you want your families dead as well," Jax counters ominously, murder in his eyes as he glares at the dirty cops. "If you don't want them slaughtered where they stand, then drop your guns and tell me where Barosky's keeping my son." He watches as the cops exchange startled, uneasy looks. "It's obvious you know who I am - so you know what I'm capable of doing…but what you pricks don't want is your families learning first-hand what a monster I can be. It's a one-time, permanent lesson."
Nazi cop tightens his grip on his gun, but Jax can smell fear on him - he reeked of it. "Bullshit!" he spits out nervously. "You're lying, you don't even know who we are!"
"Don't I?" Jax snarls. "You're Carl Donaldson, Charlie Barosky's partner for 20 years at the Stockton PD. And you…" Jax glares at the other cop - who'd already lowered his weapon, his eyes wide with alarm. "Ted Rubin…Barosky was your training officer your rookie year. Now it's sweet that you're all still so tight…but is he worth losing every goddamn thing that matters to you?"
Both cops look sufficiently rattled but Donaldson continues to point his gun his gun at Jax, who narrows his eyes menacingly. "You don't believe me? Check the phone in my pocket, asshole." Jax motions to the right pocket of his hoodie as Rubin approaches him. "Oh, I forgot to mention - the phone's on; my guys are listening to our little talk, waiting for me to give the go-ahead to end life as you know it."
Rubin pulls out the phone and nearly drops it as horror spreads across his face. Jax nods approvingly at the man's reaction then smirks at Donaldson. "Don't think your partner likes the pictures some Mexican friends of mine just texted me…of them following his wife and son walking home from school."
"You son-of-a-bitch…" Rubin gasps. "You sick son-of-a-bitch!"
Jax shakes his head. "Doesn't feel good, does it? Some asshole using your fear for your family to manipulate you? Now don't bogart the phone, dickhead…I'm sure Donaldson here will just love seeing his daughters hanging with their new friends…pretty girls - they're sixteen and eighteen, right?" Jax taunts as the older cop pales at the sight of Montez and West cozying up to a pair of blondes who strongly resemble their father. "Good thing my guys don't care how old the pussy is - just as long as it opens wide."
"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Donaldson screams, hurling the phone to the ground and pointing his gun at Jax's face. "I'm gonna blow your goddamn head off…"
But his aim wavers at the sound of Tig's voice piping in from the phone. "You might want to re-think that, Adolf. I got a clear shot of your ugly face, and I'm just itchin' to pull the trigger…"
"…and then we wipe out the whole next generation of dirty Stockton PD," Jax adds darkly. "I knew Barosky would pull this shit - just wasn't sure which assholes he'd send after me. So we got cover on everyone who matters to you and all the other crooked pricks that Charlie's got in his pocket. I like to cover all my bases…Now drop your fucking guns. NOW!"
As both men grudgingly comply, Jax picks up the closest gun - his hard gaze never leaving the clearly shaken cops, who pale even further at the roaring sound of approaching motorcycles. "Glad you boys can appreciate the importance of family." Jax presses the barrel against Donaldson's forehead. "You have five seconds to tell me where my son is…or you and your daughters stop breathing. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SON?!"
"You know there's nothing that happens in this town that I don't find out about, Jackson." Jax can feel the heat of his mom's wrathful glare as he works under the hood of Floyd's ancient Buick. Looking up, he almost shudders at the look on her face - it's the same one that's shriveled men's balls from here to Tacoma. Fuck, he's not looking forward to this talk, especially since he's pretty sure why she's so pissed.
Walking away from the car, he drops his tools on the work bench and wipes his hands on a towel. "And what did you find out, Mom?" Returning her ominous scowl with a defiant look, he crosses his arms across his chest - ready to protect himself once she starts throwing shit at him.
"Tara's leaving for college…At least that's what I heard from that dried up Mrs. Conroy in line at the grocery store. Is it true?"
Swallowing hard, Jax lights a cigarette; he's still not made a fucking decision. All he knows that it's getting harder and harder to spend time away from her - yeah, it's always been that way for the two of them, but now there's a deeper sense of urgency to be together knowing that her time in Charming has an end date. "She's not leaving for a few months - hasn't even decided on the school yet."
"I don't give a shit about when and where she's going," Gemma snaps. "All I want to know is whether she's going alone." Getting into his face, the Queen of SAMCRO regards him warily. "I just hope you're not letting your dick lead you to places it shouldn't go."
"Shut up, Mom! It's not like that!" Incensed, he shoves his tools to the ground. Goddamn, he fucking hates it when people assume Tara's main draw for him is some hole for his dick. She's much more than that. So much more. Christ, you'd think his mom would know that by now given all the shit she's given him over the years about his and Tara's "unhealthy obsession" with each other.
Gemma's eyes narrow for a microsecond before growing warm as she changes tack. "I know that, Baby." She rubs his arm. "I see the way you look at her…how you are together. I've been a teenager in love before, I know how it is…But we're talking about something much bigger at stake here - everything your father worked so hard to build, all the men in all the charters who'll one day look to you to lead them. You can't turn your back on that, Jax. A Teller belongs at the head of that table…It's what your father would've wanted - for you and, one day, for your son."
The uncertainty that's been gnawing at him since Tara made her decision takes a deep bite into his ass. Fuck, what the hell's he going to do?
"Good riddance…" Happy declares - a bit too cheerfully for someone who'd just snapped another man's neck. But now that's three of Barosky's goons they don't have to worry about - provided that those fucking clowns Donaldson and Rubin do what they're supposed to do. Barosky wants his two dirty cop friends to bring the drugs to him…so that's what going to happen - with a little alteration.
Both men had sworn they knew nothing about Thomas, insisting that they'd planned to meet Barosky at a friend's cabin, isolated in the hills near Vallecito, where they'd planned to split up the drugs - most likely he'd have the little boy with him there. So the fucking son-of-a-bitch's hiding out in Calaveras County - beyond the reach of the San Joaquin County Sheriff…but not Jax.
After the cops loaded the drugs into their police car, Jax'd ridden his Harley out of Bobby's van so that they could split up once they all reached the cabin. Donaldson and Rubin would lure Barosky outside with the drugs and keep him distracted while Jax, Happy and Bobby sneak in the backdoor of the cabin and find Thomas. Chibs and Tig would shadow the dirty cops, waiting in the wings to pounce on Barosky once Jax signals that they got Thomas out safely. Kill all the others, but not Barosky - no, Jax wants that special privilege reserved for himself.
Silently, they slip through the darkened kitchen and into the hallway; Jax's heart, already racing a million fucking miles a minute, leaps into his throat at the sound of Thomas' cries piercing the air - profound relief that his son's still alive clashes with brain-numbing terror over what could be causing his baby pain.
Jax motions for Happy to stand lookout - in case Barosky or one of his minions comes back inside - then he and Bobby dash up the stairs towards the direction of Thomas' cries. Crashing through the door with his gun drawn, Jax scans the room quickly and nearly topples over in relief at the sight of Thomas alone, still strapped to his carrier, screaming for the world to acknowledge his needs.
While Bobby guards the door, Jax races over to the crying baby and drops to his knees. "Hey Thomas…It's okay…," he croons, shaking with eagerness as he unbuckles the little boy from the carrier. Jax knows that they don't have much time before all hell breaks loose outside, but he can't stop himself from running his hands across Thomas' wriggling body to check for any injuries - finding none, Jax releases the breath he'd been holding and cradles his precious son tight against his chest, burying his face in Thomas' soft blond hair. "It's okay, Baby Boy…It's okay…Daddy's here now…Daddy's here…"
Feeling a slight tug on his beard, he pulls back to gaze down at Tara's gorgeous mossy green eyes in their son's sweet face. His throat tightens and mouth curves into a broad grin as Thomas stops crying and beams up at him. "Daddy!" he chirps, patting Jax's cheeks with his chubby hands.
"Hey, we got to go." Bobby hisses, snapping Jax back into reality. "Hap said they've started bringing in the crates; only a matter of time before someone comes up here looking for that other guy to help." Before they'd left for the cabin, Donaldson told them that Barosky had two other SPD cops with him; Happy had dispatched the one stationed at the back door, which means the other one's outside helping with the drugs.
Jax nods then quickly buckles Thomas back into his carrier. "Okay, Big Guy, we got to go now. But I need you to do me a big favor and be super quiet..." He presses a kiss to the little boy's cheek and hopes like hell he understands; Thomas flashes him another gap-toothed smile and, as if answering his Daddy's request, remains silent. Smart kid, just like his Mommy.
Picking up the carrier, Jax joins Bobby in the hallway then freezes at the sound of Barosky's voice downstairs.
"We can go out this way," Happy whispers, pointing to one of the other rooms. "There's a balcony - with stairs that go down to the back yard. I saw it when I was stashing the body."
Exhaling in relief, Jax follows his Brother into the room and down the stairs. "Hap, when we get out of this, I may have to kiss you."
"Get in line," Bobby mutters as they duck behind the bushes outside the glass patio door. They're about to make a run for the van when blasts of gunfire shatters the relative quiet.
"Oh shit!" Jax exchanges horrified glances with Bobby; Chibs and Tig wouldn't have shot first unless they'd been discovered. "I need you to get Thomas out of here." He hands the carrier to Bobby. "Don't stop until you get to Charming…take him to the hospital so they can make sure he's okay."
Turning to Happy, who looks like he's ready to join the gun fight, Jax shakes his head. "No, Brother. I need you to go with Bobby…make sure my boy gets back to Charming safe." With his finger, Jax pokes at Happy's Men of Mayhem patch. Hard. "You kill anyone and everyone that gets in the way. No one hurts my son. You got it?"
At Happy's resolute nod, Jax hugs both his Brothers, thanking them profusely, then drops down to one knee to face his little boy…who hadn't uttered a peep in all this madness. "Your Mommy and I are so proud of you…" He brushes his thumb across Thomas' velvety cheek - just as soft as Tara's - and kisses his forehead. "I love you, Thomas. So much."
"What the fuck happened?!" Jax roars as Chibs presses his sweatshirt against Tig's bloody shoulder. Rage swamps him, even though the former medic assures him Tig should be okay; this cluster-fuck could've endangered Thomas - had they got to his son a few minutes later…fuck, he doesn't want to think about his sweet baby boy in the middle of a gunfight.
After Happy and Bobby had driven off with Thomas, Jax had stormed back into the cabin to find Donaldson (how the fuck did that asshole get an AK-47?) and Barosky's other dirty cop firing steadily out the front windows. Using the element of surprise, Jax had pulled out his gun and blown a hole in the back of the Nazi-looking fucker's head, splattering blood and brain matter against the wall and the other dirty asshole cop. He hadn't given the other man the chance to recover from his shock, emptying the rest of his clip into the shithead's face and chest. No one fucks with Jax's family without paying a bloody price.
"That prick Donaldson…when Barosky said they'd be able to get $2 mill for the blow, he grabbed a gun from the other guy and shot his partner…" Snorting in disgust, Chibs nods at Rubin's dead body a few feet away. "Then he started shootin' at us. Guess his daughters ain't worth his share of the money. Fuckin' dickhead...How's Tommy Boy? Bobby get him out of here?"
Nodding, Jax peers down at Tig's injury. "Yeah, headed back to Charming…Happy's with them, just in case they run into any more of Barosky's goons - he'll make them sorry." Speaking of making someone sorry… "Where's Barosky?" Jax demands, looking around…even if the man's dead, he wants to cut the motherfucker into pieces for what he did to Thomas and Abel.
Chibs and Tig exchange uncomfortable glances before Tig answers, grimacing in pain. "The chicken shit took off when the shooting started…jumped into the cop car while the others ran into the house. I tried to shoot out the tires, but missed - it's not as easy as it looks on fucking TV."
"Shit…" Jax takes off for his bike. No fucking way he lets that crooked son-of-a-bitch escape; his sons will never be fully safe until Barosky's worm food - and Jax's determined to stick him into the ground personally.
He locates his Harley, hidden in the trees near where Bobby's van had been, then rides back to where Chibs is helping Tig to his feet so they can walk to the house. "Call Alvarez," Jax orders over the roar of the engine. "Tell him to bring his doc out here to help you patch up Tig…and tell him to bring a cage, unless Tig wants to ride bitch behind some Mayan hombre." He smirks at his fucked-in-the-head Brother. "Although Tiggy might prefer that."
"Fuck you, man." Tig flips him the bird then grimaces again.
Jax's small smile vanishes as he stares at both of his Brothers intently. "Thank you," he tells them simply, gripping Tig's free hand in a firm clasp then accepting a hug from Chibs. Raising his hand for one last wave, Jax guns the engine and takes off to eliminate the last obstacle keeping him from making good his promise to Tara - taking his family out of Charming forever.
"Goddamn, I missed you," he breathes against her neck, hugging her tight against him. Actually they'd only been apart for a couple of days - certainly not their longest separation - but every second away had been fucking endless. Not just because he actually did miss her, but also because he'd made his decision and didn't want anyone or anything tipping her off before he could tell her. And because he hoped that maybe, just maybe he could change her mind about leaving.
Twining her arms around his neck, she inspects the bruises on his face with worried eyes. "I missed you too, Baby. Are you sure you're okay?" At his amused nod, she tilts her head towards the Clubhouse, where a party welcoming home the MC rages inside - it was a rough two-day run. "How long do we have to stay at this thing? I want you all to myself."
"Let's get out of here now. You know I'm always happy to offer my body when you want to play Doctor," he teases, sliding his hands down her back to squeeze her perky ass. "And besides, we need to talk…"
She raises a brow questioningly but before she can probe further, Tig pops out the Clubhouse door to tell him that Clay wants to talk to him - NOW. When Jax hesitates, the asshole strides towards them and offers to carry Jax inside.
Scowling at his douchebag Brother, Jax grabs Tara's hand and tugs her along with him towards the party. No fucking way he's letting her out of his sight, not for a second. "Ten minutes," he whispers in her ear, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"Over here!" Clay waves him over to the bar where he's standing with Gemma. "Son, you did us proud yesterday…" He hauls Jax into an embrace, splitting him apart from Tara. "With Otto inside for the next six years, it looked like we could be in for some rough times. But the way you stepped up - taking out those Mayans, saving Chibs…well, shit - you more than earned this." Reaching into his pocket, Clay pulls out a Men of Mayhem patch and presses it into Jax's hand. "Good job."
Jax grins as elation and pride soar through him. He can hear his Brothers cheering and whooping but before he can turn around, his mother wraps her arms around him. "Congratulations, Baby." She smiles at him, satisfaction swimming in her eyes as they drift to focus on something just beyond him. "I knew you'd make the right decision."
Oh shit. Jax freezes as the import of what just happened slaps him upside the head. Pushing away from Gemma, he shoots her a withering look before whirling around to face a pair of inscrutable green eyes. Maybe because of the years surviving torturous abuse from her asshole father, Tara could always close herself off better than anyone he knew. A blank expression on her beautiful face scared him more than anything - including his mom, his SOA Brothers or any of the other psychotic fucks he's met with or without a cut.
Grasping her hand before she can bolt, Jax drags her off to the apartment to a chorus of whistles and hoots from his Brothers assuming that he and Tara can't wait to celebrate in their usual way. If only. Unfortunately, given her quiet stiffness, whatever heat that'd been burning inside her for him now seems frozen to ice.
After ushering her into the room, Jax leans against the closed door and jams his hands into his pocket. "I'm so sorry, Babe. I wanted to tell you myself." He swallows hard when she remains silent and just stares at him; fuck, he hates when there's distance between them - it makes him feel so goddamn lost.
"I promised you that I'd think about leaving, Tara. And I did…shit, it'd been all I could think about. I even got to the point where I thought I'd do it, just so that we could be together. But then after Otto got sent up to Stockton, I realized that I need to stay here. If I go with you, SAMCRO will be even more shorthanded - which means someone could get hurt or worse. What just happened with the Mayans will happen again, but the next time…it could be Opie or Piney who catch a bullet because I'm not around to have their back. I just can't live with that, Babe."
Practically holding his breath, he waits for her to say something - anything. But the reaction he gets is the last one he wants as tears start sliding down her cheeks. "Oh shit, Babe. Don't…" He rushes over to haul her into his arms, knowing that she could easily turn around and slug him - which would actually be preferable; hell, he'd rather be shot than see her cry.
"I'm sorry," she sniffles, swiping at her eyes before leaning into him. "I just feel so selfish - wanting you to come with me…I didn't think about anything else."
"I know," he kisses her forehead. "I'm the same - expecting you to stay here with me…I didn't think about you wanting to go to college, becoming a doctor."
Tara meets his gaze with tear-filled green eyes. "So where does that leave us? I have to make the decision on a school next week." But before he can respond, she grabs his hand almost franticly. "Can't SAMCRO get someone else from another charter? Kozik seems to be here a lot - can't he take your place? Or sign on more Prospects? I can defer my acceptance and wait for you if you need to train someone." She stares at him imploringly, as if she'd bundled all the hope left inside of her for one more desperate chance at convincing him to leave with her. "Please, Jax. Please, just try to find someone else to take your place. Come with me."
In his nineteen years, he's had more than his fair share of pain and hardship. But nothing - not Tommy's death, or even his dad's death - was harder to take or hurt more than this. Cupping her wet face in his hands, he struggles with his own composure. "I love you, Tara…" His eyes blur as pained regret stabs at him. "…but I can't."
The isolation that must've attracted Barosky to the cabin's location actually plays into Jax's favor; surrounded by lakes and hills, there's only one two-lane road that leads anywhere for nearly a hundred miles. Also, given the time of year, there aren't many drivers on the road so even if Barosky uses the lights and sirens on the stolen cop car as carte blanche to drive at high speeds, it won't help him out-run Jax - nothing will…not a goddamn fucking thing.
Mercer Caverns - 5 miles
Jax's laser focus on Barosky wavers as he's suddenly bombarded with old memories of that fateful grade school field trip - when he'd tumbled down one of the cave's steep cliffs and broke his ribs and shoulder, when little Tara - his field trip buddy - had nestled beside him and gripped his hand for hours while they waited for someone to find them. It hadn't been the first time she'd held him while he hurt and it sure as hell hadn't been the last.
Hitting the gas on his bike, Jax pushes to max speed as a cop car appears in the distance. He pulls out his gun but wants to be closer before he fires - to confirm it's definitely Barosky and to make sure his bullets spill the prick's blood. As he nears the car, it accelerates - proving to Jax that the dirty ex-cop's behind the wheel.
Jax shoots out the back window of the car, which temporarily swerves into the next lane but continues to race ahead. "Come on," he mutters, gunning his engine. Pulling even with the driver's side, he points his gun at Barosky's head. "Son of a bitch!" he bellows as the fucker veers sharply, shooting through the open window and striking Jax in the thigh.
Gritting his teeth in pain, Jax speeds forward and blasts a hail of bullets into the car, which starts to slow - indicating that Jax hit his target. But as he pulls even with Barosky, the car swerves wildly - slamming into Jax's bike and plunging them both down into the steep ravine.
The booming explosion penetrates Jax' pain-fogged brain, and he forces his eyes open to watch the flames engulf both the car and driver - finally, the end to that goddamn fucking bastard. But satisfaction's short-lived as his entire body screams in agony. "Christ," he gasps, lifting a bloody hand to rest on his wrecked Harley pinning him to the ground. Closing his eyes, he succumbs to the darkness.
"Wake up, Jax. Please wake up. Please, Jax. Please…" His eyes flicker open to the vision of eight-year-old Tara crying over him, just like that day in the cave so many years ago. Despite the near-blinding pain, a slight smile tugs at his lips…she'd been such a pretty little girl, so grown-up, so serious. His little brother, Tommy, had adored her - and so had he.
His smile widens as the sweet-faced little girl morphs into the gorgeous woman who's owned him for more than half his life. "Hey, Babe." He grasps her hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing tight. "I've missed you so much."
"Jax, you have to hang on. They're going to find you…You're going to be okay, Baby. Just hang on…"
"I was wrong, Tara," he wheezes. "I should have left with you…the first time." Then summoning all his remaining strength, he lifts his hand to touch her cheek; it's just as velvety soft as he remembers. "…love you, Babe…more than anything."
"I love you too, Baby." She strokes his face. "But Jax, please…You have to take care of the boys. They need you…"
"No…" Gazing into those green eyes he's loved so much for so long, he knows that his sons would be better off without a father who's dead inside, better off with someone else who could give them a real family, a happy childhood.
Oddly enough, his thoughts drift two men - one that he'd loved and one he'd hated; Opie and Frank Knowles couldn't have been more different except in the fact they couldn't cope with losing the women they loved. Opie hadn't drowned himself in booze like old Frank, but he'd been just as desperate in trying to escape his pain - rebuilding his life by rebuilding his family; in the end, like Tara's asshole dad, Jax's best friend couldn't make it work - how do you keep going when your heart's gone? As much as he loved his kids and tried to love Lyla, Opie really had nothing left inside to give them. Just like old Frank had nothing to give Tara.
Because of the fateful decision made by his nineteen-year-old self, Jax's already been through that long, lonely hell of life without Tara - and as he presses her pale hand against his bloody lips, he knows absolutely that he can't do it again. It's why, just days ago, he'd given Rosen such specific directions on what to do if anything happened to him - almost as if he'd been planning on this, almost as if he'd been counting on it.
Grimacing in pain, he pushes aside the collar of his sweatshirt and tugs on the chain of his bullet necklace - the parting gift she gave him the day she left for college. "Remember when…" he coughs, trying to talk despite the 700 pound Harley crushing part of his chest. "…you gave me this? Remember what…you said?"
Smiling sadly, she nods and brushes her fingers against the chain and his skin. Suddenly they're both nineteen again and it's the second worst day of his life…She pulls something out of her pocket. It's a gold chain with some sort of pendant. She puts it over his head and lifts the pendant that he realizes is a gold bullet. "Please take care of yourself, Jax. Don't let one of these get you….We may be going separate ways, but I wouldn't want to live in a world if you're not in it."
"Same for me, Babe…" He coughs again; the pain so intense, it's getting harder and harder to breathe. "Abel…Thomas…they'll be fine…better off…" Clutching both of her hands in his, he laces their fingers tight as if he'll never let go - and he won't. Not ever again. "Please Tara…please, Babe…don't leave me…"
She hesitates for a moment, as if wondering if their sons would be truly better off without him. Then flashing that dazzling smile that's made his heart pound since childhood, she drops a kiss on his forehead and then a longer one to his lips. "I'm here, Baby…I'm here."
Truly happy for the first time in weeks, Jax feels no pain as Tara nestles against him - where she belongs, where she's always belonged. Then locking eyes with the love of his life, Jax Teller smiles.
*From Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King