"I love platitudes and clichés, especially when they come from a District Attorney," Jax drawled. Tara blinked incredulously. She knew what Tyne Patterson was here for; he didn't. She wanted to scream at her husband to shut up, but she was far too shocked to bother. She folded her hands across her smaller, yet still swollen belly; her eyes widened as she watched the attorney pull herself upright. Patterson narrowed her obsidian eyes and smiled coldly. It was the smile Tara remembered from when she was trying to negotiate her freedom.
"There are no clichés and platitudes, Mr. Teller," Patterson stated. She held up the cell phone he'd given her before. Tara's eyebrows raised. "Does this look familiar, Tara?"
"It's my phone," Tara quietly answered. Thank God the DA couldn't see her heart pounding against her chest. Thank God Jax couldn't see the memories of Juice Ortiz's last moments hovering in her mind. Thank God she didn't have the strength to get up and walk out, even though that's exactly what she wanted to do. She didn't want to deal with this now, especially hours after her twin daughters' births.
"It is," Patterson responded. "I didn't understand why your husband gave it to me while we were at TM. I didn't understand why the hell a video from Juan Carlos Ortiz would be on it, either."
"Did you watch it?" Tara questioned. She watched Patterson glance at Althea Jarry, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Yes, yes, I did," the DA stated. "It was quite interesting, to say the least."
"What do you mean?" Jax asked. He'd moved from his confrontational standoff with Patterson to Tara's side. He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, and he was shocked to find her trembling. Tara felt his blue eyes look through her, but for once, she didn't return his gaze. He sat by her on the bed and tangled his fingers with hers. Tara stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on that phone.
"Juice Ortiz is dead, as you well know," Tyne began. It was as if the older woman was beginning a storybook, not an explanation. The woman was regal and beautiful, and if they'd been on the same team, Jax might have been friends. As much as he hated to admit it, he did like her. He did respect her, but he also knew that she could turn into a fierce and formidable enemy. He'd seen it firsthand, and judging from his wife's trembling form, Tara must've known that truth as well.
"I identified the body," Jax reminded her. She nodded. "I remember."
"Well, do you know who he spent his last moments with?" The question was half mocking. Jax stared ahead. Defiance blazed from his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Me," Tara answered. "He spent them with me." Jax turned and looked at her. This time, she met his gaze. The familiar tight lipped confusion registered across the planes of his face. Tears welled in Tara's eyes as she stared back at him. "I'm sorry Jax."
"You really don't have it in you to keep things from him, do you?" Althea Jarry asked. Part of her was incredulous, the other part of her was envious. I wonder if I'll ever have a love like that. She thought of the Scot that made her blood boil. She knew she wanted him, but having him was an entirely different matter. I want to have a love like that. Everyone wants a love like that.
"Why are you here?" Jax's voice was venomous as he addressed the sheriff. "Are you part of this?"
"She's here because I asked her to be, Mr. Teller," Patterson stated firmly, causing Jax to shut up. Gritting his teeth, he ignored both Patterson and Jarry, and he turned towards Tara again.
"What happened darlin'?" It was amazing how fast he could change. As he stared at his beautiful wife, he was shocked by difference in his soul. Flashbacks to their kitchen played in his mind: Tara was on the floor, covered in blood. Gemma was dead. Roosevelt was dead. Everything changed in that moment, and the changes hadn't stopped since. There was very little Tara Knowles Teller could do to make Jax unhappy. At this point, he didn't care what happened with Juice; as long as Tara and his kids were okay, he could weather any storm.
"The night I collapsed, I got a phone call. It was Margaret. Juice was in CCU. He'd overdosed, but he was conscious. He wanted to talk to me. Alone."
Jax watched as Tyne stared at his wife, content with letting her tell the story. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. Tara still trembled next to him. He gingerly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Instinctively, she leaned into him. It was a strange dance that had begun when they were sixteen. He held; she leaned; they became one. Grateful, Tara smiled carefully.
"Go on babe," Jax coached. Tara nodded and continued.
"Juice was going to die. He knew it. I think he was surprised that he survived the overdose at all. He'd signed a DNR."
"DNR?" Jax asked.
"A Do Not Resuscitate Order. Basically, if he coded, he didn't want medical intervention. He said he didn't want to live anymore. Not without his club." Tara watched as Jax's jaw clenched and his lips tightened. She pretended that her husband's sharp intake of breath didn't break her heart. "He'd asked me there so he could confess."
"Confess what?"
"He'd come by the house the night of Gemma's murder," Tara whispered. "He saw me on the floor. I heard him speak to me Jax."
"But he didn't kill her," Jax stated. It was almost as if Jax forgot Patterson and Jarry were in the room. "He didn't touch you. You and I both know that." Tara nodded.
"I know. But I didn't remember anything then, Jax. I was still struggling—and then, he asked me to grab my phone. Margaret was with us. He asked her to grab her phone too."
"There's another recording, Tara?" Patterson spoke up. Both Jax and Tara turned their eyes toward her. Tara nodded again.
"Yes. Margaret Murphy recorded Juice's confession on her phone as well."
"That was very smart of him," the DA mused. "Have an unaffiliated person with the same recording. Give it credence. Very smart, Ortiz." Tara and Jax turned back to one another. It no longer mattered that the District Attorney and the Sheriff were in the room. Tara had to purge her soul of everything—the last forty-eight hours had been full of confessions, and Juice was the only confession she had left. Once she was done with the story, she was free. The words began to tumble from her mouth at a crazed velocity.
"Juice's vitals began tanking," Tara continued. "And he began talking. And we began recording."
"I have it here," Patterson interjected. She walked across the room and handed the phone Jax. Tara saw Juice's face, and a torrent of memories flowed through her. His voice rang in her ears.
"My name is Juan Carlos Ortiz. Yesterday, I injected my body with a lethal dose of OxyContin. I, as you can see, did not die, but it was only a short reprieve. I want to die. I have turned on my club, and I deserve this punishment." Jax looked at Tara, his eyes confused. She turned her eyes back to her phone. "You see, Jackson Teller wants me dead. I went against the club. For the last year, I have been running guns for the Byz Lats behind Teller's back. I am the one who obtained the KG-9s, and I am the one who put them in the hands of Arcadio Nerona. His girlfriend Darvany is the mother of the boy that shot the school up."
Jax exhaled jaggedly, and a harsh lump of reality formed in his throat. He knew Juice had no link the KG-9s. Jax knew he was the only link between the club and the guns. Juice knew it too, and he was using his last breath to save Jax. Jax, who would've killed him, had there been the chance. The realization of the monster he was shook him to his core. The Jackson Teller of just a few months ago was a completely different man than he was now. Juice's voice echoed within the confines of the hospital room, haunting Jax's soul.
"SAMCRO had no idea what I was doing. I told no one of my plans. I didn't want Jax as my president. Without Clay, I chose other options. Jackson learned of what I was doing after Arcadio and Darvany took off, and he made no secret of his hatred for me. I fled to Stockton, where I checked into a motel and didn't know what the fuck to do with myself. I knew Jax would turn me in—or kill me. I just beat him to it. Jackson—" Jax's eyes were overflowing with tears as Juice's eyes bore stared blankly into the camera. "Jackson, I'm sorry for betraying you. Tell Chibs I love him."
Tara thought the recording would end there. She didn't know that Margaret recorded her rushing to Juice's side. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but as she relived it all, in bold, vibrant reality, Tara wept openly. Juice was so misunderstood. He shouldn't have died. He should have been there, still breathing.
"Just hold my hand, Tara. I don't want to die alone."
"Turn it off, Patterson," Jax said quietly. Patterson let the video continue. He saw Margaret lay the phone down, but he could hear the sounds of Juice's last moments.
"Time of death, 12:27 am."
"Turn it off!" Jax exploded. Tara jumped, as did Jarry. Patterson, however, stood still as a stone. Carefully, Tara grabbed the phone and hit the stop button. The noise stopped. Juice's voice stopped. Everything was still. Jax's chest heaved, even though he tried to be quiet, he just couldn't hold it in. Sobs wracked his body, and he had no choice in the matter; he just let them come. In front of Tara, in front of Tyne Patterson and Althea Jarry, Jax Teller wept openly. He didn't care. Nothing mattered at that moment.
Guilt. It was a word Jax always wrestled with, but usually, he won the battle. In the world of SAMCRO, there was no time to feel guilt. Guilt dulled the senses and eroded his edge. It was something pushed down and put away, saved for a time when it mattered. It mattered now. Suddenly, all the death and carnage and murder of the last few months fell at his feet, and he couldn't stop crying.
"I'm sorry, Juice…" he murmured. Tara embraced him tightly, and he buried his head the crook of her shoulder.
"Mr. Teller," Patterson's stringent tone shattered Jax's sadness, and he swallowed his tears. He felt like a kid being reprimanded by his mother as he stared back at her. Jax Teller could officially say he'd hit his rock bottom. Patterson's eyes drank him in as he humbly stared at the older woman. It was strange how Juice's confession had changed the dynamic of the room. It no longer mattered to Jax how he looked. He was broken.
"It appears as though Juice has given you a Get Out of Jail Free Card," Patterson softly stated. "As much as I hate to say it, while Mr. Ortiz's dying words aren't necessarily legally bulletproof, they would definitely sway a jury. They blow any case I had for the school shooting out of the water."
Tara's eyes narrowed as her hazel eyes locked with Patterson's dark ones. "What are you trying to say?" she asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" Patterson returned with brilliant, white smile.
"No, actually it isn't," Tara retaliated. "Every single time you have given my family something, you try like hell to take it away. You want my husband's head on a silver platter, and you won't stop until you get it. Pardon me if I see this Get Out of Jail Free Card as a fucking carrot on a string; you're giving it and taking it away."
Patterson's smile faded. She gazed at Tara and Jax, impressed by the lioness that had emerged from Jax Teller's wife. For so long, she'd been a shadow of the intelligent, tough, stunning woman she was. She'd been in SAMCRO's shadow, and now, two sons, two daughters, and countless murders later, she was the strongest one. Gemma Teller-Morrow would have been amazed to see remnants of her soul that remained within her daughter-in-law.
"There is nothing pinning the school shooting to you," Patterson stated with a calm that infuriated Tara. For once, Tara would like to see the good DA lose her fucking shit. The fact that she stayed cool, even in the midst of all this chaos, was annoying as hell. "Arcadio and Darvany have all but disappeared. Juice confessed to running the guns. As far as that is concerned, you're free."
Jax was still wrapped in Tara's embrace. His wife didn't move. He knew what she was doing: she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it always did. Patterson didn't disappoint.
"The bullets from Izzy's gun match the bullets in Nero Padilla's body, as do the bullets found in Chuckie and Unser. You have air tight alibis for both murders. Again, you're free."
Tara listened as Patterson ticked off the list of terror that had plagued her life for months. It was amazing what shock and fear could do to a person; there were major details Tara had forgotten about the last few months.
"It is obvious now, given what has transpired over the last few weeks, that Izzy killed Wendy in that disaster of a trailer fire. There is only one loose end that doesn't make sense: Gemma Teller-Morrow's murder. Who killed her?"
Tara and Jax stared at one another, unsure of what to say. Patterson interrupted the slight pause.
"You know, don't you?" the attorney questioned. Tara nodded.
"It was Wendy," Tara whispered. "She, Nero, and Unser had stopped in. They all thought I was dead; hell, I thought I was too. Gemma tried to run, but she wasn't fast enough. Wendy shot her."
"How convenient," Patterson's voice dripped with sarcasm. "All the other witnesses, all but you, Tara, are dead. A good DA would see that as a pattern, as motive, and as means."
"Are you saying you think I killed everyone around me?" Tara shrieked. Red tinged fury streaked her throat and chest. If it didn't hurt so much to move, she would have gotten in Patterson's face.
"I don't believe it for a second," Patterson stated. "But I am saying that it looks strange."
"But I—" Tara began, but Patterson stopped her.
"Oh, but Dr. Teller, like your husband, you have air tight alibis. You were sequestered in a hospital when Wendy, Unser, and Chuckie were murdered. You were physically unable to stand before, during, and after Gemma was murdered. There was no way you could have killed her. Izzy was self-defense."
"So you're saying we're free?" Jax finally spoke. "There is nothing keeping us here?"
"Unfortunately, that's exactly what I am saying," the DA returned. "You are free, Mr. Teller."
A beautiful smile burst onto Jax's face as the revelation dawned on him. We're free. We can leave Charming. We can start over. Oh. My. God. We can start over.
"I'll have all charges dropped, Jax." It was the first time she'd not called him Mr. Teller. It was a strange, foreign. "I suggest you leave while you can."
With that, the DA pivoted on her heel and walked out of the small room. Jarry was hot on her heels. It was only Jax and Tara in the room now, and they simply stared at one another, shell-shocked.
"I can't fucking believe it," Jax whispered. "We're free."
"I can't either," Tara replied. "It's surreal." Once more she leaned into him, and once more, he laced his fingers in hers. "Just like that, fucking free."
This is really happening. He'd promised Tara he'd break free. His fingers brushed the President patch on his kutte, and he felt like he was that much closer to breathing, that much closer to freedom. Tears welled up in his eyes again, but this time, he forced them back.
The day Jax Teller had lived and breathed for was becoming a reality. It was an amazing feeling. He was happy. The life he'd dreamt of with Tara was so close; life without SAMCRO was now something he welcomed. As he looked at his wife, he realized Tara and the kids were all that mattered now. It was definitely a thought he could get used to.
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