9

Jax Is Really Alive

Chapter 28 Recap

Tara learns that Jax expects compensation for all the sex he's been having with her. He wants to kiss—and only kiss—her for two hours. She agrees because she's in dire sexual need and he has what she needs.

They go to a local bar. Tara is posing as a porn film producer looking for the star of a soon to be shot film who walked into a biker bar and left on the back of a bike. She was offering invitations to the film's shooting and wrap party as incentives for the information. She passes out pictures of Brooke with her cell number on the back. Jax is posing as a brother looking for his off her meds bi-polar half sister Wendy.

After striking out at the neighborhood bar, they go to a seedy biker bar. Jax cautions Tara telling her that alien super powers or not, he wouldn't let her go into the place alone. A man walks up to Tara and grabs her breast. She slaps the man so hard he almost falls down. A short time later, Jax is briefly distracted when a woman at the table next to his pours beer over a man's head.

When Jax looks up, he notices that Tara is gone along with the two men who were standing next to her at the bar.

Chapter 29 From Here to Hell

If the men had taken Tara into the bathroom or out the front door, they would have crossed in front of him. They had to have taken her out the back door. There was no doubt in Jax's mind that someone had drugged Tara and they were going to rape her. He had to get to her before that happened.

He walked down the back hallway. One guy wearing a Kitty Cabal cut and another guy blocked his path. If he'd had his cut on, these morons wouldn't have dared bar his path.

"Move," Jax said curtly.

The two guys continued to stand there smirking at him. Jax didn't have time for a conversation and he really didn't have anything to say that he hadn't already said. He grabbed the first guy by the neck and threw him down the hall about ten feet sending him crashing head first into a wall knocking him out. The combination of alien powers and adrenaline made Jax feel like a superhero.

The guy in the Kitty Cabal cut lunged at Jax with a three inch long blade while his back was turned. He saw the flash of the knife from the corner of his eye. He sidestepped the blade, pivoted and drove his elbow hard into the man's face breaking his nose with a sickening crack. The man gasped in pain, wildly waving the knife desperate to stick Jax somewhere, anywhere. Jax grabbed the man's wrist and twisted the knife from his hand sending it clattering to the grimy linoleum floor. He punched the man in the face breaking the man's jaw and knocking him to the ground. Jax gave the man a good-bye kick to the groin with his motorcycle booted foot. It had a more satisfying impact than his white sneaks. Unlike when he fought the robots, the men didn't get up ready to fight again.

He flung open the door just in time to see a clearly unconscious Tara being put in the backseat of an old beaten up white Chevy Malibu. They took off before he could get to the car.

He ran to the SUV and jumped in. He took off after the Chevy.

"Cas track Tara's phone."

"Tara's phone is in this vehicle."

Jax spotted her phone on the passenger's seat. It must have fallen from her bag or she took it out when she was looking for something. He swore under his breath.

He turned his attention back to the car with Tara in it. It was five cars in front of him. He couldn't see Tara in the car. A wave of dread spread over him. He wondered if one of the men could be raping Tara in the backseat of the car. As the car turned left, he was able see both men in the front seat of the car.

His relief was short-lived. Before he could make the same left turn, the light turned red and traffic began to flow. He waited at the light for traffic to clear.

There was just enough room for him to turn, red light or not. The back might get clipped but the SUV was heavy and should handle the impact. He turned. The driver in the opposing lane honked his horn and braked hard, skidding, coming less than an inch from Jax's bumper.

Jax sped up, scanning traffic for the Chevy. It was no where to be seen. He looked at parking lots. No Chevy. He kept driving. There were dark side streets the car could have turned down. Every mile he drove was hell as he imagined the car parked somewhere and Tara being raped.

One thing he'd learned from SAMCRO was to keep his focus. There would be time later to blame himself for taking his eyes off Tara, but this wasn't it.

This area was seedier and more run down than the biker bar. Businesses were closed and boarded up. There was an auto junkyard and a place that sold brightly colored pottery and bird baths that looked like they were from Mexico.

Where the hell was that car? Maybe they had turned down a side street, but where? There were so damned many places they could have gone.

The area was changing from run-down businesses to vacant land broken up by an occasional house or business. There were no bright lights, gas stations or convenience stores or much traffic.

Time was ticking. He had to get to Tara now. He had no idea how he was going to find her.

"Where the hell is Tara?" he asked, slamming his hands against the steering wheel.

"Tara is three miles away. Sending directions to your phone and to the vehicle's GPS," Cas said.

"Cas, how do you know where Tara is?"

"She has a tracker."

"Why the hell didn't I know about this sooner?"

"You didn't ask."

"It was a rhetorical question."

"I understand the definition of a rhetorical question, but I don't understand the concept of asking a question and not desiring an answer."

"When I am not rescuing Tara from rapists, which is what I'm trying to do now, I'll explain it to you," Jax snapped.

He took a calming breath. OK. It was good . . . no . . . great news that Tara had a tracker. Best news he'd had in the last five minutes anyway. Now, he could find her and get her back before they could harm her.

He followed the directions, turning and driving through streets filled with potholes and cracked pavement until he pulled up to a grimy white rectangular building that used to be some kind of diner. It looked like it hadn't been open in years.

There was the Chevy Malibu and nine motorcycles.

"Tara is in the building," Cas said.

Oh, fucking hell. Now, it all made a certain sick sense. There were always wild tales about initiation rites different MCs used. There was an MC that was rumored to gang rape a woman as initiation. Now he knew that Kitty Cabal was a reference to that.

He didn't have to rescue Tara from a couple of guys. He had to rescue her from an entire MC bent on raping her.

For a split second, he thought about calling police. This was something he would never have done as a member of SAMCRO. He was a civilian now. It was an option.

Best response would be under five minutes. Even the greenest rookie would understand that the number of bikes and the car parked outside meant there were a lot of men inside. Another call for more back-up. Another wait. Maybe a call to SWAT. They might get Tara away from Kitty Cabal, but not before they raped her.

Jax parked a half block away from the diner on an unlit side street. The land was mostly vacant farmland.

He leaned over and opened the hidden compartment that contained a Sig Sauer 10mm handgun. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. He opened the hidden compartment within the hidden compartment. This gun was a dark midnight blue and, according to Louise when she briefed him on the SUV and its special features, it had a 2,000 round clip, full auto and a built in silencer. This was more than a tricked out gun; it had alien technology. Something to do with the bullets. A single shot was fatal. He didn't have to hit a major organ or body part. Even a survivable shoulder shot was deadly with this weapon. It was easy; point, shoot and kill.

He didn't have time to come up with much of a plan. He would just kill everyone. Neat, clean and no witnesses. He just had one more thing to do before going after Tara. He needed a failsafe.

"Cas, you need to make three phone calls unless you hear me cancel the calls within ten minutes from now. Call 911 and tell them you saw a woman being sexually assaulted and give them Tara's location. Next, I need you to call both Ryland and Hale and tell them Tara was drugged and kidnapped. I went in after her and if they are getting this message, it means Tara is being sexually assaulted at and give them Tara's location by a biker MC called Kitty Cabal and I am dead and you have called 911. Repeat what I told you to do."

Cas repeated back Jax's directions perfectly. He told her to be silent unless he called her name. He slipped the phone inside a small pocket in his leather jacket.

He felt a huge rush of adrenaline. Part was fear of what these men could be doing to Tara and part was the danger and violence of what he was about to do. He'd killed a lot of men in his life. He'd lost count. He had never killed so many men at once, but he knew he would enjoy every second of it. The rage that was building inside of him was the most intense he'd ever felt.

He had provided help for Tara if he failed, but failure wasn't an option. He had to save Tara before she was violently gang raped by a bunch of non-outlaw bikers wearing cuts with a cat on them.

Nothing was visible through the windows. Heavy, dark curtains blocked out any light and any view inside the building.

Jax walked to the back screen door of the restaurant and opened it. He held the alien gun in his right hand as he slowly opened the restaurant's door.

"Hey, Robert. What the hell took you so long?"

He saw Jax.

"You're not . . ."

Jax squeezed the trigger. The alien weapon worked flawlessly making only a tiny cough as it spit out a bright blue flash of light that hit the man. Jax grabbed the man and lowered him quietly to the floor. There was no blood splatter, nothing to show what caused the man to collapse. Jax checked for a pulse. No pulse. The man was dead or would be because his heart wasn't beating.

Jax remembered another feature of the gun; it didn't kill aliens. It only killed humans. If he accidentally hit Tara, it wouldn't hurt her. He didn't want to think about why aliens from another planet would need a weapon that only killed humans. He had to stay focused on rescuing Tara.

Jax walked slowly and quietly through the dark kitchen. He heard the scurrying sounds of mice and the crunch of his boots on trash on the floor. The air was filled with the stench of rotting Chinese food and rancid cooking oil. Jax held his breath to keep from gagging.

"Where the hell is Robert? And where did Steve go to?" a man asked in a deep booming voice.

"Let's get started. My Viagra has already kicked in," another said.

"If the guys are late do I get to move up in line?" a younger voice asked

"Shut up, prospect," the man with the deep booming voice ordered. "You are last and you only get a turn if we decide to patch you in."

"But what if they don't show up?" the younger voice asked.

"They'll just miss out," someone else said.

"Can't believe we got one this hot," another of the men said. "I thought we were going to have to settle for that blonde meth skank until she walked in."

"It's too bad they can't suck your dick when they're knocked out," another guy said.

"She's a porn producer," added another.

"She's going to be starring in her very own film," another said and all the men laughed.

He peered around the corner into the dining room. The room was dimly light by a single overhead light. There were broken tables and chairs. Fast food wrappers and bags were strewn all over the floor. In one corner there was a rickety table with a laptop open on it. There was video of a dark haired young woman, naked, her eyes closed. Her body had that relaxed look of the unconscious. He couldn't tell from this distance whether it was Wendy, Brooke or neither. She did look familiar though. The room was the same one. Tara wasn't the first woman who had ended up in this place.

She was on a metal folding table with a faux woodgrain top in the middle of the room. The men were standing around her. She was lying on her back, her eyes closed. A man in his early twenties in a Kitty Cabal Prospect cut was touching her breasts and pinching her nipples through the fabric of her top.

"Leave her tits alone and get her pants off," a man two inches taller and seventy pounds heavier than Jax ordered. "With that Viagra, I bet I can go three rounds with her."

The tall heavy man had his jeans unzipped with his dick out, hard and ready to take the first turn. He had a president's patch on his Kitty Cabal cut.

"Make sure to get a close up of my dick going in," the president said to a guy holding a video camera. "I love ripping into a pussy for the first time."

Next Up: Who the hell knows what the future holds? Or if there will be another chapter.