"Thank you for doing this, baby," Victor said solemnly. He watched as Delylah slid on a deep red maxi dress. It was long and flowy, and Victor watched as she walked past. A faint glimpse of leg showed through the skirt as she searched for a pair of flat, golden sandals.
"You're welcome," Delylah replied, stopping just long enough to kiss his forehead. Before he could capture her and pull her closer, she deftly escaped, focused on the task ahead. She walked over to the closet and sank to her knees, searching its depths for her favorite summer shoes. Victor couldn't help but stare at her backside as she searched. Part of him instantly regretted contacting James; he'd much rather spend the day in bed with Delylah.
"Found em!" he heard her yell. He watched as she fell back into a seated position. He laughed as she slid the shoes on. Her face was almost childlike as she triumphantly smiled at him.
"You're so beautiful, babe," Victor stated as he slowly stood. While still hospitalized, he'd come to the realization that taking his time made the likelihood of dizziness or imbalance slimmer. Delylah stood and walked over to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her head on his broad shoulder. His hands clasped her waist. For a moment, they quietly stood, completely still, the mood suddenly somber.
"I love you," she murmured.
"I love you, my Lala," he said with a slight smile. His mind drifted to that July night, to Abel and Hannah's wedding, where she'd stood so far away from him. He'd told her that Lala was a childish name, but now, he used it as a term of endearment. How different everything was now—how drastically everything had changed in the weeks that had passed. He couldn't even imagine going back to California now, but he knew the time would come where he'd have to go back. He was almost grateful for his injury—it bought him precious time to figure out what his next move would be.
A loud horn broke the silence. True to his word, Jax had arrived for his daughter. Delylah gently divested herself of Victor's grasp, even though she was loathe to do so.
"You comin downstairs?" Delylah said with a sweet smile.
"Of course," Victor returned. He followed her as she left the room. He felt almost human as he walked down the hallway, but when he hit the stairs, his head began to pound. He fought back nausea as he continued his descent down. Delylah had already made it to the front door, and she swung it open before Jax could reach the doorknob.
"Hey darlin," Jax said as he stepped in. Victor stood on the last step, watching Delylah embrace her father. "Victor." The older man broke away from Delylah and approached Victor.
Victor stepped down and walked forward, taking Jax's extended hand.
"Did Lala tell you what I said?" Jax asked. Victor looked at his beloved with a confused stare.
"Um…no…?"
"If James gets unruly or just plain stupid, call me," Jax stated firmly. There was a piece of Victor that was slightly annoyed. I'm not some pussy, he thought for a moment. I am capable of handling that bastard. The dull ache in the back of his skull told him different, but true to his stubborn nature, he ignored the sensation and focused on Jax's worried glance.
"I think I can handle it," Victor said politely. His dark eyes were bright as he met Jax's eyes. Jax's mouth was set in a hard, firm line, and Victor's countenance matched that of the older man. Delylah could feel the strange tension between them, and even though she didn't understand where it was coming from, she sought to diffuse it.
"You ready, Daddy?" she asked softly, her blue eyes, eyes just like his, only sweeter and more innocent, staring into him. "James will be here any minute, and I know Thomas and Will are waiting at the police station."
Jax smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Sure, honey," he replied calmly. He looked at Victor once more. The last couple of months had changed the young man, but the stoic Marine and the consummate police officer remained. Despite the devastating blow that cracked his skull and despite the constant pain, Victor was a soldier. Before the wedding, Jax had met Victor maybe twice, and each time, he was impressed by the warrior that resided within the kid's soul. Still, beneath all the quiet strength and patience, rested a heart that seemed to beat solely for his Delylah. I just hope she doesn't make you weak, he thought. None of us can afford to be weak right now.
Jax watched as Delylah walked to Victor, and standing on tiptoe, kissed his forehead. It was incredibly chaste kiss, but the look in Victor's eyes was anything but innocent. Jax's fists clenched for a moment as he heard Tara's voice in his ears. She's a grown woman now, Jackson. Victor's good for her. Calm the hell down.
"I love you," Jax heard Victor intently whisper. Delylah smiled as she stroked his cheek.
"Love you," she whispered back. Her eyes were wide and her jaw tight as she looked at her beloved. "Be careful with that bastard."
Jax couldn't help but smile as his daughter's words registered on his brain. Every now and then, there were moments where his girls channeled both Gemma, and he couldn't help but enjoy it. In the years since Gemma's murder, he and Tara had both come to terms with the woman Gemma Teller had been. Now, when either girl demonstrated a Gemma moment, he smiled and tried to remember the good in the woman that had birthed him. Now was one of those times. Delylah smiled up at Victor, then turned to face her father.
"Ready, Daddy," she said. Her cheeks were flushed as she walked towards him. Jax looked at Victor.
"Good luck, man." Jax's voice was quiet, but he knew that, deep down, he was beginning to really love Victor and see him as family. Part of the Teller patriarch worried about Delylah's man, because James was a goddamned nightmare to deal with. He knew Hannah's absence had taken a toll on him, as did losing Ophelia to Lucius. Jax knew the pain Victor endured reached deeper than anyone truly knew. He felt for the kid and worried about him—just like he would one of his own. Jax knew now that, even if things didn't work out between Delylah and Victor, Victor Sinclair would always be family.
"Thanks," Victor responded. He held out his hand to Jax, who grasped it. To both Delylah and Victor's shock, Jax pulled the younger man in for a quick hug. Jax clapped Victor gently on the back, and when they separated, Delylah saw the glimmer of a tear in Victor's eye. She choked up but pushed the emotion down, careful not to make the moment awkward.
Goodbyes said, Jax and Delylah turned and walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind them. Within minutes, the sound of Jax's eight cylander engine rattled Victor's soul as he carefully sat in the cabin's living room. Jax is more of a father to me than James has ever been. The thought didn't bother him; it just made him question why he was entertaining seeing James in the first place. The thought haunted him as he sat and waited for James to show up.
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The conference room was a tight space, but it was a multipurpose space if there ever was one. It was an interrogation room, a banquet room, a holding room—calling it a conference room made it sound almost professional, and this space was far from that. In reality, it was one of two rooms in the Silver Spring Police Department that had a door, which made it a convenient place to meet, nothing more. Thomas and Will sat within the confines of the small room, waiting for Jax to arrive. Small, clean, and efficient, it housed a seven foot table and eight to ten chairs, depending on who was present. There wasn't room for much else.
"I don't know why we're fucking here," Thomas angrily mumbled. "It's been almost two months since Hannah disappeared—almost a month since Lucius took Ophelia—and we have no fucking leads."
"Babe, we gotta be patient," Will said, but even he didn't subscribe to the idea. In a town the size of Silver Spring, they should have had some sort of something. Witness Protection had given the illusion that they cared about the case, but red tape from local officials made it so much harder. Althea's hands had been tied too. This wasn't California, and it certainly wasn't Charming. Her clout was formidable on the West Coast, but in the rolling Appalachians, no one knew who Althea Jarry was, and no one gave a damn about her ties.
"Fuck patience," Thomas darkly stated. "Pop isn't going to buy that shit. He's going to rip Jack Petty apart."
Will said nothing, instead he stared out the plexiglass window that separated the conference room from the hubbub of the outside world. A flash of silver and gold hair caught his eye. A haze of scarlet cotton followed. Jax-and Delylah? Will's eyes widened with surprise. Jax hadn't mentioned bringing her. Usually, these meetings were an all-male affair.
The young Teller daughter wore her hair in a high, tight ballerina knot, which highlighted her creamy skin. The off-the-shoulder neckline she sported offered a stunning contrast in color, and her makeup free face was flawless. Will watched as every officer with a pulse stared at the ethereal young beauty. Will searched for signs of Victor, and not seeing him, he breathed a sigh of relief. Not even recovery would keep Victor from busting those guys in the face, Will thought with a jovial smile. Delylah is definitely off-limits.
The door clicked open. Jax and Delylah entered the room. Will and Thomas stood and exchanged embraces with Delylah. They followed suit with Jax. Niceties exchanged, they all sat and waited for the final person to show up.
"Where's Jack?" Jax asked Thomas. Will watched as they looked at one another. They were freakishly handsome. Identical eyes, identical blonde mops. Beautiful, angular jawlines. The only difference was their mouths. Thomas had Tara's fuller lips. Will loved those lips.
"The cop out there said he was running late," Thomas answered. "But he'd be here within ten or fifteen minutes."
"When was that?" Jax questioned as he sat. Will and Thomas flanked him, their backs all to the window. Delylah took a seat across from them, now facing the window.
"About twenty minutes ago," Will responded. He watched as Jax clenched his teeth in annoyance.
"Apparently, no one takes the girls' disappearances seriously in this motherfucker." Jax's voice was pure gravel as he linked his hands together. His blue eyes were fire as he anxiously waited.
"So what are we going to do about it?" Delylah's voice countered. Thomas' brows raised, and Will's mouth was agape; only Jax didn't seem surprised by his daughter's question. In fact, he smiled in response as the door crashed open. Jack. Jax's eyes narrowed as the portly officer made his was way to the head of the table. Like Jax and the boys, his window view was obstructed by the adjacent door.
"Nice of you to show up," Thomas drawled. It took every ounce of self-control to not punch that spoiled Teller kid in the face. It was originally supposed to be his day off, but when Jax called, he had to come running. I do have a life outside of here, dickhead. It was then that Jack revealed a self-satisfied smile. The people across the table didn't know he'd spent the morning with Sarah, calculating their next move. She and Jack both knew that Jax wouldn't be complacent anymore. They came to North Carolina to exact vengeance, to level the playing field, to be Karma. With that beginning, an end had to come. It was on the horizon now, but Jack was still trying to figure out how Jax would learn. He knew it had to be a multi-layered reveal—it was the only way to get the pound of flesh Sarah so desperately needed.
"I was tied up in meetings," Jack stated. His dark eyes were bottomless as he stared at the Tellers and Will.
"We're not interested in your excuses," Delylah's voice rose in the silence. "What we're interested in is whether or not you have any leads on my sister and my sister-in-law."
"I mean, you've given us fucking nothing," Thomas chorused. "It makes me wonder what the hell you've done to really look for them."
"My department has followed every lead possible—"
"No, you haven't," Jax interrupted. His blue eyes were fire as they stared at Petty's mottled face. Jax could see the fury rising in the older man's eyes, and he loved every second of it.
"Mr. Teller," Petty rebutted. "There are very few leads. Whomever took Hannah was very, very good."
"You know who to took my sister," Thomas joined in. "Fucking Lucius. You have an eye fucking witness to him taking her. I have no doubt she is with Hannah—which means you do know who did this. The answer's clear, as far as I can tell."
"Do you really think Lucius is alone?" Jack carefully posed the question. Of course he's not alone, he thought. Sarah and the Irish Kings are behind it. If your know-it-all-daddy looked past his dick, he would have put the pieces together. Rage boiled in Petty's gut. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't hate Jax Teller; he'd been faking niceties for the last eighteen years. He couldn't wait for a time where he didn't have to lie anymore. He was looking forward to not having to cultivate an American accent or pretend he was happy in Silver Spring. He longed to go back home—visits weren't enough now. He had grown older in the time he'd been away. It was time to finish this and go.
"Do you think your department is capable of following the leads?" Will, ever the voice of reason, spoke now. "This is a very small town, with limited resources. I know Jax has requested WitSec presence during the investigation. Where does that stand?"
"There's so much red tape," Petty returned. It was another lie, but they didn't know that. They didn't have to know that he was the reason Althea Jarry's inquiries for help hadn't gone any further than a simple phone call. He'd steamrolled everything during this investigation. The goal was to paralyze the Tellers, then dangle Hannah in front of them. Lucius' fuck-up with Ophelia Teller now added another complicated layer they had to take care of. It was a loose end Petty knew he'd have to eventually kill off, but as he reasoned with Sarah Sinclair earlier, the girl was worth more alive than dead. Have the Tellers show up, he'd told her. Have them think her safe—then murder her in front of them.
"When is the red tape going to fucking disappear?" Thomas asked. "I mean, I'm sure there are ways Althea Jarry can circumvent the issues—if you're allowing her to do it."
Tension peaked in the room. Jack Petty eyes narrowed as he glanced in Thomas' direction. He tapped his foot impatiently, unsure of how to answer.
"So what are you gonna do, Petty?" Jax asked. "I mean, we've been friends for years. You've known Hannah and Ophelia since they were small. Why aren't you doing more to help them?"
"I am doing everything I can, Jax," he smoothly lied. "Hell, I didn't even know you were WitSec until all this went down. Until July, you were Eric Morgan. Now you have bikers and a past none of us really understand, and you expect answers overnight—"
"I just want my girls home," Jax countered. "Every single day that passes is another day lost. I'm just worried—"
"Daddy—" Delylah intervened. Her voice was shaking.
"Just a minute Lala," Jax stated. He looked at Petty once more. "I'm just worried that we're gonna end up having—"
"Daddy!" Delylah screamed. Her voice was trembling, as were her lips. Her face was pasty white, and tears drenched her beautiful face.
"What, Lala, what?!" Jax bellowed. He was frustrated—frustrated that Petty didn't have any answers, frustrated that his worst fears were coming true. "What can't fucking wait?!"
"Look," she whispered, pointing out the window. Before Jax could follow the direction, Thomas and Will had beaten him to it. A low groan escaped Thomas' lips as he began to stand. The young man wept openly as Will quickly followed suit. Both young men were standing before Jax could get a clear view, but as he turned, Will and Thomas separated enough for him to see what the commotion was about. When the answer came into clear view, it was all Jax could do keep breathing.
Just beyond the window, at the information desk, stood a now visibly pregnant Hannah and a sick, pale version of Ophelia. Jax leapt to his feet, and before any of the other could even move, he was running out the door. The sound of his sneakers squeaking across the concrete floor were the only indication of his movement. Thomas followed close to his father, and Delylah followed her brother. Only Will lingered back slightly.
"Daddy!" Ophelia's voice was strained, but it rose above the din. Within seconds, his daughter was in his arms again. Together they sobbed, clutching one another, holding on for dear life. Without a word, Hannah was pulled in, openly crying with relief. Before either formerly captive girl could open their mouths to speak, they were separately pulled into tight hugs—Hannah by Thomas and Ophelia by Delylah. Will wrapped his long arms around his lover and his sister-in-law, and Jax did the same with Delylah and Ophelia.
"How-?" Jax jaggedly began. "How did-?"
"We'll tell you everything," Hannah calmly replied. "We'll tell you all we know, but for now—"
"Shhh," Thomas whispered, looking directly Jax's watery eyes. "We've got time, Pop. We do. We've got all the time in the world now. Let's just have this moment."
Jax closed his eyes. Thomas was right. There would be time for questions later. Maybe then, he'd get the answers he sought. Right now, it didn't matter. All that mattered were Hannah and Ophelia. What mattered was that they were okay—that Hannah and Abel's baby was okay—and as Jax's eyes scanned her now prominent bump, he saw that the baby was still holding on. They're both going to need a doctor—His heart began to pound, interrupting his thoughts. Tara. Tears began anew. Oh God, Tara—your babies are home. They're home.
The Tellers stayed that way for a while, and the entire office went quiet. The officers that were present just stared on in silence. Some of them felt strange, like they were intruding on such a personal, intimate moment. Others felt joy because the relief and happiness emanating from the family was nothing short of amazing.
Jack Petty didn't feel either of those emotions. He stood in the conference room, unable to move. At first, when the girls came into view, fear paralyzed his heart. He didn't know what either one of them knew, nor did he know if they'd discovered Sarah—or if Lucius turned rogue and helped them escape—but either way, staying clear of them was the smart move, at least in that moment it was.
Ophelia and Hannah Teller are here. The words were typed quickly, efficiently. It was mere seconds before Sarah Sinclair responded.
What? It was a simple question. Too bad it had an incredibly complicated answer.
Both girls just walked into the police station. Where is Lucius? Weren't you supposed to meet up with him? Again, no time was wasted in Sarah's response. This time, the response came in a phone call. Jack's phone vibrated in his hand. He silently closed the door.
"Aye," he answered.
"The Teller girls are at the station?" There was no hello, no greeting or salutation, just a simple question that required an immediate and simple response.
"Aye," he said, slipping into his Irish brogue. "They just—showed up."
"Lucius was supposed to be with them," Sarah said. "I'm leaving my house now to check in. I should be there soon. I'll figure out what's going on there—but you keep me updated as to what's happening there."
Petty had expected her to be furious, but she was calm—too calm. It was the eye of the storm. He'd known Sarah long enough to know that she was completely and totally capable of exacting exquisite revenge on her opponents. He'd seen it in person many times, and he knew he never wanted to be on the receiving end of Sarah Sinclair's anger.
"Aye, lady," he answered. "And ye do the same. Agreed?"
A dial tone was the answer to his question. Annoyance coursed through him, but there was nothing he could do now. He had to go out there, assess the situation, find out exactly what the girls knew. It was the only way he could see what the next move should be. Jax had relinquished his hold on his daughter. Hannah stood, almost alone, but Thomas' arm was draped carefully around her thicker waist. They still stood together, a unit united. Petty's heart pounded in his chest, but he tried to maintain control. As he walked closer to them, he knew that the game of revenge he'd been helping Sarah play hung in the balance, and any misstep, no matter how small, would destroy everything they'd spent years building.
You may have found your freedom, he thought as he neared them. But there's no way you're going to survive. A kind smile lit his face as he approached.
"I guess we didn't need you after all," Thomas murmured darkly the minute Petty came within earshot.
"Thomas," Will warned. "Let's just be happy they're alive, and they're here."
You better listen to him, Petty's brain yelled, even as he maintained his composure. Because soon, your entire world will be in flames. The cop pulled himself to his full height and ignored the comment. As he started to ask questions, a strange relief washed over him. He met Thomas' eyes for a moment, and his message couldn't have been clearer. Thomas glared and allowed a cold smile to creep across his lips. Petty returned the smile without hesitation.
You really have no idea what you're fucking with, kid, Petty thought. You have no idea at all.