A/N: All of the reviews. ALL of them were amazing. Keep it up with the feedback & I'll be happy to keep writing for you guys
P.S: Perception is everything. I find it interesting that so many readers drew the same (WRONG) conclusion that Jax did in the story LOL.
- Veritable Old Lady Crow
"I, do."
Tara wasn't standing with him at an altar. She wasn't wearing a poofy white dress. There were no bridesmaids, no best man, and no maid of honor. They weren't getting married, this wasn't their wedding day.
They were standing in her ex-boyfriend's bathroom.
And all it took were those two little words—that simple admission of what she'd known all along for color to flood her cheeks, for her temperature to rise.
Irrational fear had her looking down at his feet. She couldn't meet his eyes or he'd know just how badly she wanted the same thing he did.
But she had to stop.
She couldn't be half in, not like before.
Tara bent down. Picking up her shirt, she pulled it over her head, allowing herself a few seconds more to contemplate her words before she swallowed her pride and spoke the doubt in her mind. "I used to want that, too," she admitted quietly, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn't stop her mind from flashing back to all the things David had said to her that first night the line between friendship and being more went from blurred to obsolete—the night Opie's interruption was the only thing that kept her from doing the one thing she could never take back. "….I'll never be a first anything to you… …I'll just be another trophy for you to put on your shelf."
Jax's arms circled her waist, pulling her into him. Looking up, she met his eyes just as the tips of their noses touched. She felt this overwhelming urge to kiss him, but the solemn look in his eyes held her desire at bay as she bit her lip in anticipation of his response.
"…Being first anything doesn't matter if you're not the only…the only one that means anything."
Tara shivered as a chill ran up her spine, a tingling sensation that had her moving in closer to him—her lips just a whisper away from his. She didn't miss the slight shudder that rippled through Jax when their chests pressed together with only the thin material of her shirt as a barrier.
She could see it in his eyes—what he was saying without saying it.
But she was done making assumptions, done filling in all the blanks. Just as sure as she'd said exactly what she was feeling, she expected the same thing from the guy she was finally garnering the courage to open up to.
Tara's eyes were dual, heat seeking, emerald missiles locked and loaded on their target as she pressed her forehead against his. "Is that what I am to you, Jax?" she asked. If she knew it, it was deep down—too deep to calm the angst firing up every nerve in her body. She held on to hope instead. Hope that she was right in what she was feeling, what he was making her feel. Still, she needed to hear him say it. "…the only one that means anything?"
Tara definitely heard the crash.
But just like the abrupt open and shut of David's bedroom door, the sound of zippers being pulled down, clothes and shoes being pulled off, the moaning and lips smacking together—all of it registered somewhere in a distant part of her brain. At the moment her focus was singular—Jax had her undivided attention as she waited for the yes or no answer to her question.
Jax never answered her—not in those seconds before their private moment was shattered.
His blue eyes had left hers as he turned towards sounds coming from the other side of the bathroom door. He shook his head, a smile of amusement spreading across his face.
That was when Tara realized she'd been holding her breath. Her exhale was a frustrated sigh as his divided attention forced her to acknowledge everything that was happening in the background—in their background.
Over the years she'd had the misfortune of becoming very familiar with the obnoxious giggle sounding from the other side of the door. Donna might have thought Sarah was an attention whore, but she paled in comparison to Maize O'Keefe.
"She tried to make me jealous with that douche bag Hale today. It was a pretty damn good idea picking the one guy I hate the most, but she's seriously nuts if she thinks I'd ever be jealous of Davey boy. Any girl he fucks I've already been with twice…"
Almost everyone.
True, her and David had never gotten far but of course the Prince of Charming had gotten further with her—a hell of a lot further.
Jax had almost been with her—twice.
And just moments ago he'd had his hand in between her legs, slipping his fingers in and out of her. She'd worked him over with her own hands, too. A bomb could have gone off in the other room and she was at least confident enough in herself to doubt that Jax would have noticed it during either act.
Yet he couldn't wait until the end of their conversation to reminisce on any one of his many experiences with the second most annoying redhead she knew.
What did this bitch plant a tracker in Jax's tooth when he was passed out beside her during one of their weekend booty calls? How the hell did she even know he was up here? And what the—
"Jesus, Maize…"
David.
Maize was hooking up with David. She was bedding her ex-boyfriend—the guy she'd walked away from to be with Jax. David was about to sleep with yet another girl who'd only be picturing the guy standing shirtless in front of Tara when she kissed him—when she fucked him.
David Hale really knew how to pick 'em.
Tara pushed down the hypocrisy threatening to rear its ugly head as she seethed in silence at the cruel, selfishness of the chick getting busy with her ex in the next room. Her nostrils flared, her face hot as she tried to summon the calm she needed not to burst into the bedroom and drag Maize out of it by her hair.
One glance towards Jax and any hope of her staying put flew straight out the window.
But it wasn't indignation for her former beau that had her swinging the bathroom door open with a bang. It was yet another lethal combination of emotions.
Tara was disappointed in herself for being guilty of doing the same thing Maize was doing—using him. She was jealous—frustrated in more ways than one because she was the only person in either room that never "followed through", as Opie put it. She was the only one that never reaped the full benefits of behaving badly.
Anger was the conquering emotion of course.
In her eyes, Maize had succeeded—she'd reached the goal she'd been aiming for. Jax was too busy honing in on Maize's sex-a-thon with Charming High's football captain to answer her fuckin question.
And she was pissed—at everyone involved, including David.
Why? Simple.
Because she could be.
"I thought there was nothing going on between you two?" Tara sneered, her eyes bouncing between the cheerleader and football star. Her double take was so abrupt she'd nearly snapped her neck when her eyes flitted back to the bruises marring David's normally handsome features. Concern temporarily overrode her anger.
She'd nearly tripped over her feet as she struggled with which direction to take first—the path that led to him or behind her, in the bathroom, where the first Aid kit was.
Finally deciding on assessing the damage up close first, Tara rushed over to him, her hand immediately reaching up to his face, fingers lightly pressing against the curve of his chiseled jaw as she angled his face downwards to get a better look. "What the hell happened?" she asked.
Her question was met with stony silence. Tara turned, following David's narrowed eyes all the way to where Jax stood with a glare wholly identical to his. David's fingers circled her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face, but he was slow to let go of her. Tara looked down at the hand gripping her wrist only to find that the two young men in the room had yet another similarity to add to their matching angry expressions.
The knuckles of David's right hand were bruised just like the blonde practically foaming at the mouth behind her. Looking back and forth between the two of them, she recalled how quickly Jax had gone from concern and relief to anger when she'd asked him 'what happened before'. He never did answer her, but looking at the two of them she was able to draw her own conclusion.
"Jesus, Jax." Tara sighed. "Did you really have to go there?"
"Unbelievable." Tara's head snapped over to where Maize stood, her arms crossed underneath the lacy, red bra exposed underneath the unbuttoned shirt she'd put on—David's discarded shirt from earlier. "How is that you're always the one judging everyone else? As if you're innocent."
Really, bitch?
"I don't even know why you're here," Tara snarled. "Well actually, I do know. And you're wasting your time. Even if you hooked up with me it wouldn't work. It would probably just turn him on."
"Wow." Maize's eyes widened. "I didn't know you were into girl on girl, Mother Superior. Too bad you're not my type. I prefer someone a little less…frigid."
Tara opened her mouth to respond when she heard David smirk. Her eyes found his and she couldn't deny the pang she felt in her chest. She didn't like the way he was looking at her—not at all.
He was looking at her the way Sarah did—the way both Junior and Judge Jacob Hale looked at her. She didn't know how she managed it, but Tara pushed back the voice in her head telling her to cut her losses and move on.
"I know I don't have the right to tell you who you—"
"—you don't," David cut in. "So why even fix your mouth to try?"
"She's just using you, David," Tara warned.
Tara never thought she'd ever ascribe the word nasty to any smile David aimed her way. "You mean like you used me?"
Tara shook her head. "It's not the same th—"
"—how is it different?"
"I didn't mean—I actually care about you," Tara argued. Or at least she tried to. David was having none of it.
"Thanks, Tara," he sneered. "It means a lot that you care about me. Especially since you care so much you're fuckin this asshole in my bathroom."
Tara eyes briefly darted over to a shirtless Jax, then to the wide open bathroom door, her bra was still on the tiled floor where she'd tossed it aside. She knew how it looked, but it wasn't that—not exactly.
"I was—we weren't—David, look—"
"Seriously, Tara do you ever stop lying?" David challenged.
"That's what I want to know," Jax joined in. Tara turned to see him walking forward—pulling his shirt back on as he headed for the door. She reached for his arm, her fingers barely circling his wrist before he came to a stop, yanking it out of her grasp.
"You don't get to just walk away," Tara fumed. "We didn't finish our conversation."
"As far as I'm concerned, we finished what we needed to finish," Jax bit back, taking another step towards the door.
"Sounds like they're both tired of being jerked around," Maize commented.
"She probably jerked him more than she ever did me and I was her boyfriend for six months."
"It was five," Tara corrected automatically.
"Oh you remembered that little detail?" David's eyes widened in mock-surprise. "Too bad you couldn't remember that when you're with someone it's wrong to shove your tongue down some other asshole's throat!"
"We're past that!" Tara stressed. "I already apologized—"
"Did you? All I remember is you feeding me some bullshit excuse about how much you like me but not enough to stay out of his lap!" David snapped, pointing at a suddenly stock-still Jax. "You couldn't even wait a full twenty four hours to sleep with him? Or were you lying before? I bet you've been screwing him this whole time."
The thinly veiled pain behind his harsh words had Tara frowning instead of shooting her usual glare. "I was wrong and I'm sorry, David. But this," she said waving a hand between her and Jax, "it has nothing to do with you…what I do with him has nothing to do with you...not anymore."
"What about the other day? When you two were screwing in the school parking lot?" Maize interjected. "I wonder if Jax is good with that."
Tara chuckled bitterly, thinking back to the fundraiser. "That might have worked before but Jax doesn't even have a leg to stand on after today. So shut the hell up," she said, looking over at Jax.
His eyes widened briefly before narrowing to slits. That's when she realized his perception of her words. "So that wasn't just a rumor? You really did—"
"Yup," Maize answered.
"No, I didn't," Tara corrected, glaring at the redhead on the other side of the bed.
"You just stood there and told me, no, yelled at me that you didn't screw anyone."
Tara nodded. "I didn't."
And so the FUCK what if I did?
Man-whore.
"You just said I don't have a leg—"
"—I meant because of what you did with Sage—"
"—Sage?" Maize blurted out. "What the hell does Lauren have to do with—"
"—none of your business, bitch," Tara snapped, the control she had on her temper slowly slipping away. "I swear to God, Maize. If you don't shut up you'll be deep-throating my fist instead of his cock."
Maize wolf-whistled. "I'd ask you if you kiss your mother with that mouth but somehow I don't think that'll be an option any time soon, unless…have you felt any strange lumps in your tits lately?" Maize pointed her finger, waving it between David and Jax. "What about you two fellas? Ever notice anything strange when Princess Knowles actually lets you feel her up?"
Tara's answering laugh was nasty. "All you're doing is wasting your time, Maize. I was confused…conflicted. You? You're just stupid. Jax is never going to want you for more than what you've already given him…in front of half the fuckin school at that! And David is never going to respect you or take you seriously no matter how good you are with your mouth so if I were you I'd walk away without the black eye you've been begging me for since this afternoon. At least then you'll look a little less pathetic. These are my boys. And you need to leave both of them the hell alone!"
"At least you're finally admitting to fuckin them both," Maize swiped back. "I guess you're the slut you're trying to make me out to be."
"One more fuckin word—" Tara charged towards Maize, her hands flying out as if she could reach her when David slid sideways, body blocking her—his hands gripping the tops of her arms.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Tara?" David barked.
"The dick-down Jax gave her on your bathroom floor probably short-circuited her brain," Maize commented.
David ignored her. Tara did the same, her eyes locked with David's as she braced herself for the tirade she knew was coming.
"I'm not your boy. I'm not your friend. I for damn sure ain't your boyfriend. This is my room...you're in my house. So you don't get to decide whose welcome. I do. And I want you to leave."
Damn it.
This wasn't supposed to happen like this.
"David," Tara implored. "She's just—"
"—she can't be any worse than you," David hissed.
A sad smile spread across her lips. "It was fun being friends…for the ten minutes it lasted."
"You've got to be the shittiest friend I've ever had," David bashed. "You cheat on me…break up with me for the guy you cheated with…then you hook up with him in my bedroom."
Tara was resembling a bobble-head doll again, her chin quickly jutting left to right. "I didn't pl—we didn't mean—"
"—you're a habitual liar," David seethed, "a selfish, manipulative bitch…and the biggest fuckin cock tease I've ever met."
"You better watch your fuckin mouth!" Jax interrupted.
Finally on my side again, are you?
Jax had stood there in silence, watching the scene play out like he was in the audience at a Broadway play. Why was he all of a sudden ready to jump in? Why speak up for her now?
Maybe he finally believed all the things she said to him instead of what his pigheaded brain wanted him to see.
Or maybe it was the slight glassiness that had suddenly glazed over her green eyes. "Your father called me the same thing."
David and Jax wore twin expressions for the second time that night as two pairs of eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"What are you talking about?" David asked. The lack of an immediate response had his eyebrows unthreading, his earlier scowl back in position. "You know what? Don't even answer. I don't believe anything that comes out of your mouth. You're just like...like S—"
"Like Sarah?" Tara's smile was sharp, the heat emitting from her emerald gaze drying up any hint that tears had ever threatened to fall from her eyes.
Cock tease.
And yet another Sarah Hale comparison.
It was a deadly concoction—the simplest blend of ingredients for the Molotov cocktail David had unknowingly mixed together.
The self-made explosive came in the form of blunt words, determined actions—a reality check, straight up, no chaser. He'd finally tapped out on all the sugar Tara had left to coat the truth. And the brunette no longer cared to try making it go down easy.
"You're the third person to tell me that," Tara admitted. She shrugged her shoulders. "…maybe I am just like her…that would explain why we were friends so long...and why we bumps heads. Maybe we're birds of the same feather...maybe not...I know one thing. I may hate the bitch, but she definitely taught me not to hesitate to go after what I want…"
It wasn't forceful.
And there was no way she could have pulled him towards her if Jax hadn't allowed it. Tara placed one hand on his chest, the other curving along the side of his face. Tilting her head up, she pressed her lips to his.
It wasn't one peck after another either.
Their mouths never parted even as their lips opened, tongues dancing slowly, leisurely as if they were still all alone in the bathroom…or in the locker room…or in Opie's bedroom.
"You gotta be fuckin kidding me," Maize hissed.
The final tug of his bottom lip between her teeth before pulling back was partly for Maize's benefit. Tara looked over at David, taking in the sour expression she knew she'd find.
In the light of day she'd probably beat herself up about it but in this moment she didn't care—part of her wanted to hurt him the way his words had hurt her. And it didn't matter that she'd been the one to hurt him first.
"Get out of my house…biker whore."
Jax spun around, blue eyes blazing. Before he could charge towards him, an equally pissed off Tara hooked her hand in the waistband of his jeans in the back. Her other hand gripped the back of his neck. It was the act itself that gave him a brief moment of pause. That's was all Tara needed to circle him, standing between the two guys getting ready for round two.
"Are you guys seriously fighting over this bitch?" Maize complained.
Tara was spinning around when Jax grabbed her, forcing her to stay put where she was. The warning was clear in his eyes: If he can't go outlaw on David's disrespectful ass she wasn't allowed to flip out either.
Lucky for Tara, she had a better idea—one that would make them both feel better. One that was even more effective than rearranging the smart-mouth bitch's face.
Tara knocked his hands off her arms. Shoving against him, she gripped his shoulders, catching him off guard when she spun him around. Pushing him back onto the bed, she fell on top of him. Sitting up, her legs straddled his hips as she pinned his arms at his sides.
Tara released Jax's hands, turning to look over her shoulder at David.
"You should take notes, Mr. Football Captain," she taunted. "…that's a tackle motherfucker."
Looking over at Maize, the pure spite in her smile would have made Sarah Hale very proud. "and youu...you won't be scoring a touchdown with either one of them tonight. My earlier suggestion stands, Maisey…just get the hell out."
Maize looked like she wanted to punch her.
She also looked like she knew better than to try it.
I guess you heard all about Sage after all…
"Whatever, bitch," Maize hissed.
Tara looked down at Jax, dismissing the redhead the second Maize started walking. The shock in his expression had worn off. And the look he was giving her now had her feeling all types of—
"Both of you get the fuck out," David shouted at her back. "You got ten seconds and I'm calling the cops!"
It was hard to tell who burst out laughing first—Jax or Tara.
Tara was the one to respond to his empty threat.
"You're gonna call the cops?" Tara challenged. "Why? So they can write your parents a citation for having a house full of drunk underage teenagers? That'll go over real well with the Judge."
"I thought I would feel bad when he finally hurt you," David answered. "I even thought I'd actually be there waiting to pick up the pieces…Now I just hope I'm there to rub it in when this bullshit blows up in your face."
David turned on his heel, storming out of his own bedroom before he could catch the worry that seeped into his ex-girlfriend's features.
God, she hoped he was wrong—and not because it would give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.
It was because she didn't want to get hurt at all. No matter who was there to witness it.
"I'd tell you how fuckin turned on I am right now…but I think you can tell," Jax said. His hands slid up the sides of her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her waist.
Tara turned back to look down at him and his hands immediately left her waist to grip her face, pulling her mouth down to his.
She pulled back slightly, filling in the blanks yet again—before the confusion marring his features settled in good.
"I'm serious, Jax," Tara warned. "No more throwing David in my face…you hear me?"
Jax shrugged his shoulders. "Who's David?" He pulled her toward him again.
This time she pulled his hands from her face. "No more fighting with him either…I wasn't lying when I told him I cared about him, Jax. And I don't give a shit about all the fucked up things he said tonight. He's being a dickhead because he's hurt…I hurt him and at some point—when he let's me—I'm gonna make up for that. For now...I put him in his place the same way I'll put you in yours if you ever give me a reason to. Eventually he'll get over it"—he'll get over me—"and then we can start over."
"Tara," Jax urged, his eyes hard. "He's not your friend. He's never go—"
"—you don't get to decide who I'm friends with Jackson Teller. And I don't think you want to challenge me on that shit either. Because then we'd have to talk about your other favorite blonde...Wendy."
Jax sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Fair enough," he grumbled.
Not even fuckin close, Tara thought.
Out loud she said nothing, opting to lean down towards him, granting him the kiss he'd been angling for from the moment they were left alone.
She was happy to resume the usual dance of their tongues, the delicious friction of the bodies pressed together, chest to chest—until his hands found their way up her skirt, fingers hooking into the sides of her panties.
Pulling back, Tara swatted his hands away. Her expression was the most pathetic attempt at sternness ever. "I'm not hooking up with you on my ex-boyfriends bed. It's wrong…he didn't piss me off that badly."
Without warning, Jax gripped her waist, flipping her over. Tara's back crashed against the bed. He pushed her shirt up, relishing the hitch in her breathing when he slid down, peppering wet kisses on her stomach. Tara moaned as he palmed her breast, massaging them underneath her shirt—lightly pinching her erect nipples between his fingers as he dipped his tongue into her navel.
Tara was a fidgeting mess underneath his touch as Jax traveled further down. Slowly, he pushed her skirt up. And she spread her legs wide faster than automatic sliding doors at a grocery store.
Jax hooked his arms underneath the crease behind her knees. Pulling her closer, he sucked kisses along the insides of her thighs before gently biting the spot just below the hem of her panties.
The second his teeth grazed the tender flesh, Tara bucked against his grip and his name and the word please were a strangled moan on her lips. It tore his eyes from the dampness he could see soaking into her pink panties. He zeroed in on the desperate look in her eyes, the shameless plea he saw in them.
Tara's eyes widened when he suddenly slid off of her, standing at the foot of the bed.
WHAT THE HELL, TELLER?!
"What's wrong?" she said aloud, managing to keep a lid on her frustration—in her tone of voice anyway.
"Nothing, babe," he answered, smirking at the piss-poor job she'd done at keeping said frustration out of her expression. "…but what I want to do to you right now…it's definitely a first for me, too and I'm gonna be really pissed if someone interrupts me."
"Oh."
Tara's tone matched her facial expression—it was a bizarre cross between disappointment that he'd stopped and anticipation for what he was implying.
To Jax, it was fuckin hilarious. And when she glared up at him, all he did was laugh harder at her.
He held his hands out to her. "Come on, beautiful," Jax said, "we can do whatever you want…or do nothing at all. Let's just get the hell out of here. I hate being in this room."
"Where you taking me?" Tara asked as he pulled her up from the bed.
Leaning into her, he pressed his lips to the spot next to her ear before whispering, "Where do you want me to take you?"
It was a miracle they made it out of the room.
Tara was a shitty friend just like David said.
Why else was she rushing through the crowd of swaying of bodies, headed straight for her father's car without giving the teenage boy she'd came with a second thought.
She couldn't help herself. She was anxious to find out if Jax had meant what she thought he meant by saying she'd be his first time. His first time for what? He was so close, his lips inches away from the spot she'd wanted them. She'd dug her nails into the mattress to keep from grabbing a hold of his head, guiding his mouth where she needed it—where she desperately wanted it.
Was he lying? She had no way of knowing. The only thing she did know for sure was that she didn't give a shit. The act in question would have been her first and if it felt even half as good as it felt having his fingers inside her that was good enough.
Tara wondered if the shit-eating grin on Jax's face was a reaction to the way she hurried down the Hale's front steps, pulling him along—her hand entwined with his.
"This is why I call you track star," Jax joked.
"Shut up," Tara bit back.
Jax stopped short, jerking her around by her arm. "Right...I'm guessing talking is the last thing you want me to do with my mouth right now," he taunted, once again throwing her earlier argument back in her face.
Damn it, if he wasn't right.
"If I said yes…then what?" Tara questioned. He was already pulling her into him before she got to the word 'yes'.
"What happens if I say yes?" Jax countered, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Are you really gonna let me do it?"
Tara swallowed hard. "Let you do what?" she asked against his chest.
"Taste you," he answered before sucking her earlobe into his mouth.
Tara cleared her throat. "Would…would I have to—"
Jax pulled back, his hand already caressing her face before his eyes met hers. "You don't have to do anything, babe. And if I'm being honest….the only time I have fun with you is when you're having more fun than I am."
No blanks to fill in there.
"Is it really your—you've really never d—"
Jax shook his head. "I've never wanted to before. I don't even know why I want to now…I just do…Can I?"
Just when she thought she'd finally curbed the habit of tucking her hair behind her ear.
Tara's giggle was nervous. "Do you seriously have to ask?"
"I'll always ask," Jax answered, his eyes hardening. "That's the way it's supposed to be done. And when the answer's no that exactly what the hell it means…it means no."
It was terrifying the affect he had on her sometime.
It wasn't until just then that she'd even remember her dangerous close encounter with the stranger in David's bedroom. Still, she knew Jax's abrupt burst of anger wasn't aimed towards her. He wasn't even looking at her as his mind flashed back to earlier.
Or at least that's what she assumed he'd been thinking about as he suddenly cast an angry glance over her head.
"Jesus Christ."
"Jax?"
His eyes flitted down towards the inquisitive expression on her face. "Wendy's here."
"O…Kay?"
"You came here with Lowell, right?"
Huh?
"Yeah."
"You should go find him," Jax suggested, pulling out of their embrace. "I gotta go."
"Seriously, Jax?" Tara glared at the blonde sashaying past them. How pathetic was it that she knew it was Wendy just by the sway of her hips when she walked. Maize's laugh. Wendy's catwalk. When did she start noticing things about all the females that frequented Jax's bed?
"I haven't hung out with her in a couple days," Jax explained. "I just—"
"—you're ditching me for Wendy?"
Jax shook his head. "I'm not ditching you. It's just—she's—look, she's my friend Tara…and right now I need to check and make sure she's okay."
"She looks fine to me," Tara complained, crossing her arms.
"I'm starting to really enjoy all these chances you're giving me to use your words against you," Jax commented. "You don't get to decide who I'm friends with, Tara."
"I'm not sleeping with my any of my friends!"
"And I'm done sleeping with mine."
Tara cocked an eyebrow. "Oooh...Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
Jax gripped her face in his hand, slowly pressing his lips to hers.
Once.
Twice.
The third was a lingering kiss, one where it pained him to untangle his hand from her hair, letting the soft tresses threaded between his fingers fall when he pulled back. "I care about her, Tara. I just need to make sure she's good...more than likely we'll probably get high and bitch about how fucked up our parents are like we always do…without the sex. I am capable of hanging out with a girl without taking her bra off, Tara. And if you want me to trust you, you have to give me that same shot."
Both eyebrows rose this time. "You really think it's that simple?"
"Can we talk about this later?"
"You're asking me like I have a say," Tara answered.
"You don't," Jax admitted. "She's the only other person besides Opie that's never bailed—wait a minute—I don't mean it like that…it's just"—Jax looked over his shoulder. Tara followed his eyes, frowning when she spotted Wendy sitting on the steps, waiting for him—"…we'll sort all this shit out later, okay? I don't want you mad at me but I—"
"—fine," Tara conceded. She waved a hand in his face. "Go. Be gone."
Jax smiled. Shaking his head at her, he grabbed the hand in his face, kissing the back of it before turning to walk off.
Tara stood there, her finger absently tracing the wet mark his lips left on her hand. She watched his retreating back, her lips twisting into a pout as Jax sat down beside Wendy on the steps.
The insecurity she felt was almost overwhelming, crushing her spirits—all the way up to point when Jax's hand went from rubbing Wendy's shoulders, to pulling the dark, oversized sunglasses from her face. Even from a distance, the bruises lining her eyes were unmistakable. And it wasn't until she spotted the cut below her eyebrow that Tara also noticed the slight split at the corner of her lip that was in plain sight before he'd ever lifted her shades.
Oh my God.
Jesus Christ was right—Jax's random outburst was spot on.
Tara had no clue what happened.
And as she walked around to the side of the house, avoiding the front entrance above the steps where they sat, she couldn't quite shake the guilt she felt—she knew it was wrong but she was relieved Jax had a real reason for leaving her for Wendy.
Maybe he really was just trying to be a good friend after all.
The Hale's backyard was empty—for the most part.
It was mere seconds before Tara spotted Lowell, hands roaming all over the girl she recognized from her art class, one leg curled around his waist as he pressed her back against the house.
Go Lowell, she thought, smirking. She was thrilled that at least one of them was getting a happy ending tonight.
"HEY, ASSHOLE!"
The young man who turned the corner right behind her, however—he had a difference of opinion.
He zipped past her too fast for Tara to catch even a glimpse of his face. Lowell was completely oblivious to the six-foot-two male approaching him from behind. Tara stood at the perfect angle to see the girl's eyes stretch to the size of saucers when the guy yanked them apart.
"Get the hell off of her!" he yelled, before turning to glare at the young women still leaning against the house. "Are you out of your mind? Let's go, Kendra."
"Sorry, dude," Lowell Jr. slurred, tripping into the glass table in the center of the back patio. "I didn't know she…had…a b-boyfriend."
"I'm her brother, asshole…What the hell is wrong with you? Hooking up with a drunk girl."
Tara snorted. "You're kidding me right?" she said to the guys back. "He's just as drunk as she is."
"Mind your business, bitch," he answered. "No one asked you." He didn't bother turning around to acknowledge her. He was too busy reaching for his sister—Kendra's strappy heels and the alcohol in her system were a poor combination where her equilibrium was concerned.
Lowell's legs were almost as wobbly as hers, but it didn't stop him from reaching for her as well, trying to break her fall before she fell face first and broke a few teeth on the concrete.
Big Brother shoved his arms away, the force sending Lowell crashing against the table, cracking the glass slightly.
"Hey Hulk-a-lese!" Tara snapped, moving forward. "You do know there's more than one way to take advantage of a drunk person, don't you? It doesn't have to be sex. You could attack them knowing their too drunk for it to be a fair fight. Pussy move if you ask me…but no one did ask, huh?"
"You never know when to shut your damn mouth."
Tara missed it when Kendra's brother spun around to face her because she'd already turned her head towards the sound of Opie's voice.
"What the hell are you, my guardian Angel?" Tara exclaimed. "You keep popping up every damn where!"
Like a fuckin poltergeist, she added in her head, smirking as she recalled Jax's words.
"You know the saying pick on somebody your own size?" Opie taunted. "You and Donna might want to try it sometime. I swear you two are like fuckin Chihuahuas that think their Rottweiler's."
Tara flashed her middle finger, sticking her tongue out at him briefly before turning back around.
He was facing her, and in his some distant part of her mind she made note of how gorgeous he was. Her primary focus however was on her inability to meet his eyes. She couldn't because the dark eyes in question were staring at her breasts and everything else below the neck.
Tara snapped her fingers. "Eyes up here, pal." She couldn't stifle her giggle when she caught the slight shake of his head—it was a lot like a dog trying to shake water from his ears.
"It's Tara, right?" His question didn't sound much like it need a answer. "you beat out my SAT score last year."
Tara smirked. "Pierce?" He nodded. "I beat all your ACT scores, too."
"I didn't think you were the partying type," Pierce commented, eyes once again drifting from her face down towards everything below it.
Tara felt Opie move past, behind her. His footsteps were followed by a loud grunt from Lowell—who she'd completely forgotten about—as Opie helped him up from his current position splayed sideways across the table.
"Why?" Tara wondered. "I'm smarter than you, so I have to be a nerd with no life?"
"I come to these things all the time," he said. "…and you're never there…the only time I see you is when you shove past me in the hallways trying to get to class."
Tara blushed. "I hate being late."
"I can tell," Pierce replied. "Listen I'm sorry about what I said before. It's just—"
"—I get it," Tara cut in. "It's cool."
"Cool…so I was wondering—"
"—I wouldn't if I were you," Opie interjected. Tara turned to glare at the half-giant teenager holding Lowell up by his shoulders. "Her boyfriend has the emotional maturity of an eight year old and he likes to bust people's faces in just for looking at her."
Troublemaker.
Pierce's eyes widened. "Oh, you have—wow I was hoping that whole thing with you and David was just a rumor. I've been meaning to talk to you. You're just always on the move and outside of school I never see you…"
"I don't have a—"
Opie's cough sounded a lot like "bullshit". It made both of them look over towards him. "You should take your sister home before someone has to help you walk," he suggested.
"Opie!" Tara scowled.
Opie snickered. "You know I'm right."
"I'm sorry," Tara said, looking up at Pierce.
He nodded his head, smiling. "It's cool. He's right.I need to get her home and sobered up a bit before my folks notice she broke her curfew again. I'll see you around though, Tara."
"Yeah…sure."
Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, Pierce tucked his other arm under the bend of her knees, lifting Kendra up into his arms. Walking off, he looked back briefly, smiling as Tara held a hand up to him until he disappeared around the corner of the house.
"You trading in the jock for a nerd?" Opie teased.
Tara held her hand over the knots that were coiling in her stomach—she couldn't stop laughing when Lowell keeled forward, throwing up right where Opie was about to step, knocking him off balance as he skirted away from the carnage.
"How'd you know I was back here anyway?"
"I saw you guys leave the house," Opie said. "Caught up with Jax on the steps. He said he saw you walk back here."
Chunks splashed Opie's jeans as Lowell leaned over again emptying the contents of his stomach all over the patio.
"I think he's regretting those last few shots he took."
Tara shook her head. "What a lightweight. I only gave him two."
"Hmm..your two plus my five," Opie said.
"Jesus, Ope. I wanted him to loosen up, have fun, not get alcohol poisoning."
"He'll be alright," Opie stated. "He's done for the night though. You ready to go? I'll help you get him to the car."
Opie and Tara were just a few short steps away from the Cutlass when Jax and his favorite blonde caught up with them.
"What's wrong with, LJ?" Wendy's voice rang out.
Tara turned, almost dropping him. "First time always sucks," she said recalling her first night of underage drinking.
"I know that," Wendy teased. "Do you?" Tara shot her a glare, her eyes narrowing even more when she caught Jax subtly elbow Wendy in her side, shaking his head once at her. "Sorry."
She wasn't sorry at all, but Tara chose to let it go, deciding she'd rather change the subject. "Are you okay?" she asked, echoing the question Wendy had asked her earlier in the day.
Wendy's smile was wry. "My moms boyfriend is in town again...I'll heal...don't go getting all Doctor Knowles on me either. Save the nursing routine for RAMBO over here."
"Whatever you say."
Wendy looked away from the concern in Tara's eyes, smirking at Opie.
"Where's your keeper?" Wendy asked, looking up at him.
"Donna is—"
Several cars screeched to a halt in the middle of the road.
Only one of them stood out among the sudden street-full of ugly brown and yellow striped sedans.
It was quite the accomplishment the way she'd managed to beat the SJC police officers up the driveway on such short legs as she rushed towards them.
"—running towards us like a bat out of Hell," Tara finished for Opie, pointing to the side of them just as soon as the loud beep from the blow-horn in Sheriff's hand pierced their eardrums.
Whether someone had glimpsed them through the window or the collective screech of tires managed to break through—the music was dead before the first officer made his way up the hill.
"PARTY'S OVER! ANYONE WHOSE STILL HERE A MINUTE FROM NOW IS GETTING HANDCUFFED AND CARTED OFF TO JUVIE FOR THE WEEK."
The Hale lawn was a swarm of high schooler's and College lowerclassmen scrambling across it. The five teenagers standing beside the Cutlass watched as everyone scampered left and right, making a run for it.
"You're a little for the party," Wendy shouted as Donna came to a stop in front of them.
Tara was the first one to notice the grief-stricken look in Donna's eyes. Opie was a close second as he placed a hand on her shoulder, tilting her chin up.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"I snuck out," Donna stammered, her eyes glistening. "…you weren't home s-s-so I went by the clubhouse looking for you…and no one was there… no one except Lowell's dad. He told me…he s-s-said…" Her tears were a steady stream pouring down her face.
"He said what?" Opie pushed at her cheek, angling her face back towards him when she turned in Jax's direction. "Donna, look at me... Right now you're scaring the shit out of everyone standing here. What the hell happened?"
She didn't have to answer the question. The frightened look in her eyes was enough for Tara's blood to run cold.
Dear God, she knew that look.
"Someone died." Tara's voice was flat, cold as ice. She wasn't simply guessing. It was the only conclusion that made sense to her. Everyone's eyes snapped towards her.
Donna's were the widest of all—the most alarmed, horrified. "No, no, no, he's not dead"—yet. She'd heard it in her voice even if nobody else did—"but it's really bad…" Donna turned towards Jax, blue-gray eyes begging him to understand—what, Tara didn't know. "It's your dad, Jax. JT was riding—"
"Jackson Teller?" Jax never peeled his eyes away from Donna's, completely ignoring the officer standing behind him.
"Yeah, that's him," barked an unfamiliar voice.
"You're under arrest," the officer said before pulling both of Jax's arms behind his back, handcuffing his wrists.
Jax didn't resist at all. He stood there like a statue, staring at Donna as if her finishing her sentence—telling him something other than what he knew he'd hear if she did—was the only thing that would bring him back to life.
"What the fuck for?" Opie asked.
"For almost killing my son you delinquent piece of shit! He was part of it! I want him cuffed, too!" shouted a man that could have been Kyle the Jock's twin if not for the receding hairline and grey streaks in his hair.
Tara's feet moved of their own volition as she placed her hand on the arresting officers arm. "He didn't do anything wrong! He was defending—"
"I'm gonna ask you one time to refrain from putting your hands on—"
"—this is bullshit!" Opie yelled, as his hands were twisted behind his back.
"You can't arrest them!" Donna shrieked. "They need to be with their family. Jax needs to—"
"—what the hell happened, Donna?" Opie yelled again, as both he and Jax were pulled down the driveway towards the waiting police cars.
"I don't give a shit, Uncle Quint! If he's not down here in the next two minutes—JUST TELL UNSER TO HURRY THE HELL UP!"
Tara jumped at the volume of Kyle's voice behind her. She turned to see Sarah standing beside him, her arms crossed under her chest, smiling.
"I guess Gemma's the only Teller that's above the law. Too bad Jax can't get away with trying to kill someone in a blind rage," Sarah taunted.
"Now's not the time," Kyle tried to reason, but Tara was already seeing red.
She needed somebody—anybody to blame for this. Who better than Sarah?
"You did this?" Tara accused.
Sarah shrugged. "Even if I did what the fuck are you going to do about it?"
ARGHHHHHHH.
Tara nailed her second tackle of the night as she pounced on the honey-blonde, knocking the smug grin off her face, smacking the taste out of her mouth, too as she landed on top of her chest.
She drew her hand back, her fist balled tight as she swung. "STOP." Thwack. "FUCKIN" thwack. "WITH." Crunch. "HIM!"
And me!
Strong arms pulled her up by her waist. The same hands that braced her until she was standing upright, yanked her hands behind her back, cuffing them together.
"I'm pressing charges on this crazy bitch," Sarah spat, blood spraying from her mouth.
"Yeah, no shit," the officer mumbled as he pushed Tara forward. "Let's go, Ali."
"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST CRAWL BACK WHEREVER THE FUCK YOU CAME FROM?!" Donna bellowed, charging towards Sarah before she could even get off the ground good.
"We're running out of space, sir."
"And handcuffs."
"Calm down, Tinkerbelle!" Wendy yelled, wrapping her arms around Donna's small frame. "Time or place…it's neither right now, sweetie."
Ain't that the fuckin truth, Tara thought as the officer holding her captive pushed at the back of her neck, urging her to quickly dip her head—to avoid getting a concussion when she was rushed into the backseat of the squad.
Seated right next to a frozen, eerily quiet Jax.