12 Rounds

by barefootblonde

Fresh out of prison and with nothing left to lose, Jax joins the underground fight scene in Reno to make some fast cash while the club is there helping the IRA smooth over a deal with the Russian bratva. As he spends more time in Reno, and debates his future with the club, he gravitates to a pretty casino lounge performer, who's more entangled with the bratva than he knows.

2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Ho-ly shit," Juice exhaled as they stepped inside their accommodations for the weekend. Jax was right behind him and just about stopped in his tracks when he got a good look around.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath.

He tossed his bag onto the full-length table off to the side, and hitched his hands on his hips as he surveyed the suite they'd been set up in. At first, they hadn't quite believed the lady at the front desk when they checked in - the penthouse suite? Was she fucking serious?

Putlova was really pulling out the big guns for this deal. The whole thing was like something out of The Hangover - except this was goddamn Reno, not Vegas. Between the wall of windows, wrap-around bar, leather sofas, connecting bedrooms, and a pretty impressive view of the city and the mountains stretching just beyond it, this was… more than he'd anticipated.

Happy and Bobby filed in right behind him, and while Bobby seemed appropriately awed by their current situation, Hap looked more annoyed by all this than anything.

It was a pretty sick display of wealth and stature. And it wasn't like they didn't know exactly what Putlova was playing at with this batshit crazy penthouse.

And just because he couldn't help himself, Jax took a quick turn to the left, found the bathroom, and peeked inside.

"What're you doin', Jax?" Bobby called out behind him.

He chuckled to himself and shut the door. "Just makin' sure there's no tiger in there."

While they all had a good laugh over that, it just didn't feel right to let himself enjoy any of this. If Putlova did give them two spots in that league, they would definitely not be set up like this every weekend. Best not to get too comfortable. Best not to let himself feel too much of anything when he wasn't in the ring too.

After all, he wasn't here to let himself get wined and dined and spoiled by some Russian mob boss. He was here in Reno so he didn't have to be in Charming. That was it.

That and so he could add to the pile of cash he planned to give Ope's family on a regular basis.

That too.

But still, this wasn't the kind of treatment they were used to, and given the deal they were here to smooth over, all signs pointed to this turning out to be a pretty damn good weekend.

After they dropped off their bags, and Juice and Bobby helped themselves to the fully-stocked bar in their suite, they headed back to the elevator so they could take care of their first order of business for the weekend. Some strange jitters washed over him as he stepped inside the elevator and watched Happy hit the button to take them back to the first floor.

It wasn't exactly nerves.

It was more like… anticipation.

Like something was coming. Something was about to change.

Jax had never really taken much stock in things like fate or destiny, and he still wasn't sure if there was some higher power up there, pulling all the strings, but this felt different. Like turning the corner onto the main floor of the Wild Rose casino was like literally and figuratively turning the corner on something else too.

Maybe that was just a sign that these weekends in Reno, if he could swing it, were exactly what he needed.

This was the right call, at least for now. And if anything, it would buy him some time and some space until he could figure out what the hell he was going to do about the way he felt about his stepfather and his club president, not to mention the way he felt about his club too.

They were due to meet Putlova's son out on the main floor in about 30 seconds, and even though Jax had never met Valentin Putlova in person, he stuck out like a sore thumb. The guy was built like a fucking redwood - not just in height, but in mass too, and he had at least a good five inches on Jax, who, at six foot tall, wasn't exactly short.

Valentin straightened out from where he'd been leaning on the bar when he saw them headed his way. If Putlova's son stuck out like a sore thumb on the casino floor, Jax imagined the Reaper kutte on his back had just about the same effect. While the Reno charter was just a stone's throw away, and the Indian Hills one not that much further, they tended to keep their gambling to a minimum - it was hard to argue with wanting to keep business separate from pleasure as much as possible, and this place was nothing if not temptation after temptation for bad behavior and even worse choices. There were plenty of opportunities for that in the safety and comfort of their own clubhouse.

With the sounds of slot machines and a really annoying pop song filling the space between them, Valentin turned to face them with a stoic expression on his already stone-cold face. This guy just did not seem like he wanted to be here right now, and maybe that was fair, since it looked like he'd spent just about his whole life reduced to being one of his dad's henchmen.

Jax got that. He got it more than he was willing to admit.

Still, Valentin put on a decent act, letting a smile crack across his face as he held out a hand. "You must be the Jackson Teller my father's told me so much about."

"That's right," he greeted Valentin with a grin, shaking his hand. "Jax is fine by me. Nice to meet ya."

"Likewise," he shot Jax a tight nod. "I'm Val Putlova, and," he gestured with his head toward Happy, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you're the other fighter my father's so hard-up to meet. Happy Lowman, I'm guessing?"

Happy nodded, matching Val's stoicism point for point, pained smile by pained smile. They dutifully shook hands, and then Jax went down the line, introducing Bobby and Juice, who were just tagging along so they had a few more ears in this meeting in case Putlova tried to pull something stupid.

Now, Val gestured with his head toward a hallway leading away from the main floor. "Follow me. My father takes all his meetings in his office."

Jax fell into step beside him as they made their way down the hallway. As they ventured away from the sounds of pinging slot machines, they passed an opening to what looked like yet another bar, except this one didn't have any slot machines or gambling tables in sight.

All Jax caught was a glimpse of someone with bright red hair on stage and was that… the fucking "Thong Song" remixed as some kinda retro 20s thing? That was definitely a piano doing the brunt work of all that jazz mixed in with the singer belting out, she had dumps like a truck - thighs like what - baby, move your butt. Judging by the little bit he heard as they passed by, he wasn't sure if he liked it or if he was too surprised to really know what to think about all that crazy shit in the first place.

Val must've caught where his attention drifted because he gestured to the bar, which now seemed like it was more of a lounge-type of room than anything.

"We've got the best musicians in the area here," Val tipped his chin to Jax proudly. "Live music every night - pulls the crowd in when they need a break from the casino floor, they drink a little more, head back out to gamble, and then everybody wins."

"Sure," he just grinned back. He didn't exactly love the idea of having to make small talk with this guy, but there wasn't much he could do about it for the time being. "Just as long as they don't win too much, huh?"

Val pressed a wry smile to his face, "That's the idea," and then he gestured to a door off to the side. "This way. My father's office is right through here."

After they pushed through the door, trading the bustling casino for a stark, blindingly bright hallway that seemed to stretch on and on and on, they all seemed to sense that the time for small talk was over and now it was all about business. Besides, it wasn't like Val Putlova was exactly great company. He just oozed privilege like the well-bred asshole he obviously was, and the sooner they could ditch this guy, the better.

Lucky for everyone, Val strode up to an unmarked door, knocked once, and then pushed it open, gesturing for them to pass through the threshold. At first glance, Viktor Putlova's office looked like some kinda weird, obsessive fanboy's bedroom in his mommy's basement with boxing memorabilia covering just about every inch of wall space. And because Jax was too bombarded by the sensory overload, he didn't immediately notice the man in the suit sitting behind the desk.

That same man rose to his feet and moved around the side of the desk with his hand outstretched. He'd met Viktor Putlova only once before - the club's dealings with the Russians in the past had mainly been through on-the-ground operatives, and when they did need to talk to the man himself, Clay dealt with it over the phone. But seeing him this close, Jax had forgotten the presence he had, the kind, almost fatherly demeanor that sucked you right in and caught you off-guard.

"Jax Teller," Putlova greeted him with a hearty chuckle. "It's good to see you again."

"You too," he nodded as they shook hands.

But when he moved to pull his hand back, Putlova tightened his grip, holding firm as if he was testing to see just how long and how far Jax would let him push. So Jax didn't budge, unwilling to yield, and stared Putlova down with a tight smile on his face until Putlova finally flashed him a knowing grin and backed off.

And then he turned around and did the exact same thing to Happy, who, of course, opted to stand his ground until Putlova let his hand go. People had a tendency to only see Hap as one thing - a terrifying biker covered in tattoos, capable of the kind of violence people wrote books and made documentaries about. All of that was true, but that also made it easy to overlook the fact that although Happy might be lethal, he wasn't stupid. Or incapable of feeling.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me," Putlova started easily, gesturing for Jax and Happy to have a seat in the chairs directly in front of his desk. Juice and Bobby took their places right behind them, backing them up and ready to listen carefully.

"Well," Jax tossed him a grin. "We appreciate the offer to meet. We've been interested in these fights since you gave us an invite a few years ago. You've got a really amazing enterprise goin' on here."

Putlova chuckled heartily again, as if that little kernel of flattery was all he needed to hear. Maybe it was. Who could really tell where a Russian mob boss turned boxing fanboy was concerned…

"Well, thank you," Putlova grinned, leaning forward on his elbows now. "I appreciate that, coming from you, and as you can see," he gestured to the array of framed posters on his wall, "I take great pride in the work that goes into making it the enterprise that it is."

And now that he really had a chance to actually look at what was on the posters, Jax's eyes widened when he came across the larger-than-life image of Liam Kelly, with his massive arms raised high in victory.

"That's actually the guy we bet on," Jax jerked his thumb at the poster. "He's a damn good fighter."

The second the words left his mouth, he realized he probably should've used past tense because that fighter didn't fight anymore. Liam Kelly didn't fight anymore because he was in prison. They'd heard a few rumors about six months before they all found themselves staring down their own prison sentences, and those rumors had proven to be true.

That was the thing about these fights and the fighters in them - they gained a notoriety that just couldn't be bought, couldn't be harnessed. People in the outlaw world talked about these fights like they were NFL commentators or some shit, and everyone knew everyone who was involved. And because of that, the amount of money you could earn from these fights, whether you were betting or fighting, just skyrocketed every year this went on.

The fact that the fights were invite-only only added to the sort of mysticism and fascination that followed them.

"That's right," Putlova shot him a tight nod. "He was one of the best I ever saw in that ring. Still is. Now," he cleared his throat, gesturing down to the papers in front of him again, "how long you been fighting? I know you were just released from Stockton a month ago, but you didn't find that left hook you've got in these last few weeks."

Jax just shrugged, glancing at Happy before he answered. "On and off for a few years. We'd mostly get in matches when the club needed the extra cash, but it's just always been somethin' me and Hap were good at. Actually," he clapped his club brother on the shoulder as he spoke, "Hap's taught me everything I know."

For the most part. There were some things that just couldn't be taught - like reflex, speed, and instinct. Those were just things they both had, and how they both survived in and out of the ring too.

Happy, to his credit, just lifted a shoulder, like he was bored and they all just needed to get down to business already. Maybe Hap had a point.

"Of course," Putlova grinned. "And now that you've been out of Stockton, you've been in…" he glanced down at some papers in front of him, "seven fights? That's pretty impressive, considering most fighters in my league hold off to twice a month. Gives them a break, lets them heal up before they get in the ring again. But I also understand that everyone's situation is different, and if you need the money, you need the money."

And this was where Jax started to feel a little uneasy about this whole thing. He didn't necessarily appreciate that Putlova had painted them as desperate for cash, and so soon in the conversation too. Although, to be fair, he hadintroduced the idea first, but that didn't necessarily mean this needed to be discussed in any kind of detail.

"Hey," Jax spread his hands out with an easy grin. "It's not about the money for us. Gettin' in your league is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and we're smart enough to know we might never get the chance again."

There. Maybe if he buttered Putlova up enough, he'd drop the notion that Samcro was broke. They were broke, but their pride was still very much intact. And regardless of where Jax stood with the club right now, that did notmean he was cool with this arrogant mobster throwing the club's current financial situation in his face.

"That sounds like the right mindset to have," Putlova grinned sharply. "The second you start doing it for the money is the second it stops being any fun. Now, I've heard plenty about your skills in the ring over the last few years, and I have to say, that's really ramped up since you two got out of prison, but I've never had the pleasure of seeing you in action myself."

That was fair. Made sense Putlova might not necessarily want to pencil them into his league without knowing exactly what he was getting ahead of time.

"So, since you're here in town anyway," Putlova went on. "I was thinking maybe we use this weekend as a trial run, so to speak. You've been to some fights before - I assume you know the rules. I'll match you two up with some comparable fighters on my roster and we'll see what happens. How does that sound?"

Jax exchanged a quick glance with Happy, who just lifted a shoulder. Good enough.

So Jax mimicked Happy's movements and shrugged. "That sounds good to us."

They'd both fought two days before, but Jax was feeling pretty good, and Happy was definitely no worse for the wear. If this was what they needed to do - an audition, of sorts - then that was what they needed to do. There was something about all this that felt a little tooeasy, but then again, this was probably more of a formality than anything.

Then they shook on it.

Nothing left to do but show Putlova what he'd be missing.

---

The dealer went around the table for the last time this hand, and Jax's shoulders slumped when he got a good look at his new card. Shit. He was gonna lose again - for the eighth time in a row. Not a good fucking sign.

Sure as shit, Bobby got right up to blackjack, while Happy stared back at the dealer with an intensity that made that poor guy shrink back a little to put some more space between them. Jax didn't really have any other choice but to fold.

Now he was feeling a little itchy and a little restless too, sitting here at this table, and losing every hand he played. Whether or not any of this was actually a bad omen for his fight tomorrow… he didn't want to stick around long enough to find out.

Best to cut his losses and move on as fast as he could.

"I'm out for now," Jax leaned in to murmur to Bobby as he stood up from the table.

"What, you sick of gettin' your ass handed to you by this dealer over here?" Bobby waggled his eyebrows at the dealer, who was not amused.

Jax flashed him a cocky grin. "Nah. I'm just gonna go walk around for a while. You know, stretch my legs. Check this place out."

That was enough to appease his club brothers for now, who were too engrossed in what was happening on the table to really care one way or another. He clapped Happy on the shoulder as he passed by and headed away from the small group of Reaper kuttes huddled around that blackjack table.

He ambled around the casino's main floor, trying to decide what he really wanted to do and where he really wanted to go.

Well, if that wasn't ironic…

He had no idea what he really wanted to do and where he really wanted to go. His life was a crapshoot, defined by one misstep and one tragedy after another. Right now, walking around this casino floor all by himself was the first time he felt like he was really doing something on his own, and on his own terms too.

It was such a simple, stupid thing. But this was the state of his life - that something as trivial as going for a walk by himself in a casino was somehow this monumental thing that held any kind of meaning.

But it was more control than he'd had in some time, so he was going to take it.

Besides, this was the first time in too long that he could just sort of… be. Nobody was looking at his kutte too closely because they had better things to do. Nobody was trying to get his attention or hang all over him. Nobody was scrutinizing every move he made and looking for signs of weakness. And nobody was pressuring him to do anything he didn't want to do.

Even in this smoke-filled casino surrounded by strangers, he felt like he could finally breathe.

And so it was completely thoughtless, and with zero plan, that he found himself wandering inside the same lounge they'd passed by about an hour before on the way to see Putlova. What the hell was this song? He just couldn't figure out what he was hearing, and maybe that was why he just meandered deeper inside until he leaned an elbow on the bar at the back of the lounge.

The guy on stage was really getting into it, swiveling his hips around as he crooned, "I broke apart my insides, help me - I've got no soul to sell, help me - the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself…"

So, this was happening. He was standing here in this lounge, with his elbows on the bar, listening to some kinda funk version of a dirty Nine Inch Nails song. It was weird. Really weird. He kinda liked it too. And when the guy on stage got to the best line in the whole song, the girl sitting at the piano dropped a sick bang on the keys, cutting out the fuck in the line I wanna fuck you like an animal at the exact right moment, timed to a T - and much to the delight of the crowd too.

He found himself grinning in spite of everything else, and in spite of the fact that he still wasn't quite sure what he'd just stumbled across. His head tilted to the side so he could get a better look at the girl at the piano as that absentminded grin on his face spread even wider.

The weird 70s soul-funk vibe actually worked pretty well for a song he'd only ever heard blaring from the speakers in the clubhouse while croweaters and hangarounds grinded up against each other. So when the song ended, he clapped right along with the crowd and then lit up a cigarette, settling in to see what else the band was going to throw the audience's way.

It wasn't like he had anything better to do right now anyway.

The next song slowed things way down, as the singer with flaming red hair that he'd seen earlier stepped up to the mic and the girl at the piano played a few pretty notes to intro her in.

He didn't recognize this one, even though most of the crowd seemed to know it, and a couple ladies at the end of the bar were even singing along, "I know you heard about me, so hey, let's be friends, I'm dying to see how this one ends, grab your passport and my hand…" Not knowing the song was actually just fine. In fact, it kinda sounded like this was just the way this song was always meant to be played and sung - slow and a little bit sad, dripping with those vintage notes coming from the piano.

Jax took this little reprieve and just listened. His eyes lingered on the girl sitting at the piano, with her dark hair swept back at the base of her neck as her fingers danced up and down the keys. While the singer was working overtime for all the attention and all the applause, he just couldn't take his eyes off the girl at the piano. She was really the one anchoring each song and doing all the heavy lifting to carry whatever style each song took on. This girl was obviously the most talented one on that stage.

She was also the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.

And it wasn't even just that. It was the way that piano was just an extension of her body. The way her dark eyes swept around the crowd, taking it all in, reveling in just how much they were enjoying the song, her graceful movements perfectly poised but still completely in the moment.

Maybe that was it.

Just how goddamn in the moment this girl was. How alive she looked. How present.

He wondered fleetingly what sitting at that piano felt like - if it was even more of an adrenaline rush than he imagined. He got that feeling. He really did. Felt it every time he stepped in the ring. His curiosity was piqued now, and he sat there, riveted with his elbows on the back of the bar and facing the stage, waiting to see what they were going to play next.

He kinda recognized the next one, although it was reworked with a 50s doo wop style that you'd probably be more likely to hear in a nightclub from that era, as the male singer crooned, "Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway."

And now, because his attention always seemed to drift to the girl sitting at the piano, he smiled as he leaned back against the bar. Toward the end of the song, she had a little back and forth with the singer - when he trilled up and down, she matched him note for note, almost as if she was answering him, and Jax found himself grinning again.

Jesus, he couldn't remember the last time he smiled this much. And voluntarily too. His reactions right now weren't prompted by guilt or a sense of duty. For once, he could actually just sit back and feel something because what he was feeling didn't hurt. Didn't make him hate himself, or anyone else for that matter.

When the band wrapped up that song, they waved to their crowd, taking in the applause and whoops and whistles - and Jax was clapping right along with them, and then the singer announced they were going to take a quick break. That break, it seemed, involved hopping off the stage and working the crowd for tips.

Fair enough, considering all the work they'd just put in. They deserved all the tips they could get.

He found himself watching every move she made. She was more petite than he'd expected - maybe that was just because she held herself so effortlessly and elegantly at the piano that she just seemed taller. And while she wasn't quite as animated as that singer with flaming red hair, or the other singer, the smile on her pretty face seemed more sincere, and more gracious too.

And when she made her way to the back of the lounge, headed right for the bar with an empty tray in her hand, Jax swallowed hard. And was that… nerves fluttering around in his stomach? What the hell was this? He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually felt a little nervous around a girl before. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually talked to a girl who wasn't his mother or a hangaround in the clubhouse.

He felt rusty, dusting off the cobwebs of the person he'd used to be. Or maybe that was always just who he'd thought he was supposed to be. The swagger, the confidence, the cocky smirk… had that ever really been who he actually was? Or had that all just been a carefully crafted facade?

He'd probably never really know. But all he did know, at least right now, was that he felt a little tongue-tied when that girl who'd just dropped the mic at the piano sidled up to the bar about three feet away from him and tipped her chin to the bartender to get his attention.

It was weird - these butterflies bouncing around in his stomach. And just as he was gearing up to say something, and what that exactly was he still hadn't worked out, the girl turned her head toward him, her eyes widening just a touch as she zeroed in on his leather kutte. And just as quickly, that initial surprise or maybe it was trepidation - he wasn't really sure - whatever it was slipped away. A friendly smile flashed across her face as she gestured to his kutte.

"Let me guess," she smiled as she inched a tiny bit closer so he could hear her. "You must be from California, right?"

He huffed out a laugh, shifting his weight on his elbow so he could get a tiny bit closer too. "What gave me away?"

"Well, I may or may not have heard a rumor we were hosting some special guests from Ireland and California this weekend, and since you clearly don't have an Irish accent, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you're a member of the MC from California. I mean, the kutte kinda gives you away, just so you know."

Jax made a little show of glancing down at the leather on his chest, feigning surprise it was there, and when his gaze flicked back to her, he found her dark eyes glittering with amusement.

"Aw, shit. I guess you're right. Guilty as charged," he smirked, holding out a ringed hand with a smoothness that surprised even him. "Jax."

She laughed as she propped her tray into the bartop so she could shake his hand. "Liv. Nice to meet you, and welcome to the Wild Rose, or more specifically, the Whiskey Barrel lounge."

Liv gestured out to the crowd behind them with her free hand, and he found himself grinning back at her with the kind of abandon he hadn't felt in a really long time. And he didn't even know this girl. Didn't know a damn thing about her either.

"Nice to meet you too, Liv. Hey, you know, I'm still not really sure what I was listening to when you guys were up on that stage just now, but I do know that you're talented as shit."

He bit back a wince the second those words left his mouth. That hadn't really come out the way he'd hoped. Of course, he hadn't really planned that far ahead to actually know what the hell he was going to say to her when he got the chance, but this also wasn't the greatest showing on his part. Jesus, had he completely forgotten how to talk to a pretty girl?

Yeah. He definitely had.

Here he was, finally off his leash, and the first thing he did was swing and miss so epically he almost didn't recognize himself.

"Thanks," Liv grinned back at him. Maybe he hadn't completely blown his shot to at least have a normal conversation with her. "We have a lot of fun up there."

Once again, he found himself unable to control the smile on his face. "Well, it was fun to watch too. Like I said, I'm still not really sure what I was listening to, but I liked it."

Liv huffed out a laugh, her attention momentarily distracted when the bartender finally got around to filling the orders she'd just taken from the floor. She glanced at Jax from the corner of her eye, as if to tell him to just hang on a second, and then leaned onto the bar to give the bartender the list of drinks she needed. When she turned back to him, her dark eyes widened at something over his head.

He shifted his gaze to the left, just in time to catch a glimpse of Val Putlova hovering at the lounge's entrance. Their eyes met from across the bar and Val tipped his chin to Jax in acknowledgement. Then Val's attention focused back on Liv, who was busying herself with stacking up some drinks on her tray, careful to keep her head down and her gaze firmly in front of her.

He didn't really have time to process that because she was already gesturing to the empty space in front of him.

"You don't have a drink in front of you," Liv smiled warmly, but that smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Can I get you something? A beer?"

Now, his eyebrows flicked into his forehead in amusement, and she seemed to relax when Val disappeared from the lounge's entrance. That was certainly a far cry from the tension that had just been radiating off her in waves a moment before. At this point, he was just happy to talk to someone who didn't want something from him, who wasn't trying to get him to do something he really didn't want to do, and who wasn't really listening to what he had to say anyway.

They'd barely said more than a handful of words to each other, but this was the most relaxed he'd felt around another person in years. Literally.

All he wanted to do was just keep talking to her for a little while. That was it, and that was enough too. And he remembered she'd also sorta asked him a question.

"Nah," Jax just batted a hand her way. "I'm good. Thanks, though."

"You sure? Whiskey maybe instead of beer?" she tilted her head to the side as she assessed his white sneakers, baggy jeans, white T-shirt, and leather kutte. "I don't know. You kinda strike me as a whiskey guy."

He barked out a laugh, giving himself a moment just to relish how good that felt. "Nah. Like I said, I'm good. I gotta fight tomorrow, so no alcohol for me until after the fight. Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way, and that's a mistake you never make twice."

Liv's lips lifted at the corners as she hoisted her now-full tray up in her arms. "He let you in the league already?"

He had to school the surprise that must've flickered across his face - Liv seemed to know a little bit more than the average employee about the goings-on around this casino. He couldn't imagine it was common knowledge that they were coming, not to mention who had yet to still arrive.

"Well," he just shrugged. "It's more of a trial run right now, but it'll be on a more permanent basis after tomorrow."

Her eyebrows shot up into her forehead. "Pretty confident, aren't we?"

"Oh yeah," he smirked back. "I've got nothin' to worry about. Don't even bother wishin' me good luck 'cuz I don't need it."

Liv's dark eyes narrowed, as if he'd just gone a little too far. Hell, even he thought that was too far - overconfidence and swagger had served him well in the past, but that was then. This facade of ironclad self-confidence felt like wearing a Samcro sweatshirt that Gemma'd accidentally shrunk in the dryer - it just didn't fit anymore.

"Well, in that case," she threw him a wry grin as she moved to step back out onto the main floor of the lounge. "I won't bother. You'd better win now though."

"No worries, Liv," Jax smiled back, but this felt more genuine than it had just a second ago. This wasn't unearned self-confidence right now. This was the truth. "I'll win. I always do."

She just lifted a shoulder and then perched the tray onto that same shoulder like the seasoned pro she obviously was. That wary look on her pretty face also told him he hadn't said anything she hadn't heard before.

"Alright, Jax," she smirked right back. "We'll see about that."

Then she shot him a wink, turned on her heel in that sparkly navy blue dress she was wearing, and started delivering those drinks.

Alright, he thought with a smile as his eyes followed her movements around the floor. Challenge accepted.

---

When Liv and Jo made their way downstairs to the basement, the whole place was already jam-packed. They'd purposefully arrived at 8:30 on the dot, a full 30 minutes before the fights were due to start, but they also had a job to do, and part of that job was making sure everything was in order for whatever Viktor had planned after the fights.

As far as she knew, nothing had changed about the way these Saturday fight nights operated. The rules had more or less stayed the same over the years, even before Liam started fighting, and that probably had more to do with Viktor's if it's not broken, don't fix it mentality when it came to these fights he loved so much.

"So where's that MC fella you were chattin' up yesterday?" Jo leaned in to murmur in her ear. "He was something else, huh?"

"Uh huh," Liv laughed as they got down to the main floor where all the action was. "And he thought so too."

That same MC fella wasn't anywhere to be seen just yet, but the fighters were also corralled into a back room before they were let loose for the fights - like gladiators waiting for their turn in the arena. He'd popped up at the lounge again earlier today, but he'd left before their set was over. Almost as if he knew she hadn't exactly been buying what he was selling and that she hadn't exactly been falling over her feet because he'd graced her with his presence again.

But all that being said - there'd been something in his eyes, anxiety maybe? A disquiet that didn't quite mesh with the rest of him. And everything else about him screamed cocky, badass biker who thought he was a little too cool for school. It was all working for him - his buzzed blonde hair, his lazily-groomed goatee, his piercing sky-blue eyes that had always seemed to focus right on her, his panty-dropping smirk… he didn't need to put on an act, and because of that, Liv couldn't really figure out why he'd bothered with it in the first place.

A guy like him didn't need to try at all.

By the time they pushed through the crowd to the private room Viktor had set up, it was pretty much what they'd expected. Per usual, Viktor spared no expense for his special guests.

"Shit, he's really rolling out the red carpet," Liv muttered under her breath. "They're just an MC and some Irish guys, right?"

Jo just shrugged, her hands on her hips as she surveyed this little party room. There were a few taller cocktail tables around the walls of the room, with one longer table right in the middle, most likely so they could conduct whatever business they had all at one place. And of course, there were two tables already set up on the wall closest to the door, already reserved for the abundance of food and alcohol that would be brought in shortly before the fights ended for the night.

"All I know is that whoever these guys are," Jo huffed. "They'd better tip."

"No shit," Liv laughed, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder.

All in all, there really wasn't much left to do, other than oversee the placement of things like the food and the alcohol, but that couldn't really be done until the fights were just about over anyway. By now, the basement was well past full capacity, with bodies wedged in every nook and cranny. Excitement and anticipation practically oozed from the walls - all these people here had gotten an elusive invite. Those were pretty hard to come by, and if you got one, you grabbed onto it and held on for dear life.

Viktor liked to advertise these Saturday fight nights as the type of VIP event that meant you were somebody if you were lucky enough to be here. Of course, you still had to pay your entrance fee and place your bets. She didn't even want to know just how much money he made, individually and for the casino, from each of these fights - it'd probably make her physically sick. The whole thing was just a gold mine for him.

But at the end of the day, these Saturday fight nights were really just civilized excuses to watch guys beat the hell out of each other. She'd never enjoyed it, especially when Liam was the one in the ring. He'd usually tell her and Jo to stay upstairs and wait for him to meet up with them after each fight, but she didn't even like knowing he was in the ring, potentially getting the shit beat out of him.

That rarely happened, but the cuts, the bruises, the fractured and broken bones had never sat well with her, regardless of the money Liam brought in with each fight.

But despite her better judgment, she couldn't help the budding excitement spreading through her stomach. She was intrigued by one fighter in particular tonight, even though she'd never admit that out loud, especially not to Jo.

With that thought propelling her on, Liv followed Jo out onto the main floor just as the lights dimmed and the music blaring from the speakers just got louder, signaling that the first fight was about to start.

She felt him before she saw him. Why she bothered to glance his way was beyond her, and when Val's mouth curved up into a grin, she suddenly felt dirty. She was going to have to shower tonight for sure to wipe away that slimy, creepy feeling. Her heart sank when he just settled in next to her with his thick arms crossed over his dark grey suit jacket.

Val clearly had no plans to take in the fights anywhere else tonight.

But heaven forbid she should ever suggest he move. She was just a lowly indentured servant, bound to do almost literally whatever his dad told her to do. There had to be somewhere else he needed to be, but he was right here, leaning in and was he…? Was he smelling her?

Liv shrank away, inching as close to Jo as she could. On second thought, maybe they were better off watching the fights from the comfort and relative safety of that private party room.

"Hey, Jo, I think maybe we should check in with the kitchen staff and make sure everything's all set," she said just loud enough so Val could hear her over the noise of the crowd.

Jo's eyes widened just a touch when she got a good look over Liv's head and saw how close in proximity Val was right now, but she recovered quickly. After that, it was relatively smooth sailing from there when they retreated back to the private party room - their view of the ring a little obscured, but that was fine, considering the alternative.

"Jesus," Jo muttered under her breath. "Can that man get any more obvious? Or fucking creepy? If…"

But she stopped herself short just as the lights went dark. The fighters were about to be announced, but it was just as well that Jo had gotten cut off there. They both knew what she'd been about to say. If Liam was here…

If Liam was here, Val wouldn't be hovering this way.

If Liam was here, she also wouldn't be in this position.

Thankfully, the announcer's voice filled the makeshift arena, "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you placed your bets because our entertainment is about to start. Let's give it up for tonight's fighters!"

A spotlight streaked around the room, hyping up the crowd and the fighters that were waiting off to the side for their introductions. The crowd roared in anticipation, and Liv glanced up at the box seats on the wall, positioned about 30 feet above the ring for optimal viewing. She found Viktor easily, who'd now been joined by Val and a group of men she didn't recognize, but some of them were wearing the same leather kutte she'd seen on Jax. Obviously, Viktor's special guests would receive nothing but the best this weekend, and that naturally included the best seats in the house too.

Each fighter was introduced, per tradition, one right after the other in the order of their matches. The first matchup was between the other new fighter Viktor was auditioning tonight and another fighter Liam had gone up against plenty of times and won most of those times too. When Jax's name was called right after, he lifted his taped hands up to the crowd, reveling in their applause and whistles for him. From the sounds of it, some of these people in the crowd knew exactly who he was, too, and Liv supposed that made sense if Viktor was so dead set on getting these new guys onto his roster.

Jax Teller and his other club member, Happy Lowman, had a little following already, and that was just good for business.

"Good Lord," Jo murmured next to her.

She gestured toward the ring, right at Happy, who was tugging his white Samcro T-shirt over his head to reveal a chestful of tattoos. Liv immediately huffed out a laugh and elbowed Jo right in the ribs.

"Come on, really?"

"What?" Jo just shrugged. "That is probably one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen in my life. The tattoos help, of course."

"Of course," Liv grinned, still shaking her head. But this was okay. In fact, it was better than okay. It had been a really long time since Jo had even bothered to look at another man, let alone talk about one.

After all, that was exactly what Liam wanted. Maybe it was about time she finally started listening.

The first fight started right on time, with the ref in the middle of the ring, as Happy and his opponent, a fighter named Rico Perez, took their places and their starting stances. Jax leaned both elbows against the rope as he yelled something to Happy and clapped his hands together to cheer him on. Once the whistle blew, Happy sat back, waiting patiently for his opponent to come to him. As soon as he found an opening, though, he swung his fist around, connecting with Rico's jaw with a hard crack that Liv could hear all the way from where they stood at the back. The rest of the fight was pretty much like that - Happy biding his time with a cool, practiced patience, and jabbing forward only when the time was right to lay a hit.

It wasn't the most action-packed fight she'd ever seen in that ring, but given the meticulous way Happy moved and landed each solid punch, it was clear this was an experienced fighter who knew exactly what he was doing.

These fights normally went for five rounds, mainly so they could keep the revolving door of bets and fights going through the night, but that also gave the fighters a better chance not to get themselves killed in the ring too. Liam had always told her the shorter matches let them go harder - if they knew they were only staring down a sprint, they could put their foot to the pedal, so to speak, and go from zero to 60. That also meant they were more likely to need less recovery time too. The less recovery time, the more fights they could be in, and the more money they could win.

This was all a finely-tuned machine.

And while most fighters needed the full five rounds, Happy had his opponent down in three. Pretty impressive, considering the last time the league had had a fighter that could lay someone out like that was… well, her brother. Judging by the way the crowd roared, and the sly grin crossing Viktor's face from where he sat in his box seat, Happy had just passed his audition with flying colors.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and after the announcer declared Happy the winner as the ref lifted his arm in victory, the next fighters were already lined up and ready to go. Jax clapped his arms around Happy's sweaty body, and then it was his turn to pull his white Samcro T-shirt over his head and swing his body underneath the ropes.

Jo let out a low whistle as Jax bounced up and down on his heels, stretching his neck from side to side… and Liv took in the sinewy, hard muscles in his chest and felt herself bite down on her bottom lip.

His black athletic shorts slung low on his hips, exposing a V of muscles that made her swallow hard. The other fighter was pounding his fists together, but he might as well have not even been there. As Jax and his opponent started circling each other, that tattoo on his back came into clear view. Happy had had one of those too, an exact match for the formidable Reaper on the back of their kuttes. But where Happy's back tattoo had been more intriguing to her than anything, if not a tiny bit scary given the rest of him, Liv felt a knot tighten in her stomach at the sight of it on Jax's muscled back.

She waited along with the rest of the crowd for someone to throw the first punch when Jax suddenly lunged forward, swinging his fist around to connect with his opponent's jaw. The other fighter's head jerked back violently, and Liv winced when he spat out blood on the mat at their feet.

It didn't take the other fighter long to retaliate and when he tried to swing, Jax easily dodged the blow and landed a quick one-two punch right into his jaw. Another round of cheers and jeers rang out from the crowd as the fighters continued to circle each other. She'd figured Jax had some brawn underneath that white T-shirt, but the way he moved around the ring… he had an athleticism she hadn't expected. And the sweat-sheened, rippling muscles in his arms and his back were really a sight to behold.

But it wasn't even just that.

It was like a switch flipped in him the second the whistle blew.

Where he'd been almost hesitant, blustering through some shyness and a show of overconfidence when they'd spoken yesterday, there was none of that to be found tonight. He was almost feral, throwing punches and moving around the ring like an animal that'd had its cage rattled one too many times. He absolutely knew what he was doing, and there was no hesitation now, no calculated movements. Jax seemed to be operating on equal parts instinct and skill, but there was a rage simmering underneath each juke and jab that made him practically lethal.

Between the energy he used to bounce around the ring, the intense power he used in every punch, and the fearlessness seeped into every movement, she couldn't look away.

That all looked familiar. And that familiarity made her heart ache.

And just like someone else she knew, Jax knocked his opponent to the mat in only two rounds.

Another loud cheer erupted from around the crowd and she couldn't stop herself from grinning when Jax turned back to his cheering section up in the box seats and flexed his arms in triumph. They yelled and cheered right back at him as he slid out from underneath the ropes, gave Happy a fist bump in victory, wiped himself with a towel, and took a long swig from a water bottle.

Liv's gaze flicked back up to those box seats and found Viktor nodding to himself with satisfaction. Looked like both of his new recruits had passed the test and then some.

That was also their cue to finish up their preparations for the afterparty. Now that those fights were done, with only one more left of the night, they were just about to get down to business once Jax and Happy were able to rejoin the group. Sure enough, within about ten minutes, the group inside the boxed seats started filing into the private party room, buzzing with the high of what they'd just witnessed in the ring. There were actually more Reaper kuttes than she'd expected, and now it was time for her and Jo to haul ass and do their jobs.

Viktor Putlova didn't roll out the red carpet like this for just anyone and he expected nothing less than perfection.

At first, everything that followed was a little bit of a blur. Most of those leather kuttes started with the food, and there were a few older men in suits that she didn't recognize that sat right down at the main table, as if they couldn't be bothered to get their own food and everyone else was here to cater to their needs. So, knowing her role all too well, Liv swooped in and greeted the three older men at the table.

"Good evening," she greeted them with a warm smile. "We're so happy to have you here. My name is Liv, and I'll be here all night to make sure you've got what you need."

One of the men eyed her carefully with his head tilted to the side. "And what is it that ya think we'll need tonight?"

Liv gritted her teeth, but that easy grin on her face didn't slip. She was a professional, goddammit, and this wasn't the first time some slimy, rich old guy had made her skin crawl. Tonight wasn't going to be any different, but at least she had a firm understanding of her job description - and Viktor did too - and she wasn't about to deviate from those job duties.

"I'm happy to bring you as much food and as many drinks as you'd like tonight."

"Ah," the man smirked as his eyes flicked up and down the length of her body before gesturing for her to lean in even closer so he could murmur in her ear in that heavy Irish accent, "And if I'd like more? Is that included in yer services tonight or will that cost me a little extra?"

She schooled her reaction, momentarily startled by the cheers that erupted through the room. The victorious fighters had clearly joined the rest of the party, and when Liv glanced up, she could see the top of Jax's buzzed, blonde head moving through the room. And then a clammy hand gripped her wrist to tug her just a hair closer.

Liv's heart just about leapt into her throat when she glanced down again to find that same old, creepy man with an even creepier smile staring up at her. And then she remembered herself.

"I'm just here to serve the food and drinks," she informed him with a tight smile. "If you're looking for anything more than that tonight, I'm sure Mr. Putlova can make separate arrangements for you elsewhere."

That seemed to mollify him, at least for now, and he let her wrist slip through his fingertips when she pulled her arm back.

"Fair enough," he shrugged, and then he tipped his chin toward the other side of the room, where all those leather-covered MC members were congregating to celebrate. "Why don't ya make sure those boys over there have plenty of food and drinks then?"

"Of course," Liv nodded to him, and stepped away as fast as her high heels could take her. God, what was it about old, sleazy men that made them think they were entitled to anything they wanted?

But still, she was grateful for the distraction and grateful to have something to do that was at least somewhat useful, considering Jo was already flitting around the room, making the rounds and chatting up a storm. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Jo had zeroed in on Happy, already plying him with all the food and alcohol she could carry in both hands.

So she got to work, sidestepping around a few of the Reaper kuttes as she made her way over to the bar. After a moment of indecision, she figured she might as well throw him a bone. He had told her he'd win, after all.

By the time she found Jax, he was standing in a cluster of leather and scruffy, bearded men who certainly looked worse for the wear. And he didn't really look much better himself - in fact, he seemed dead on his feet, exhausted and sore and… moody? That didn't really mesh with the win he'd just secured, not to mention the spot he'd no-doubtedly just solidified for himself in the league.

Jax's head turned casually in her direction, then back again to say something to the guy with the mohawk standing next to him, and then his gaze snapped back to her with his eyebrows lifted into his forehead. His eyes seemed to burn into her as she continued to walk towards them with his drink in her hand. Jax seemed to straighten a little when she finally got there and she realized she needed more than a moment to gather her bearings. So she pressed a smile onto her lips and held out the tumbler.

"Congratulations," she grinned, tipping her chin to the tumbler in her hand. "I'd say this occasion calls for a whiskey, don't you?"

Surprise flickered across his bruised and only slightly bloodied face, but then an easy lop-sided grin slid onto Jax's lips. That was genuine - and different. At least, different from the guy she'd seen hanging out in the lounge these last two days. When he reached out to take the tumbler from her, the light graze of his fingers over hers sent goosebumps down her arm.

"Thanks, Liv," he tossed back lightly. "I could use a stiff drink right about now."

For a moment, she almost completely forgot what she'd been about to say, but recovered smoothly, leaning in just a touch. It really didn't help that her heart restarted about a second after he matched her stance, tilting his head closer to her so he could hear whatever she was about to say. Better make it good.

"You're welcome. And hey, just so you know, I'm not really sure what I was seeing in that ring just now, but I do know that you're talented as shit."

His sky-blue eyes sparked, first with a flicker of surprise, and quickly replaced by some amusement. And maybe a little relief too?

"Hey," Jax smirked, spreading his bruised hands out, whiskey and all. "I'm a man of my word. And did I tell you I'd win, or did I tell you I'd win?"

"You did, in fact, tell me you'd win, and I was happy to see you didn't disappoint," Liv grinned back, in spite of herself, and in spite of whoever was probably watching this exchange right now. But if she had to be in this room, waiting on these men, she knew which one she preferred to spend her time with.

He shot her yet another smirk as he took a long swig from the whiskey in his tumbler, and she felt a rush of satisfaction when he squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply.

"Next time, you should bet on me," Jax shot back as another lop-sided grin slipped across his face. Even through the split lip and fresh black eye, he was still the best looking thing in this room.

Liv found herself grinning back at him, even though it was probably in her best interest to just keep as level a head as she could. "So there's gonna be a next time? Congratulations - that's a pretty big deal, you know."

"Oh, I do know."

"Good for you," she just lifted a shoulder. "And just so you know, I can't really do that - bet on you, I mean, seeing as how I'm technically a casino employee. We're not allowed to gamble here."

"Uh huh. I guess that's fair."

"Sure," she found herself grinning again. This was weird - she'd put on this friendly, welcoming act with casino patrons before because she had to, but the longer she stood here talking to him like this, the more this felt less and less like an act.

And now that she had a better view of the leather on his chest, that vice president patch stared back at her. Huh. That was interesting - he didn't really look old enough to have that kind of status in his club, but that also explained why he was in this room right now.

"But," Liv went on, spurred on by the way he dipped his head lower to hear her. "If I could bet, I'd put my money on you and your tattooed buddy over there," she tipped her chin to where Happy and Jo were still talking on the opposite side of the room.

"Smart move," Jax laughed, shaking his head.

Now, Liv tilted her head to the side as she studied the other newest league member and the stoic expression on his face as he listened to Jo speak animatedly in his ear. "Is that his real name, by the way?"

Jax's eyes followed her gaze before landing right on his fellow club member, and he huffed out a laugh. "Nah. Happy is his road name - sometimes, the guys take a nickname, sometimes they don't. I guess Hap got his name 'cuz he's so…"

"Not happy?" Liv offered helpfully.

"Exactly."

"So is Jax your real name or your road name?"

He dipped his head her way again, inching just a hair closer, and before she could stop herself, her senses just breathed him in - all of it, the musk from his cologne, the sweat from the fight, a little bit of gasoline and just a hint of grease too.

"My real name," he explained with a smile. "It's actually Jackson, but everybody's always just called me Jax. The only one who really calls me that is my mom, and when she does, it's usually 'cuz I'm in trouble."

"Hmm, I see. You strike me as the kinda guy who gets into a little bit of trouble, in addition to being a whiskey guy, of course."

He lifted a hand, holding his thumb and index finger about an inch apart. "Only a little bit."

Liv smiled back at him, momentarily caught off-guard by how easy this was. It was almost like she was talking to a completely different person than she had in the lounge yesterday - this version of Jackson Teller was relaxed, a little tired and soft-spoken, gracious and kind, just cocky enough to earn the kutte on his back, and a little bit of a casual flirt too. This version of him almost felt like the real one, or at least, who he really was underneath all that swagger, all that brawn, and all that ferocity she saw in the ring.

So maybe there were three different versions of him. The genuine one standing in front of her. The lethal animal she'd seen in the ring. And the fumbling, overly cocky and a little bit douchey version she'd met yesterday in the lounge. She had a feeling only one of those versions was an act though.

"Hey," Jax shifted a tiny bit closer, but she held her ground. "Seeing as how I'm gonna be spendin' more of my weekends here in Reno, I feel like I gotta apologize," he paused there as his gaze flicked around the room, taking quick stock of the bustle around them, "I think I… well, I think I probably came across as a real asshole yesterday, didn't I?"

She tilted her head to the side playfully. "Was there an apology in there somewhere? 'Cuz I'm not sure I heard it."

Jax huffed out a laugh before running a ringed hand over his buzzed hair. There was that nervousness again - that shy anxiety that was just as endearing as it was confusing.

"A'ight," he flashed her a grin. "I'll try that again. We're gonna be seein' each other around this place more often, and I don't want you to think I'm some kinda arrogant jerk who can walk around here and get whatever he wants. That's not what I think, and that's not what I'm gonna do when I'm here. If I gave you that impression, I'm sorry."

Just as her lips parted to respond, another guy in a Reaper kutte clapped Jax on the shoulder and promptly yanked him toward that big table in the middle of the room. It was clearly time to get down to business, and Jax shot her an apologetic grin from over his shoulder as he fell into step with the stocky guy with all that wiry hair.

At the very least, that gave her a second to meet up with Jo behind the bar, where she was busying herself with prepping another round of drinks, her fire engine red hair falling in her face. The men congregated at the table, corralled by Viktor, naturally, and she didn't miss the way that old Irishman who'd creepily propositioned her earlier watched her movements behind the bar.

"Ugh," Liv muttered under her breath, biting back a cringe.

"Did I miss something, or are you just happy to see me?" Jo retorted with a sly grin as she filled up her tray. "You sure looked like you were havin' a good time chattin' with Mr. Wonderful over there."

"Uh, speak for yourself, Joanna," Liv cocked an eyebrow at her. "I can't remember the last time I saw you talking to a boy."

Jo waggled her eyebrows suggestively, ducking down just enough to hide that from view of the rest of the room. "That's no boy, Livie. He's all man, and I quite enjoyed myself, thank you very much. And besides, I could say the same thing about you, missy."

Given their current circumstances, Liv opted to ignore that for now. It wasn't like she was going to stand here, with their present company within earshot, and talk about boys - neither of them had that luxury anyway. Well, maybe Jo had that luxury more than she did, but that didn't mean this was the appropriate place for this kind of conversation.

So, she shot Jo a wary glance as she stepped around the bar again with a tray full of beers and another tumbler of whiskey for Jax, and headed for that main table where discussions about something were well under way. But she wasn't here to eavesdrop, despite the fact that she did overhear something about transportation routes and handoffs - which could only mean they were most likely discussing the transportation and handoff of something illegal, especially since Viktor was involved.

Just when she set a beer in front of a rough-looking man with short grey hair and a president patch on his leather-covered chest, the man shot her an exasperated glance as he waved her away, narrowly missing the back of her hand with his cigar. She got her hand out of the way just in time, but the hot ash had been this close to her skin.

What a prick.

Her eyes flicked back to him in annoyance, and Viktor must've seen this whole exchange because he interrupted one of those disgusting Irishmen, gesturing toward Liv with a flourish.

"Thank you, Liv," Viktor called out to her from the other side of the table.

Well, great. Now all the attention was right on her. Awesome.

Liv stood a little straighter now as she hoisted her tray, which was still pretty full, on her left shoulder and dared a glance out at the rest of the table. Viktor was grinning at her with that same kind, fatherly demeanor he always seemed to have around her. Val was seated to his right, with a few other Putlova associates and henchmen to the left, and looked just as menacing as ever.

The rest of the group was somewhat spread out, with the Irishmen all seated together like a trio of jerks. Jax had somehow ended up on the more Russian-heavy side, but maybe that was by design. From his vantage point, he could appear as though he was friendly to both sides but could still easily, and silently, communicate with his club members from across the table.

She could feel his eyes on her now. Hell, everyone's eyes were on her right now. Even though she certainly hadn't meant to interrupt, that's exactly what had just happened.

"Careful there, Clay," Viktor called out to that man who'd almost set her hand on fire. "Her hands are just as valuable to me as your boy's over there."

Viktor gestured with his head toward Jax, who was leaning both elbows on the table now, watching this exchange with his sky-blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly at his club president.

Clay's hands immediately shot up in the air, and in the process, sent that cigar in between his fingers up in the air again too. And once again, she managed to get out of the way just in time.

"Whoops. Sorry, sweetheart," he winced playfully before laughing heartily, like this whole thing was funny to him. Like nearly burning her hand off was funny.

She was just the help. Of course that was funny.

Viktor pressed a tight smile on his face, as though he wasn't amused by this anymore than she was, and gestured to her again. "This is Olivia Kelly - she's one of the finest musicians in the city. You'll never hear a better pianist than her. I suggest you check out the show in our Whiskey Barrel lounge if you get the chance before you leave, if you haven't already."

Clay flashed Viktor a grin before clamping his teeth around his cigar again. "I'll make sure to do that."

"You won't be disappointed," Viktor mused, tilting his head to the side as he spoke. "And, I know this doesn't need to be said, but I'll say it anyway. Our two lovely hostesses here are as trustworthy as any man sitting at this table, which is exactly why they're serving us tonight. There's no need to worry about discretion. Now, while we have Liv here, is there anything anyone needs before we continue?"

Her gaze flicked around the table, waiting for one of these men to say something. When her eyes landed on Jax, she could practically see the mental gymnastics going on in his head as he studied her carefully, trying to figure out just what her relationship to the Putlovas really was. Sometimes, she didn't really know what it was herself.

And then that slimy old Irish guy opened his mouth again.

"Anything else on the menu tonight besides finger food and steak?"

Then he just dropped that on the table, lifting an eyebrow at her expectantly as if she was supposed to do something about it and respond any differently than she had before. No tip in the world was worth that.

Thankfully, Viktor once again swooped in to save her from his special guests. Yeah, they were special alright.

"Is there something else you need that we don't have right now, Galen?"

Now, that creep named Galen stared her down for a moment, sizing her up, but she didn't lower her eyes. She might be an indentured servant, but she wasn't about to allow herself to be reduced to this. Her pride was still very well intact, and Viktor knew that better than anyone. Finally, Galen just lifted a shoulder and waved a hand in the air, signaling that she could move along.

"Nah," he smirked at Viktor. "But I'm told those arrangements could be made elsewhere."

Viktor didn't miss a beat and nodded immediately. "Of course. I'm happy to accommodate anything you need."

That seemed to placate the slimeball for now, so she made quick work of delivering the rest of the drinks to the table so she could get out the line of fire for the time being. When she got to Jax, he shifted in his chair to make some room for her to set the drinks down, and his lips curved up when he saw that she'd brought him another whiskey. He nodded to her, that same soft smile playing on his lips, but it dropped just as quickly when she moved on to finish her task. Looked like they both had to get back to work.

It was kinda amazing how far a little polite humility went. Jax was literally the only one at that table who hadn't looked at her like she was something they wanted to chew on or immediately dismissed her once they'd gotten what they wanted from her. And so far, none of those jerks had tipped. Maybe they were saving that for the end of the night, but you never really could tell with a group like this.

Liv made a point to stay under the radar for the rest of the meeting, only going over to the table when someone waved either her or Jo over, and that was it. Those guys didn't need constant catering, at least as far as she was concerned, and the rest of their meeting seemed to go off without a hitch. No one seemed stressed or upset when they started to leave the table, and most of them actually seemed like they were in a pretty good mood by the time they stood up.

And that was her cue.

"Looks like we're up again," she leaned into murmur in her friend's ear.

Jo just shrugged, but not before appraising her with those all-knowing and all-seeing eyes, and mouthing, You okay?

Liv nodded as she loaded up her drink tray again with beer bottles and headed back out onto the main area of the party room, where all the action was happening. This night could be over anytime now. Her feet hurt, her head was pounding, and her face was sore from having to smile so much. It was exhausting - having to act so friendly and gracious all the time when all she wanted to do was dump a drink over someone's head.

She wasn't stupid though. And she wouldn't dare.

Once her tray was empty, she busied herself with going table to table to pick up empties. It was better than standing there with nothing to do.

"Hey," a familiar voice whispered from her left.

She whipped around to find Jax leaning both elbows on a cocktail table a few feet away. He flashed her a grin and then gestured with his head for her to come a little closer. It was hard not to look too happy, or too grateful, and the smile on her face was the first genuine one she'd felt in a good hour.

When she rested her tray on the table next to her, Jax bit down on his bottom lip, shifting his weight so he could jut out a tattooed forearm.

"Maybe we can try this again," he smiled, tipping his chin to his outstretched hand. "Jax Teller. Nice to meet ya."

She tilted her head to the side playfully as she slid her hand into his. "Liv Kelly. Nice to meet you too. Again."

"Right," he huffed out a laugh and after she slipped her hand out of his much rougher one, he shoved both hands in his pockets. "I'm not gonna lie, our social skills are a little rusty, but that's no excuse for my club president almost takin' your hand off and laughin' about it like that. Or our friends from Ireland makin' assumptions they shouldn't have. But since they're not gonna apologize to you, I will - so, I'm sorry."

Liv just batted a hand. There was no point in making a bigger deal out of it than necessary. She didn't like it, but it was what it was. At this point, she'd just be happy if all she had to do was bus tables for the rest of the night, however long that lasted.

"Water under the bridge, Jax. Are you having a good night though? It looks like everything's going well, for the most part."

Jax's gaze flicked around the room as he nodded to her. "Yeah, for the most part. Everything kinda went off without a hitch, which is weird, considering there's always some sorta catch with these things. But what can you do?"

He took a moment to take a drink of whiskey, and when his eyes dropped to the inside of her left forearm, she realized he was studying the tattoo he'd found there. Her right hand flew out to cover it on reflex - there was nothing in that tattoo she was ashamed of, but this also didn't feel like the right time or place to explain it either.

And then, almost as if he sensed her hesitation, he flipped the script on her completely.

"So Liv Kelly, huh?" he leaned an elbow on the table with an amused grin playing on his lips. "Any relation to Liam Kelly?"

Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised he'd made that connection. Her last name wasn't exactly uncommon, but Liam's reputation around here also preceded just about everything else too.

"Sure," Liv grinned, once again spurred on by the way he dipped his head lower to hear what she was saying. "He's my brother."

"No shit," Jax's eyebrows flew into his forehead, and he looked a little mystified too as he leaned both elbows on the table now. "Wow, your brother is… shit, he's one of the best fighters I've ever seen. We got an invite to a couple of these things a few years ago and I've never seen anything like it."

"That's interesting," she mused with a laugh. "Because I was actually gonna tell you earlier that you remind me a lot of him - in the ring, I mean."

Well, now that she really thought about it, and now that she was really talking to him, he reminded her of Liam in some other ways too.

His eyes widened and the shit-eating grin that spread across his face had her laughing at him before he said another word. "Wow. That's…" Jax shook his head, almost as if he didn't quite believe her, "that's probably the best compliment I could ever get, especially coming from his sister. Thanks, Liv."

"Hey, I just call it like I see it."

That lop-sided grin slid across his face again, but then it slipped away. "And he's…"

Jax trailed off there, like he wasn't sure how much he should say, or if he should even continue at all, but she figured she might as well put him out of his misery.

"It's alright," she smiled wistfully. "You can say it. I don't mind talking about it."

And the thing was - she usually did mind talking about it. And she usually didn't need to anyway because most people in the casino knew why Liam wasn't fighting anymore, or were at least polite enough not to ask about any rumors they'd heard. But she didn't mind it now, and she didn't mind it with him either.

Jax shot her a smile, but the sad understanding in his eyes told a different story. "How long has he been in for now?"

"Two years. We're hoping he can get out in about three more."

He nodded tightly, leaning in again with his forehead knitted into a frown. "Where's he at? State?"

"Yeah," she told him. "Nevada State. It's only about a half hour away from here, so that's convenient. At least for me."

His lips lifted into a light smile now. "Good. I'm guessin' you visit him as much as you can?"

"Yeah. I try to get down there every Sunday. He calls most days too."

Jax nodded again with that sympathetic smile written across his face. So she waited for it, and waited a little longer - the inevitable question about what, exactly, her brother did to earn five years in prison - but what he said next nearly startled her right out of her stilettos.

"Yeah, I get that," he smiled a little pensively. "I just got out a month ago."

He huffed out a laugh when he got a good look at her face - obviously, she hadn't been able to hide the jolt that gave her. But now that she knew, some things about him clicked into place. His nervousness and the way he'd fumbled that first time they spoke. The way he'd unleashed in the ring. The way he seemed to withdraw into himself when he thought no one was looking. All that made a little bit more sense now.

"How, um," she cleared her throat to catch herself. "How long were you in for?"

"Fourteen months. It was supposed to be five to seven, but we cut a deal with the feds."

And when he said we, his eyes drifted out to the small crowd hovering around the room before settling on some of his club members. Then he leaned in conspiratorially, like he was about to share a secret, "In case you're wonderin', and I'm sure you are, we got busted for somethin' a little bit like this."

She couldn't decide if he was trying to stress that he hadn't done time in prison for anything violent - which was probably fair, considering what she'd just seen him do in the ring - or if he was knocking just about everybody in this room, himself included. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

"And here you are," Liv smiled softly, gesturing with her head toward that big table in the middle of the room. "Doing it all again, huh?"

But when that earnest grin on his face slipped and his eyes drifted around the room again with a little too much hopelessness that she didn't quite understand, she jumped to shift gears.

"Hey, I didn't mean -"

"Nah," he just lifted a shoulder with an easy grin. "No worries. You're right, by the way. No reason you can't call it like you see it," and as his gaze shifted around the room, he turned back to her just as quickly. "Hey, just so you know, your boss is lookin' over here right now. I don't wanna get you in any trouble or anything tonight if you're not supposed to be talkin' to me like this."

Her head turned in that direction, quickly finding that Viktor was, in fact, watching this interaction a little too carefully. Val stood off to the right of his father, appraising her with just as much interest as Viktor.

"Well, to be fair," she just shrugged. "What's the point of having hostesses here right now if we're not supposed to talk to anybody?"

"That is true," he laughed as some of his previous anxiety about their current positions flew away. "Hey, speaking of that, how'd you end up with this gig tonight anyway?"

Liv blew out a heavy sigh, glancing over her shoulder again to see that Viktor's attention had shifted elsewhere. "When your boss asks you to do something, you do it."

"Fair enough," he nodded with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Some cat-calling and cheering erupted from the other side of the room, and he pushed out a rough breath, clenching his swollen knuckles underneath the table. "You know, I think I'm gonna head up to my room and crash. I'm fuckin' tired, and I just wanna sleep for about a week."

There was a moment - just one moment - where a rush of disappointment warmed her chest, and he must've seen it too, because Jax immediately held up a hand in a bit of a panic.

"I don't really need to be part of this anymore now that the meeting's done," he explained, "and I don't wanna cause any problems for you either. Besides, I'll see ya next weekend, right?" Jax flashed her a quick grin now. "And all these idiots won't be around then either."

There was a promise somewhere in between what he'd just said, and she'd be lying if she said that didn't give her a little bit of a thrill. It was a cheap thrill, too, because it wasn't like she was in a position to be just about anything to him. But she found herself looking forward to next weekend, and it was rare for her to look forward to anything these days.

Jax downed the rest of his whiskey, and then dug into his back pocket as he tipped his chin to her, "You get to keep all your tips tonight, right?"

Her lips parted to respond, but whatever she was about to say died in her throat when he started flipping a 50 out of the folded bills in his hand.

"No, that's too -"

"Hey," Jax cut in with a shrug. "Anybody else tip you out yet?"

When she didn't respond, he just nodded, probably more to himself than anything, and then he leaned in again to murmur, "That's what I figured. Honestly, I'd be surprised if any of these guys remember to give you anything by the end of the night 'cuz we're all assholes. And, on second thought," he flipped another 50 out of the folded up bills in his hand and passed them both to her. "You had to put up with some stupid shit tonight and that wasn't really fair to you. Just take it, okay?"

And as she wavered, he just slipped a couple of 20s out from his stash and put them right in her hand too.

"No worries, Liv. I appreciated the company tonight, you know?"

The second those words left his lips, his blue eyes widened and he held his hands up as he barked out a laugh.

"Wow," she laughed, shaking her head even though it still didn't really feel right taking any money from him.

She'd appreciated his company tonight too. And she just didn't know how to tell him that the money he'd just given her, that was also most likely straight out of his winnings from tonight, would just go right back into Viktor's pocket tomorrow morning.

And that was the thing - she really couldn't tell him anyway, even if she wanted to.

"I told ya my social skills were a little rusty and I wasn't kiddin'," he grinned, but the relief on his face had her smiling back at him. "I promise I didn't mean it the way it sounded. But I did like talkin' to you and I do appreciate that you put up with my lame ass. And like I said," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he spoke, "those assholes aren't gonna be good for shit with the way this night is going, so I gotta pick up their slack."

Well, there wasn't much she could argue with that. And it looked like he wasn't going to take no for an answer when it came to the money he'd given her. At this point, it was probably easier to just take it, only for tonight, and not draw any more attention to herself.

"Alright," Liv laughed and tipped her chin to the cash he'd just stuffed in her hand. "But let's be clear on one thing - if you're gonna be hanging out in the casino on the weekends, you can't make this a habit, okay? Don't make it weird."

That, and she also didn't want to see any more of his winnings from these fights lining Viktor's pockets.

His lop-sided grin worked its way around his jaw again and he rubbed the back of his neck like he just didn't quite know what to do with himself.

"A'ight. If you say so," and then he clapped the table with both hands. "I'm gonna go hit the sack and try to sleep this night off. If I don't catch ya around tomorrow, I'll see ya next weekend, alright?"

"Alright," Liv smiled back when he flashed her another grin with a wave. "I guess you know where I'll be."

That lop-sided grin still hadn't left his face when he tapped two fingers to his forehead in a mock-salute and headed for the exit. Her eyes followed him as he weaved in and out around the clusters of people in the room, clapping a few of them on the shoulder, until he disappeared.

Liv didn't really know what to make of all this. She was working tonight, but when she'd been talking to him, it hadn't really felt like work. It felt a little like how she felt around Jo, when things were easier, when she didn't have anyone watching her, when there was no pressure to perform, no pressure to do just about anything.

She had a feeling she was right about Jax - she'd met three different versions of him over these last two days, and she had a feeling she knew which version was going to show up next weekend. And the longer she stood in this room full of hairy, drunk bikers and slimy old Irishmen, the more she found herself wishing he would come back.

---

A/N - I know this was a lot of set-up, but this chapter really sets the stage for the upcoming weekends Jax is going to be spending in Reno, as well as how he's going to spend his time there. I know losing Opie in this story was hard (I really, really hated having to kill him in this one because I love him so much - Wendy wasn't nearly as hard to kill off, lol), but all of that was really to isolate Jax in Charming as much as possible and without the things that might make him feel more obligated to stick around, Reno is just that much more appealing to him.

Like I mentioned in the first chapter, all the songs are in the style of Postmodern Jukebox. I wish I could link the songs directly to the YouTube videos so you can listen to them while you read, but I can't! I do have a Spotify playlist that I've posted on Tumblr (my handle is at lovebarefootblonde) or you can just find me right on Spotify under the username barefootblonde. I've also been posting teasers on Tumblr and taking questions, so feel free to pop over there and check everything out!

I've really, really been enjoying this different side of Jax, especially him as a gentleman and being respectful toward Liv. He's interested in getting to know her better and spending more time with her - and a lot of that has to do with the fact that he's not really in a position to be in a committed relationship right now, so being friends is going to be just fine with him for now. Liv is in the same boat, and her entanglement with the Russian bratva will become more clear in the coming chapters too.

Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and Jax and Liv's introduction ;)