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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death.

CHAPTER 73: MEMORY LANE

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Sydney woke up the next morning to the feeling of Tig stroking the long braids that were still in her hair from the day before. She sighed in content as a smile came to her face after a peaceful sleep, her blissfully foggy brain letting her forget all about what had transpired the day before until she tried to open her eyes - wincing at the soreness as everything came back to her.

"I'm gonna kill him." Tig whispered as she squirmed against his chest in discomfort.

"No you're not." She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around him, grateful that he was still laying next to her - something that she wasn't sure she would experience again after last night. She kept her eyes closed as she pressed her lips to his bare chest - another painful action that reminded her just how much damage the asshole had done to her face.

"Did you sleep?" She asked as she stroked her hand down the tense muscles in his back.

"Enough." He lied. He had barely slept at all after abandoning his usual coping mechanism of hard liquor that has always served as a sedative to knock him out during a stressful time. Instead he had been up most of the night plotting against the long list of people that had dared to wrong him and his club in the past few days.

Sydney frowned, taking a deep breath as she slowly lifted her eyes open and tilted her head back where she looked up at him - forcing herself not to recoil when she saw the pain on his face as he gazed upon what she was sure was an awful sight.

"Is it bad?" She lowered her eyes shamefully.

"Does it hurt?" Tig tried to keep his voice level as his anger continued to grow as her scuffed up face came into full view - his memories of the damage no longer being the only thing that he had to reflect on now that the harsh reality was right in front of him.

"You didn't answer my question." She smirked slightly, trying to keep the mood light.

"You didn't answer mine." He countered, his hardened expression staying firmly in place.

"So it is bad…" She surmised, shrinking further in his arms.

"No." He shook his head, bringing his hand up to her face gently so that she couldn't look away. It wasn't a lie - even black and blue she was still the sexiest woman that he had ever laid eyes on, but seeing any marks from another man on his old lady would always be bad enough for Tig. "But I can tell it hurts." He brushed his thumb over the cut on her lip as he examined the dark bruising under her eyes, feeling the tense muscles in her body as well. "Do you need some?" He asked quietly.

"They're gone." She shook her head bitterly as the sore subject surfaced once again.

"I know." He told her gently. "Do you need some?" He asked again, looking deep into her blood-pooled eyes, knowing that between her leg and her face, the answer had to be yes.

"Not if it's going to make you uncomfortable." She whispered as she fiddled with the chain around his neck, running her thumb over the gold heart - searching for the much needed strength that it used to give her.

"Right now, seeing you be more comfortable might be the only thing that would help me not be so uncomfortable." He nodded sincerely, pulling her tightly into his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead.

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Wendy felt her heart pounding with anxiety as the yellow taxi pulled up in front of Jax's house - her old house, the only house that she had to go to. She took a deep breath, realizing that she couldn't stall any longer as the driver popped the trunk and rounded the car where he fished out her small suitcase. She closed her eyes and exhaled as cleansing of a breath as she could - something that she had learned to do in rehab during stressful situations - before reaching for the door handle and stepping out onto the pavement.

"Thanks, man." She handed the dark-haired man a crumpled twenty-dollar bill, grabbing her suitcase before she began slowly making her way up the driveway where she didn't see Jax's bike or Gemma's car - the only vehicle she saw was a big white painter's truck. She shrugged, deciding that the less Tellers that were present for her homecoming, the better - walking up to the front door where she fished out her golden key and tried the lock.

"Shit." She cursed when the key didn't fit. "Of course." She chuckled humorlessly, shaking her head - of course they'd had the locks changed. She sighed, stuffing the key back into her bag and walking back around the side of the house - hoping that maybe they hadn't thought to change the lock on the backdoor too.

"We've just finished ma'am." She jumped when she heard a voice next to her, looking around in search of the source where she saw a young hispanic man looking at her through the kitchen window, holding up a bucket of paint. "Oh." She breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, thanks." She gave a friendly smile, rounding the house to the back where she entered through the open door and was instantly hit by the smell of fresh paint.

She walked through the small house slowly, as if she was walking through an art museum - taking in the foreign space that she used to call home. It had been completely redone since she'd lived there just a fews ago, since she'd almost killed her son just a few short weeks ago, since she'd last shot up just a few short weeks ago… No. She shook the thought away. A few short weeks of sobriety was more than enough - she couldn't throw that kind of progress away like she'd done in the past… Not now that she had something to be clean for.

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Gemma sat at her desk sipping on a raspberry smoothie - the breakfast that she'd thought Sydney would find the most comfortable to eat - when she heard a knock at the door. "Gemma?" She heard a familiar voice, turning her head to see the one and only Mary Winston standing before her.

"Mary." She blinked in surprise. "Jesus Christ… What are you doing here?" She crinkled her brows incredulously, she hadn't seen the blonde woman in almost fifteen years - and she hadn't expected that she would ever see her again.

"I was hoping that you could tell me." Mary crossed the threshold, her eyes drawn to the battered young girl sitting at the desk to her right, ripping them away quickly. This place was just as toxic as she remembered… "I got a call from the feds asking me to pick up my grandkids from the Department of Justice facility in Stockton." She spit out bitterly.

Sydney's head snapped up from her work as soon as she heard the words leaving the older woman's mouth, ignoring the immediate throbbing she felt behind her eyes as she realized who this was, and what her visit meant…

Gemma eyed Sydney wearily across the room, looking back to the former old lady as Jax pulled onto the compound in the nick of time. "Let's find out." She nodded out the door, giving Sydney a stern look that told her to stay put. She knew more than enough about what Clay thought was going on with Opie, but she couldn't let her son's best friend be taken from him over a possible misunderstanding - and she definitely couldn't let her son's best friend be taken from him over a possible misunderstanding that had been influenced by outside sources…

Jax ripped his sunglasses as Gemma came shuffling out the door with Mary in her wake. "What's Opie's mom doing here?" He scowled, surprised to see the woman that he'd thought had left the MC behind for good over a decade ago.

"She's picking up her grandkids from the Department of Justice facility." Gemma whispered worriedly.

"Oh my god…" Jax's head hung as more and more incriminating evidence against Opie surfaced, but he quickly shoved that down when the light-haired approached. "Hey, Mary." He gave a friendly nod.

"What the hell did my kid do this time?" She snipped.

"Nice to see you too." He chortled. She was just as he remembered.

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Tig dragged his feet over the pavement as he made his way across the garage, the weight of his sorrows after a nearly sleepless night taking its toll on his aging body. He sighed as he slumped over his toolbox, digging through the mess of wrenches as he looked for the right size, perking up when he heard wolf-whistling behind him.

"Golly, little girl." Dog hollered at Sydney as she emerged from the office door, a bashful smile coming to her face. "I'd love to be the other guy." He winked.

"I bet you would." She smirked, thankful for the older mechanic who was clearly trying to make her feel better about altered appearance.

"Hey, Princess." Tig smiled, feeling his worries rolling off of the forefront of his mind as she approached - her mere presence instantly calming him. "They working?" He asked as wrapped his arm around her shoulder and brought her into a gentle hug, kissing her on the top of the head.

"Not fast enough." She scoffed, trying not to focus on the multiple areas still causing her pain as she waited for the pills to kick in.

"You need some more?" He looked into her eyes with concern.

Sydney felt her heart skip a little when he suggested it, but she knew better. "Nah baby, I'm okay." She brushed it off nonchalantly as she pulled her eyes away - she knew that he was already going out of his comfort zone to help her, she didn't want to push it.

"Hey." He leaned down, following her averting gaze. "What I told you was the truth." He spoke softly. "The pills don't bother me if I know what they're for… If they're helping you." He nodded sincerely.

Sydney blinked a few times as she forced herself to accept that what he was saying was the truth; that this wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass later. "Maybe later." She brushed it off, returning to the real reason she had paid a visit to the garage. "We need to talk to Clay... Now." She widened her eyes.

"He's still gotta talk to Rosen." Tig's brows wrinkled in confusion.

"No he doesn't…" Sydney slowly turned her head, nodding out the garage where Tig saw exactly what it was that had her so concerned.

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Jax followed Gemma back into the office after Mary had made her bitter exit, feeling his heart sink as he looked over to see Sydney's desk empty. He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling sharply as he ran his hands over his face in frustration. This little gash just couldn't help herself… Just then, she emerged from the garage with Tig in tow - her strides of determination carrying her right past the flustered VP.

"Chapel." She told him coldly as she walked out onto the compound, keeping her gaze fixed on the door to the clubhouse.

Jax chewed the inside of his lip, looking frustratedly at his mother before directing his glare at Tig. "If you don't control your bitch, someone's gonna get hurt." He seethed.

"You wanna say that again?" Tig squinted as he walked up on the cocky younger man who dared to insult his old lady. "Huh?" He pushed him. "A little louder this time."

"Hey!" Gemma hollered before a brawl could take place in her office - between her son and one of her best friends, nonetheless.

Tig glanced at Gemma apologetically, looking back at her son whom he wished he could respect even half as much as he respected her. "I should tell you to do the same thing." His eyes flicked up and down over the VP as his hardened expression stayed cemented in place, turning out the door where his angry strides carried him across the lot quickly as he reached the clubhouse, bursting through the front door to see that the bar was empty except for Sydney who had already taken a seat at the table, and Half-Sack who had jumped when he'd come in.

"You." Half-Sack jumped again when Tig addressed him directly this time, feeling his feet carrying him backwards as the man who owed him a beating approached hastily. He squeezed his eyes shut. This was it… "You don't leave this room." He ordered the terrified man before stomping to his dorm to call Clay, trusting that Jax wouldn't try anything if the prospect was close by and he was just down the hall.

"Hey." Sydney heard the tentative voice behind her as she sat in her chair at the table with her back to the door, knowing exactly who it was.

"Not now, Kip." She told him without turning around as she ashed her cigarette into the golden tray, her mind racing with what she wished were possible solutions, but was only worry - worry that if Opie really had turned, there was no way out of this.

"I uh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He crept into the chapel. "I didn't get to see you yesterday after everything..."

Sydney smiled softly at the caring nature of her friend. "I guess that I should be the one seeing if you are okay." She raised a brow as she turned around slowly.

"He hasn't done anything yet…" Half-Sack sighed as he looked out the door and down the hall where Tig had disappeared.

"I told him not to." Sydney looked away, stamping out her cigarette as the unfortunate memory of the not-so-distant past resurfaced.

"Syd…" He winced wearily as he took a seat beside her. "I deserve it… I crossed a line-" He didn't want her or her relationship to suffer because of his poor judgment.

"No one deserves to be punished for trying to help somebody the way that you helped me." She cut him off. "I'm the one who messed up."

"Yeah but… You're an old lady, I'm a prospect…

Sydney cringed harshly as the words left his mouth, willing herself to brush them off with the multitude of more pressing matters that took priority over her unintentionally bruised ego.

"Shit." He cursed once he realized how misogynistic he had sounded, and in front of Sydney nonetheless. "I'm sorry… I-I didn't mean it like that. I just meant like, he would never punish you the way that he would punish me… Cause you know, prospects are on like… Probation, you know?" He stumbled over his words as he tried to patch up any damage that his careless comment could have caused.

Sydney nodded slowly, genuinely believing his apology to be the truth - but she didn't have the energy to spare to form a verbal response.

"So… Things are okay then? With you and him?" He tried to steer the conversation away from her insecurities - a valuable skill that he had learned being around women as of late.

"Seems to be…" She shrugged hopefully.

"Good." He nodded, looking down at the silver charm that hung off of the chain around his neck.

"You talk to her at all?" Sydney pulled out an extra cigarette when she saw him examining the sentiment that Cherry had given him, reaching over and placing it into his mouth before lighting the end.

"Nah." He exhaled a cloud of smoke, looking back down sadly. "It's easier that way…"

"Yeah…" Sydney nodded slowly. "I get that." She knew all about starting fresh, but it didn't change the pang that she felt in her heart to see one of her best friends so heartbroken, and over something so tragic… Something that she never would've been able to understand the pain of before she met Tig…

"Hey." She grabbed his hand, bringing his eyes back up to hers. "I never thanked you for yesterday… What you did with the cop." She blinked respectfully. "Hell… I never thanked you for any of it." She scoffed. "Putting your ass on the line for me… Again." She smiled lightly before the guilt crept back in. "I never should've asked that of you." She shook her head as her eyes lowered now. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." Half-Sack lifted her chin as he shook his head. "Don't be." There was no way that he was going to let her feel sorry for letting him feel like he had a purpose here. "Even if it gets me kicked out… It felt right." He squeezed her hand.

"It wouldn't feel right if you had to leave because of me." She whispered, giving him a sad smile.

"You told me something..." He looked down as he pulled his hand away and folded them on the table. "When you got here… You told me not to let the club turn me into an asshole…" He looked back at her. "I'll take whatever not becoming an asshole earns me."

"You're too good for this place, Kippy." Sydney shook her head back and forth slowly, a genuine smile on her face this time.

"Out." The light-haired pair whipped their heads around to see Jax standing in the doorway, pointing behind him and nodding to Half-Sack.

"Uh-" Half-Sack stuttered. "Tig said I have to-"

"I don't give a shit what Tig said, get out." Jax shook his head.

"He told you to stay in the bar." Sydney nodded, letting him know that he didn't have to worry that he was disobeying the Sergeant again.

Jax waited with his arms crossed, watching the prospect as he backed away wearily, slowly closing the door behind him - springing into action the second that the latch caught. "Sydney. You need to think about thi-"

"I don't need to think about anything!" Sydney threw her chair back and stomped up to him, eager for the excuse to take out some of her anger. "What you need to think about is what your little bitch boy is going to do to all of us. That includes you Jax. You gotta let go of that soft little spot that you have for him and prepare yourself for a truth that you might not like." She spit out the bitter words

"He'd never sell out the club." Jax chewed his lip, averting his eyes from her penetrating gaze.

"And what if he did?" She countered.

He blinked for a few seconds before he finally found the courage to speak the words that he never wanted to speak - but he knew it was the only way to keep his best friend safe. "Then I'll kill him myself." He gulped.

"You better." She nodded. "Cause I aint going to jail for no rat."

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There is SO much foreshadowing in this chapter and I just wanna give everything away😩🙊