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This chapter takes place in Episode 3 of Season 1.
Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Rachel stood over the sink brushing her teeth when David entered the bathroom. Through the mirror, she could see that he was dressed in uniform.
"You know Elliot Oswald's little girl?" he asked as he leaned against the door frame.
"Mhmm," she answered before spitting into the sink.
"She was raped last night at Fun Town."
"Oh my god," she covered her mouth in shock. "Do they know who did it?"
"No," he shook his head. "I'm gonna try to find something out today."
"Okay, babe," Rachel walked towards him and pressed her lips against his. "I hope you find that sick freak."
She watched as he disappeared from the room and she patiently waited to here the slamming of their front door.
Once she was certain that he was gone, she rushed toward her purse and dug around until she found what she had been looking for.
With the two boxes in hand, Rachel rushed back to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
She leaned up against the door as she looked at the pregnancy tests resting in her hand.
Please God, she thought to herself, let it be real this time.
Rachel was shifting through files in her office when she heard a knock on her door.
"Yeah?" She asked without looking up.
"A Jackson Teller is here to see you," The stubby, older woman stated as she pushed up her glasses.
"Thanks, Patty," the young brunette stated as she finally closed the file and looked up. "Tell him he can come in."
Once Patty left, Rachel quickly organized her desk and turned the files over so that no names were showing.
"Nice office," Jax walked in—closing the door behind him.
"Thanks," Rachel smiled. She had gone above and beyond to make her office feel homey. Pictures were hung on the wall, A coffeemaker sat in the corner under a rack that showed off the beautifully designed mugs that she had paid too much for, and the wax melt on her desk made the entire office smell like homemade banana bread.
"Look," Jax began. "I'm sure your husband told you about the little chat we had. But, I need your help, darlin'."
"I'm sorry about David. He gets a bit heated when he remembers we used to be together," Rachel felt awkward as she apologized for her husband's jealousy. "What are you needing?"
"You hear about Elliot's daughter?" Jax questioned as he stood in front of her desk. His fingers played with her pen holder.
"Yes," Rachel answered. "It's horrible."
"I need you to help us catch the sick son-of-a-bitch. The girl ain't talking—says she can't remember anything. But her mom is like a fucking leech. She won't let anyone even talk to the girl," Jax paused and stared into the brunette's eyes. "But Karen would let you in. You could talk to the girl—see if she remembers anything about the fucker that raped her."
"Oh no, Jax," she shook her head. "I can't do that. I work at a courthouse. And, even if I didn't, my husband is the Sherriff Deputy. I can't just hand a criminal over to you guys. It could ruin my career and David's."
"Rachel," the handsome criminal sighed. "I know I'm asking for a lot, darlin'. But, you know as well as I do, that if Hale gets him, the man will never pay for what he did. It'll take months of going through the court system before he's even sentenced. Then what? Two or three years before he's released from prison? Maybe less if he gets out for good behavior? You know how fucked up the system is. What would you want if that was your daughter?"
Jax stared at Rachel as he waited for her answer.
Finally, after what seemed like a century, she let out a long sigh.
"Okay. I'll come with you," Rachel answered. "Give me thirty minutes to wrap up some important paperwork."
Rachel and Jax quickly approached Gemma in the hallway.
"What the hell is she doing here?" Gemma asked. Her hands were placed firmly on her hips.
"Karen will let her in with Tristen," Jax stated.
"Bullshit," Gemma sneered as she eyed the younger woman. "I just caught her giving your husband an earful for asking Tristen how she was feeling."
Rachel's heart raced at the thought of David seeing her with Jax and Gemma.
"Shit," Jax ran a hand through his hair as he thought about what to do.
"Then you two are gonna need to work together. Eventually, Karen will have to leave the room. When that happens, Rachel will sneak inside the room and question Tristen, and Mom—you're gonna stand watch."
"I'm standing watch?" Rachel knew Jax's mother would have issues with his plan. "Why doesn't that Princess Dianna knockoff stand watch while I ask the questions?"
"Look," Rachel could see the stress in the biker's eyes. "I don't give a shit what you do. I just need a lead."
Rachel entered the room slowly as Gemma followed behind.
"Are you feeling any better?" Gemma asked as she cut in front of the brunette. "I guess there's a lot of people asking you questions."
Tristen reached for her phone.
"My mom told me to text her if anyone tried to—"
"Oh, it's okay, honey," Gemma softly spoke as she reached to grab the phone from the girl. "Your mom and I are old friends."
"She told me everything," Gemma continued as she sat on the edge of the hospital bed. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."
"She told you?" Tristen's voice was meek.
"Don't worry, baby," Gemma comforted. "It's gonna be okay."
"She told me to tell everyone I didn't remember," Tristen stuttered out.
A lightbulb seemed to flash in Gemma and Rachel's heads at the same time as they quickly made eye contact.
"You remember what he looks like?" Rachel questioned as she sat down in the chair beside the bed.
"Yes," Tristen began to sob.
"Tristen," Rachel spoked softly as she grabbed the girl's hand and squeezed it.
"I know how scared, and alone, and embarrassed you feel. When I left for college, a guy did this to me. And you know what I did about it?" Rachel paused as the girl looked up at her. "Nothing. I did nothing. I never told anyone what happened, and the guy never got in trouble for what he did to me. You know what the really sad part is? Because I didn't tell anybody, he could have hurt other girls too. You are such a strong, beautiful girl, Tristen. And we need to know what the guy looks like so we can stop him from doing this to someone else."
"One of the carny guys raped her, " Gemma told Jax as the three of them stood in the hallway again. "Fat guy—dressed like a clown."
"Jesus," Jax said before looking at Rachel. "Does Hale know?"
"I don't know," Rachel shrugged. "But if he doesn't, I'm sure she'll tell him soon."
"Shit," Jax said. "Thanks Mom, thanks Rachel." He mumbled before quickly making his way down the hall—in hopes of finding the man before David did.
"That was pretty cool," Gemma crossed her arms. "—what you did with Tristen."
"Thanks," the younger woman leaned against the wall.
"Is what you told her true?" Gemma was referring to Rachel's rape story.
"It doesn't matter," she purposely avoided the question. "Tristen's story is the one that matters."
Before Gemma could reply, David popped around the corner and froze in his spot when he saw his wife standing by the queen of bikers.
Rachel's heart raced as she immediately tried to think up excuses to cover up the fact that she had ruined her own husband's investigation. She saw his jaw tighten. She could practically hear his teeth grinding together out of anger.
Rachel laid in bed waiting for her husband to get home. She knew she had betrayed him. She would like to think she did it because she wanted the rapist to receive the punishment that he deserved—and she knew he wouldn't get that through the justice system.
She remembered her own rape. She was 19 when it happened. She couldn't imagine being as young as Tristen was. She couldn't imagine having her virginity ripped away at 13 by a sweaty, fat, old man. The man deserved death.
And though this was a large factor that led to her helping the Sons of Anarchy, in all honesty, she probably did it just because Jax asked her for help. She loved his company, it reminded her of the reckless love that they shared many years ago. Hearing his gruff voice was almost like an adrenaline rush for her.
She then heard the front door open and slam shut. Her heart began pounding once again, and she debated turning over and pretending to be asleep.
As he emerged into the bedroom, she could see the rage and the hurt that still flickered in his eyes.
"I've been thinking for the past few hours. Trying to figure out why you were in the hallway with Gemma—then I realized you must've been helping them find Tristen's rapist. Then, I tried to justify your behavior… And, honestly, I can't. I cannot figure out why you would help them when your husband is the sheriff. I am disappointed in you."
Rachel opened her mouth to answer him when he cut her off.
"I don't want to hear your excuses. I probably don't even want to know why you did it." He sat on the edge of their bed and began removing his shoes. "I'm going to go to sleep. Hopefully, by tomorrow morning I'll be cooled down."
"But," his voice became even more stern. "Ruin my investigation to help that low-life, criminal, ex-boyfriend of yours again, and this marriage is over."
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