"It's not poisoned, Jackson," Charles said, sliding the glass of scotch across the glass table towards Jax, who eyed it warily. "The last thing I want to do is make a martyr out of you. Poison would be too obvious."
Jax sneered slightly as he looked across the table at Charles Kwan. From the way the man spoke, clad in his designer Italian suit, you almost would never be able to tell that he was simply a sidekick, a lapdog that August Marks was pulling along on a leash. Finally, Jax picked up the glass and took a swig, not taking his eyes away from Charles. When Jax took a drink and wasn't harmed, Charles smirked and extended his own glass, clinking it against Jax's and nodding slightly.
"I'm a man of honor," Charles said. "And a good host."
"Right," Jax laughed darkly, finally comfortably drinking out of the glass presented to him by Charles. "I know you're not. I don't think you want me to start givin' examples, Kwan."
Now, Charles wordlessly raised his own glass to take a drink, and Jax's lips curled further into a grin as he began feeling that he was gaining the upper hand in the conversation. He shifted his weight, leaning his elbows onto his knees.
"Since you were such a gracious host, Mr. Kwan," he said icily, "I'll give you fair warning. If you set foot in Charming and think that I'm going to let pieces of shit like you and Marks run my town, you'll both fuckin' burn. And if she wants the honor, I'll even let your own sister strike the match."
"Mei wouldn't kill me. I'm her family -"
"Her family is her husband and her daughter. She's a Mama," Jax said, a strange sense of pride now filling his expression. "And I know Mamas. She will put that man and that baby girl above you without battin' one pretty little lash on those China doll eyes of hers. She's one of ours now. She's one of us."
And Jax knew - Denise had killed blood for the club before. For Juice. He knew, even better than Charles did, that Denise's loyalties had fallen away from him and would no longer belong to him. The only blood that mattered to Denise was Sofia.
"You can't stop us," Charles said, his forced calm betrayed by the fact that his jaw was becoming tight and clenched. "August and I have big plans for your little town. You can't fight progress, Jackson."
"We'll see, Mr. Kwan," Jax said, shooting the man a somehow feral grin, his teeth bared and his lips tight as he reached out, mirroring Charles' earlier gesture; Jax reached over and clinked his empty glass against Charles' before slamming it down on the table. "We'll see. Tell your master that we still got business."
He then got to his feet and started back towards the staircase. It was only halfway down that he realized something.
He had lost track of Denise.
"Buhaoyisi," Denise apologized, backing away from the inhabitants of the back room she had come across. "Yaozoule."*
Denise's tongue stammered clumsily over the Chinese words, holding her hands up defensively. She had been snooping around the bar and slipped past one of the ladies carrying bottles of champagne submerged in buckets of ice. She'd gotten all the way back to the kitchen when she'd made the call to slip through an unmarked door, only to find herself in a room that appeared to be where the scantily clad girls that filtered in and out of the VIP lounge to entertain the men came to get ready
"We understand English pretty good," one of the girls spoke up, though her words were heavily accented. Denise quickly realized they all stared at her with annoyance. "Are you new? Because if you think you can just come in and take our clients -"
"Oh, no, no," Denise said, shaking her head rapidly. "I don't work here. I just - I'm lost," she stammered weakly. Upon hearing that the thin, pretty girl who had just stumbled into their midst wasn't competition for customers, the girls seemed to take some comfort, and a few went back to applying their makeup. Denise let out a breath and glanced around.
"I'm... Xiao-mei," Denise said carefully, reflexively withholding her real name. The girls seemed to think nothing of it, not recognizing her at all based on their nonchalance. Instead, the girl who had spoken to Denise moments earlier crossed her arms over her bikini-top clad chest and walked over.
"I'm Wenya," the girl said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "If you don't work here and you don't want to, you should go before they catch you. A pretty girl like you could get in trouble in a place like this."
"Why are there so many of you?" Denise asked, glancing around at the crowded room of girls. It didn't seem like any of them were seeing any clients tonight, so it seemed excessive to cram the girls in like cattle. Wenya laughed, shaking her head.
"This is where girls come to wait for a spot."
"Wait for a spot?"
"At another 'restaurant'," Wenya supplied with a smirk, with the suggestion very clear to Denise indeed. "When a new one opens, they pick out girls from here. The best girls get picked first so - you can see why we didn't want a hot piece of ass like you takin' a spot," she smirked. "You've got that fresh, virginal thing."
"I have a daughter."
"Well, lucky you," Wenya snickered. "But - you get on out. If Charlie sees you, he'll turn you out whether you wanna work here or not."
The idea of being turned out by her brother made Denise's stomach churn, so she nodded shortly before turning to leave. She hurried out the direction she came, back towards the kitchen. Before she could reach the door back onto the main floor of the club, however, she felt an arm curl around her thin forearm and yank her backwards, turning her to face him.
"You."
Denise's breath hitched in her throat in vague recognition - he had been one of the men with Charles that night on the highway, the ones who had held her down while Charles took the soldering iron to her. She attempted to pull her arm away, but his eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. And then, she realized the lustful expression glinting behind his eyes as he looked her up and down.
The old, unbridled anger that Denise had once sworn by bubbled to the surface - the anger that she'd lived by before meeting Juice, before all of this. She felt her blood immediately run hot. Her fist clenched at her side, and she moved quickly, without thinking, not even realizing what she had done until after the heel of her other hand collided with the taller man's ear. He let out a roar and clutched the side of his head in pain, and Denise's lip curled in disgust. He had only been tough when she was tied up, when she couldn't fight back. She was unappeased and was starting the motions of striking again until she felt another hand close around her other arm, pulling her away and through the door, into the dark, loud club floor.
She stumbled and turned to face this second figure, but in the dark lighting, it wasn't until she was standing inches away that she realized that it was Jax.
"Where the fuck d'you run off to?"
"What?"
Denise struggled to hear him, so she had to lean closer in order to understand his question. As she did, a bright flash of light caught the corner of her eye and caused her to flinch, but she shook her head to clear the bright white glare that it left behind in her vision.
"There's a holding area for the girls, they keep them in the back," Denise said, assured that no one could make heads or tails of their conversation over the loud music. "Said that they're just waiting for a spot in a new location, said new restaurants should be popping up soon."
Jax's jaw clenched, and his grip on Denise's arm tightened instinctively as it dawned on him - this included their locations in Charming. They were planning on building in Charming, and moving in on the gap left while Diosa recovered from the massacre at the hands of the Triads. Nero was still struggling finding enough girls to handle Diosa's clients, now that they knew what had happened to Colette and the others. August Marks and Charles Kwan wanted their hands in everything.
"Jax," Denise piped in, talking loudly over the music. "There's nothin' else for us to do here."
He nodded curtly, releasing her arm and scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah. Let's bail."
Juice didn't ask any questions when Denise came back home past midnight in a dress that was barely a dress at all - the skirt was hardly longer than an Ace bandage, but he didn't make any comments when she came off of Jax's bike dressed that way. He let her hop in the shower and they got into bed to sleep, all in the same room, peace and quiet.
But he got up the next morning and went outside for a run - he'd taken it up to replace smoking, since he'd quit cold turkey the when Sofia had started coming to the house - then returned to the front porch to see the local paper that must have just been dropped off by the paper boy. He took it inside and thumbed through it over coffee when he came across a small story with a photo of two familiar faces and a questionable headline indeed. On instinct, he stormed back to the bedroom where Denise was just waking up and getting dressed.
"What the hell were you and Jax doing at your brother's restaurant last night?"
"Investigating!"
"Investigating what?" Juice snapped, unfolding the newspaper with a snap and holding it out to Denise to display the story in question. It was small, even for a story in a smalltown paper, and nudged into the corner of the lifestyle section, but nonetheless, the headline was incriminating in and of itself.
Bay Area Trust Fund Baby With Biker Beau?
Underneath the headline was a photo of Jax and Denise, their faces close to one another, with Jax gripping Denise's arm and pulling her closer - Denise's lips pursed in annoyance when she realized that someone had snapped a photo of them inside of the club. That was what the bright light had been when they'd been talking. Charles had planned it this way, to set them up - to stir the pot.
"Yeah, okay," she said stiffly. "That looks pretty bad."
"Pretty bad?" Juice said, throwing the newspaper onto the unoccupied bed. Denise shot him a piercing look, warning him not to raise his voice any higher because Sofia was still in her crib in the room. Juice's jaw clenched, and he forced himself to take a breath, his nostrils flaring. "You're not the one in the club. I am. You shouldn't be runnin' around in these little pornstar dresses playing Carmen San Diego. You should be here, at home, with Sofia - with everythin' your brother's got planned, you should be on lockdown with someone watching you every second of the -"
Juice paused when he saw the expression on Denise's face, her eyebrows raised as though she dared him to repeat what she just said. Denise, everyone knew, was fiercely independent, and based practically her entire identity on that fact. The insinuation that she needed to be protected, to be put on lockdown, was enough to set her off, and Juice knew it. She stared at him in fury for a few moments before taking a few steps. Juice realized that she was heading for the door, however, and stopped her in her tracks.
"Don't turn this back on me, Dee," he said, but she refused to look at him. "Denise. Just - dammit, just listen for once, a'right? I don't wanna lose you and Fifi. You and Sofia are my life. You and I both know that Jax is never gonna take down Marks. This shit is gonna blow up in his face, and - and -"
Juice paused, groaning and clasping his fingers behind his neck as he looked upward. "Jax... is my brother. I love 'im," Juice said, finally managing to look Denise in the eye. "But this might take him down, going up against Marks like this. I know that. Everyone knows that. And if it does, if I have to lose a brother, I sure as hell don't wanna lose you too. So..."
Juice felt encouraged by the fact that Denise's gaze softened in understanding, and he reached out to place his hands on her shoulders, leaning his forehead against hers. "Just... step back from this, okay?" he asked. "Please? You and me, we step back as much as we can. Okay?"
Denise paused, inhaling and biting her lip in hesitation. One on hand, the fight with Marks was so very personal for her, she couldn't imagine doing what Juice asked. She wanted revenge too, just as much as Jax did, though for different reasons. But on the other hand, Juice was right. They had to protect their family, the family they had waited so long to put together. And they wanted to get out of this eventually - to find peace. And in the end, Denise knew - she wanted to honor her father and grandfather. She wanted to avenge them and the dishonor Charles was bringing to their name. But at the end of the day, cherishing the living came before honoring the dead.
"Baby, please," Juice insisted. "I'm trying to man up. I'm tryin' to take care of you, of our family, but you gotta let me, Dee."
The request hit Denise like an arrow to the heart - because she knew it was true. She knew that Juice wanted more than anything to feel like he was taking care of them, like he was doing something good. Like he had a purpose. As much as she felt squeamish at the thought of giving up control, of stepping back, she knew that she owed him this chance.
"Okay," she said almost inaudibly. Juice's shoulders sagged in relief, and he rushed forward, collecting his wife in his arms and holding her tightly. Only then did Denise feel truly convinced that she had made the right choice.
"I won't let anything happen to you, baby," he muttered into her hair. "Nothing's gonna hurt you. Nothing, nobody."
A/N's
*Translation- "I'm sorry. I have to go." (Had to leave off some of the accents, as they weren't coming in correctly when uploaded)
So, a lot of little details crammed into one chapter, just setting the stage for what's to come! I'm hoping to update at least one more time, maybe twice before Tuesday, but I don't think I will post on the day of the series finale because I'm at a week-long seminar for work, and also have a fancy schmancy dinner to attend, right before coming home to watch!
I might add some happier moments into the chapters to come, because we're going to need it, and I have a very, very heavy chapter coming up soon. I don't want to stack that on top of the series finale, I don't think my poor little heart could handle it!
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Until next time, cheers!