"Baby, no... sweetie, come on, don't cry..."
Juice practically pleaded with Sofia to stop crying, but it was as though the girl knew that something was wrong. She had to have known. She wasn't hurt at all, but she had to have felt something. Mommy never left her alone. Mommy never let her cry for more than a few minutes, even when everyone told Mommy that it was normal for babies to cry.
Denise was an imperfect person, but she was an amazing mother, and in these darkest of moments, Juice realized that she, more than anything, was central to the ideal of a normal life that he held sacred in his mind. It wasn't the life he imagined if it didn't include her.
"Baby, please," he said tearfully, rocking his daughter gently. "I don't know what we're gonna do, Fifi, I don't know..."
Juice, too, had known something was not right from the minute he stepped into his house and found the back door ajar, with a rippling in the just-cleaned carpet that looked like someone had been dragged. Denise's gun had fallen and was left on the floor. He'd found Sofia safe in the bedroom but Denise was gone.
And now, Juice couldn't tell left from right anymore. He wanted to go looking for his wife, but he couldn't leave his daughter. He was completely alone. He thought back to when Denise had been in the hospital, back when Gemma had tried to kill her. Even that, Juice realized, didn't hurt like this. At least then, he knew where his wife was. He knew she was alive. He knew that if he needed to, he could find someone to keep Sofia safe while he took care of business.
Now, he realized, he was completely alone - and he remembered how much he hated it. What was he supposed to do? He choked back tears and held his daughter close, but she refused to be calmed.
"Fifi, baby, I'm sorry," he said. "I - I can't..."
He'd found the strength to leave Charming because of Denise, because he knew they would have each other and somehow muddle through - but without her, he didn't have anything. He couldn't do what he needed to do because he had to protect his daughter. His daughter had to come before everything.
He couldn't have described what fear possessed him in those moments, but it was only a short time before he had buckled Sofia into her carseat and gotten back on the road. Juice didn't want to be alone. He couldn't be alone - not if he wanted to protect his daughter and find his wife. Someone would have to understand. Someone would have to look out for them. Even if he had to beg.
Juice didn't want to be alone. He couldn't be alone.
Denise groaned, opening her eyes to her dark surroundings to the sensation of being nudged in the side. She made to rub her face to adjust her eyes, only to find that her wrists were bound. Her ankles were bound. She was lying on a cold stone floor, and as she squinted in the darkness, the light hair of the figure next to her stood in contrast.
Jax Teller was bound and sitting on the floor next to her, staring at her with an almost nauseated expression.
Denise almost gave in to her instinct of relief and compassion upon seeing his sitting there, his face bruised, his lip swollen and marred with dried blood. But instead, the deep sense of fear and apprehension at the sight of him caused her to quickly sit up and scoot across the floor away from him at least a yard.
"Where are we?"
"Fuck if I know," Jax retorted. "The fuck is wrong with you, running off like that?"
"The fuck is wrong with you, calling us out on TV? You could've gotten us killed!" Denise said shrilly. "I don't even know what happened to my daughter right now! For all I know, she could - she could be -"
Jax tensed at the sight of Denise this way - her hair was short, her eyes were frantic, and she was furious at him for what he'd done. Even if she bore no resemblance to Tara in any other way, right now in the dim light of the cold concrete room that served as their prison for the time being, he swore that he saw her.
"We need to worry about survivin' first, Deedee. You and me," he said through slightly gritted teeth. He was unprepared for the flash of anger that filled the woman's eyes at the suggestion, but he quickly realized that this was no longer the Denise who was complacent with his plans, who strove to help him. He very well may have killed that friendship. "Niners rolled up on us during a run, and when the Niners are involved, it's Marks. It has to be Marks -"
"Very astute, Jackson."
The large metal door groaned and creaked as it opened and August Marks stepped into the room, eyeing the pair of captives.
"Apologies for the... humble accommodations," he smirked, glancing around the room, his voice echoing slightly off of the stark walls. "But you see, I'm a bit pressed for resources lately."
He walked slowly towards the pair on the floor, and without warning, aimed a swift kick at Jax's side, sending him toppling onto his back.
"You ruined me, Jackson Teller," August sneered. "You ruined everything I've worked so hard to build -"
"Then kill me, just let the lady go," Jax hissed, his face still against the floor as he stiffened in pain. "Just -"
"I haven't decided what I'm going to do with either of you yet," August said calmly, rolling up his sleeves neatly and rolling his shoulders before looking back and forth between Jax and Denise. "I was fully prepared to let the girl run off with her little family and ride off into the sunset before your little stunt, but now, I'm a man with nothing to my name and I need to start over. Which means her resources have become... invaluable," Marks shrugged. He then crouched over and grabbed Denise by a fistful of her short hair and pulled her face close to his. "All I know is, you're going to help me," he sneered before casting her aside as well.
"I know I can't have Charming anymore. I know that plan is off the table," August said, now looking up at the tiny slit of a window close to the ceiling. "But it would be easy enough to burn that little shitsplat town to the ground. I'll get a good laugh out of it," he smirked to himself. "Because you're not going to get me put away. Not for long. So you two behave and keep one another company," he said with an eerie grin. "While I decide how useful you are to me."
August departed, but after the door groaned shut behind him, Jax again felt himself grow tense when he heard the sound of Denise whimpering on the ground next to him. He hesitated before turning to face her.
"Dee," he said stiffly. "Are you-"
"Am I okay?" Denise sneered. "Fuck you, Jax. We could've made it."
"I didn't tell them where you were," he answered, his voice blank and lacking its usual conviction. "I didn't want this -"
"You wanted to face Marks, didn't you? You wanted to take him down?" Denise said, forcing herself awkwardly to sit up and face him, drawing her knees closer to herself. "This is what you wanted -"
"And I'm sorry," Jax said, his teeth gritted. He couldn't look at her anymore, because with every angered contortion of her face, he saw Tara's face, he felt Tara's anger. "I can't do anythin' about this anymore, Dee - no matter how much you hate me for what I did and no matter how much I realize I shoulda let you and your family walk, none of that gets us out of here, does it?"
The response now was silence. He had a point. Denise inhaled sharply and shook her head, since she couldn't wipe away the tears that had started to collect in her eyes. But in the short time that she had managed to spend with her family away from Charming, she had grown attached to the idea of life without having to build their world around SAMCRO. Now, she needed Jax Teller and he needed her, or they'd never make it. She had to get out. She had to make sure that her daughter and her husband were safe.
"I'm not an idiot, Deedee," Jax spoke up again suddenly. "I know gettin' your family away from us was what you needed to do. I know seein' Bobby die tore your husband up too," he admitted. "But we were family, you don't just walk away -"
"My family," Denise interrupted fiercely, "has given everything for SAMCRO. My little girl had no say in anything, SAMCRO got to dictate how the first year of her life went - and Jax, I will lay down my life before I let SAMCRO control the rest of it."
Silence fell between the pair, and Jax's jaw clenched as his gaze met hers. He knew that she was right, that everything she was saying was true, but for the life of him, he couldn't get himself to truly accept the fact that SAMCRO - his family, the club he had built his world around - was ruining everything. It was destroying everything. "The night your brother branded you on the side of the road, the night we gave Juice back his kutte," Jax started, his gaze downcast. "I promised him that if we finished this with Marks, he could take his family and do what Tara and I couldn't. I told him, we finish this, all debts are paid. No strings attached."
"And he believed you?"
"I meant it," Jax retorted vehemently. "I wanted that for the two of you, for you to get free of all this -"
"And look where it got us -"
"Would you just lemme talk for a minute?" Jax sneered. "I lost sight of that. I know I did. But now, Marks is gonna run Charming into the ground. This is my home, this is innocent people. If you don't wanna help me, that's fine. If I killed our friendship, that's fine - but I need you and your husband to help me. I don't want any more innocent blood shed because of me."
Tig and Chibs led the pack of bikes up the road - the other club presidents had rushed into town, as had Marcus Alvarez at Nero's request, though Nero was conspicuously absent since Gemma had since been hospitalized. It was little surprise, though, that when she realized that Abel wanted nothing to do with her, her heart might have just given out.
But they had to meet somewhere that they'd be away from most prying eyes, especially because Jax wasn't the one making this call. It had been Happy's idea to head to the one place they were confident would be completely empty - the Ortiz residence. Chibs knew where the spare key was hidden, and he made his way up the front steps to open the door with every expectation of finding a dusty, empty house. When the door creaked open, however, he let out a string of curses at the sight of Juice Ortiz sitting silently on the sofa, holding his sleeping daughter.
"Jesus," Chibs muttered as the other men approached behind him. "What th'ell are you doin' here, boy? You're supposed to be long gone -"
"Dee's gone," he said tearfully, staring down at Sofia as thought he was physically incapable of letting go of her. "We thought we made it. We got out... but she's gone. I know Jax is behind this," he added blankly. "I know this is blowback for us tryin' to run -"
"Jax ain't here either, kid," Tig said walking past Chibs and into the house. "Got picked up by Niners. We're in a fuckin' bind here -"
"I don't care," Juice hissed, striving to keep his voice down only for the sake of his daughter, though his face contorted in anger. "I don't care where he's at."
"Well, you should. Wherever he's at is probably where your wife is at," Happy pointed out. Once Juice's guard was down, however, everyone began filing into the house, standing at different spots around the periphery of the living room, unsure of where to take the conversation after this unexpected turn. The direction, however, was dictated by the sound of another bike pulling up in front of the house. All eyes turned to the open door to see a man in a Grim Bastards kutte dismount his bike and stride up to the door.
"T.O.," Tig said, walking over to greet him with a handshake. "How'd you find us?"
"Followed the slowpoke," he said, nodding in Brucey's direction. "How ya'll gonna run an auto shop and let one of your boys' exhaust stay that fucked up?"
"What's your business with us?" Chibs asked apprehensively, his brow furrowing. Their relationship with the Grim Bastards was amiable, granted, but this was hardly their concern in this situation. T.O., however, nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Heard about your prez and the Niners," he said simply. "Bastards and Niners got beef that goes way back, and I don't want Niners or August Marks creeping on our territory. It's only good business for me to offer our support."
"Support for what?" Juice piped in, rising to his feet and staring around everyone at the room - the array of club leaders that seemed to form some kind of tribunal. "Shit. You're not goin' to war with Marks and the Niners, are you? Jesus -"
"We got no choice," Tig said, shaking his head and scratching his neck. "We're in this. This is fuckin' war - and your wife is a hostage. The mother of that little girl you're carryin'?" Tig said, sauntering closer to Juice but taking care not to raise his voice to a volume that would disturb the small child who was still sleeping. "We're too far in, and we need all the manpower we got."
Juice knew without hearing it that manpower included him - and the idea, he realized, didn't disgust him. They'd gone too far. They'd taken his wife and left no indication of what had become of her. He didn't know if Denise was alive or dead. But he knew one thing.
Marks did this. And if Denise was dead, Marks would wish that he was too.
A/N's
Phew. This chapter was a little rough to organize, but I hope it all makes sense! We're drawing nearer to another fun part, and I'm hoping I can do justice to the way I have it playing out in my head.
Also, I just wanted to mention to anyone who is still reviewing/messaging me about it that the author of the other story titled 'Lay Me Down' has sent me a message and we had an opportunity to clear the air. Stories can share titles. So thankfully, that whole ordeal is now laid to rest.
Anyway, the next chapter will hopefully be done within the next week! Until then, cheers!