Chapter 12

Thursday, May 15th, 1997

Jax parked the old wagon and shut his eyes. It was still quiet in the lot, given that it was early in the morning and he relished the moments of tranquility he had before the shit storm that was his mother and stepfather came into Teller-Morrow.

He had dropped Tara at her house after a long drive from the Sur. They had left before sunrise to beat traffic and had made it back to Charming in record time. Exhausted from their two day mini-vacation, Tara gave him a kiss on the lips and made him promise to think about her proposition. He drove away with many conflicting thoughts, his head not clearer than when he left with her two days ago.

Jax sighed and open the door to the wagon, exiting quietly. His sore body begged for a hot shower and he slowly made his way to the eerily silent clubhouse.

To his surprise, it was empty. No club members, no croweaters... Absolutely empty. Making his way to the back rooms, Jax looked around and saw that everything seem to be in order.

Entering the room he declared as his, Jax shut the door and quickly stripped off from all his confinements.

Laying down for a bit, Jax closed his eyes and drifted to a restless sleep.

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It was the persistent knocking that woke him up. Sitting up, Jax rubbed his eyes before getting up and slowly opening the door.

"What?" he bit out, annoyed that he was awoken.

Opie shook his head. "I got some bad news, brother. Church in five..."

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"How the fuck did this happen?" asked Jax, as he nervously tapped his foot and looked around the Reaper table.

Tig scoffed.

Jax tensed and felt Opie pat him in the back. "Got something to say?"

Tig's icy blue eyes locked with his. "If you weren't too busy playing house with Little Miss Perfect, this might not have happened! We needed all men here and you went MIA. "

Jax rose from his seat so fast his chair banged against the wall. "Careful what you say next Tiggie..." he growled.

Tig stood as well and placed his hands against the Redwood table. Leaning forward, a sneer firmly placed against his face, Tig replied, "You'll do what Prince Charming? Kill me?"

Opie stood and clasped one of his hand on Jax's shoulder. "Come on brother, he ain't worth it." Opie also glared at Tig.

"Enough!" Clay slammed his hand against the table. "All three of you, sit your ass down. We got to figure out what to do next. One of ours is sitting in a cell, about to do hard time for the club. We got to figure out a way to make this right."

Jax grabbed his chair and sat down not breaking eye contact with Tig.

"Jax," Clay called. "Next time you decide to disappear without permission of the club, I, myself, will fucking rip that patch from the kutte."

"Not without a club vote, you ain't" said the man sitting next to Clay.

Jax averted his eyes to look at his father's best friend, who sat smoking next to Clay. Piney leaned back against his chair and looked Clay in his eyes. "You might be President of Redwood Original but don't forget you got other members who you answer to. That patch you wear so proudly could easily be ripped from your kutte too, Clay. Don't you fucking forget that. There is always someone who could step into those shoes you are wearing." Piney looked at Jax next and pointed his finger at him. "And you, boy, next time you want to skip town with your Old Lady, give the rest of us a heads up. Common courtesy and all. The club was down a man cause you were wherever you were." Piney paused and took a drag of his cigarette. "We got intel from Trammel that the Mayans were planning on attacking our warehouse in Lodi. We got most of the guns out and hid them in Stockton. In the last trip over, the cops pulled Otto over. The van had a case of AKs."

Jax ran one of his hands across his tired eyes. "How much time?"

"Fifteen to twenty-five. Ten with good behavior," answer Bobby. "Rosen is trying to get the charges thrown out but it don't look good."

"Fuck," muttered Jax, feeling the guilt spread rapidly. "How is Luanne doing?"

Clay lit up a Cuban and looked at his stepson. "Gemma is with her. The porn queen is in hysterics."

"We got to do right by her," Bobby said.

The men around the table muttered in agreement.

"Luanne will have nothing missing. We will take care of her as best as SAMCRO can. Now, we got to talk about the next step." Leaning forward against the table, Clay rested the weight of his upper body on his arms. "The Mayans got to pay for Otto."

The sergeant-in-arms nodded in agreement. "Clay is right. We lost one of our guys to Stockton. If it weren't for the Mayans plan surprised party, Otto would be sitting here with us, right now."

"What do you want to do?" Bobby asked.

Clay looked around the table before settling his eyes on his stepson. "Retaliation. One of them for one of ours."

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He blew out the smoke that filled his lungs as he looked out to the moon. Everything inside him was twisted in knots. His gut was telling him that Clay's plan would cause chaos in Charming if its not executed to perfection.

He felt her arms wrap around his waist. She kissed his shoulder briefly and lean her head against his bare back. "I hate when you smoke in my room," she whispered.

He blew out the last smoke in his lungs and put out the cigarette on her windowsill. He interlaced this fingers as they both stared out the window.

"The moon is red," he whispered.

"Yea, it is."

"Red like blood."

"It's a lunar eclipse, baby. The moon is passing directly behind Earth's shadow. Means that the Sun, Earth and moon are perfectly aligned."

A small smile spread across his lips. "Always the nerd, Knowles."

He felt her smile against his back. "You know you love it, Teller."

"Yes, I do. I love everything about you Tara."

They were quiet for a while, standing in her dark room, looking out to the moon.

"The Incas believed that Blood Moons were bad luck. Something about an evil jaguar eating the moon thus making it bleed hence the term Blood Moons."

"Where did you read that?"

He felt Tara shrug. "In some book, somewhere." She paused. "Do you want to tell me what has you so worried?"

He turned around. He grabbed her face gently. "It's nothing you should worry about, babe."

"I hate seeing you like this."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "I know...It's just... there is a lot going on with the club."

"I know about Otto. Rumor has it he had some guns in his..."

"Let's not talk about that, Tara. Please," he pleaded with his eyes.

Tara sighed and ran one of her hands against his hair. "Ok. But if you want to talk, I'm here. I'm always here."

He gave her small smile. "I know." He gave her a small kiss and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Babe..."

"Yea?"

"What would happen if we were to leave? What would happen in New York if we go there?"