Author's Note: I am getting a lot of questions in regards to this story and my other two babies.

As of now, There's Us, will continue, however, I need to get this one out of my system first. I have this clear road ahead of me and creatively, this story is in the forefront. I have already written a couple of chapters to Boots of Spanish Leather and I want to finish that before going on the road that will be There's Us.

For, I Won't Give Up, I feel that for now, that one is done. I loved my last chapter, my journey as a writer ending with Jax's demise, however, I keep having these strings of thoughts, of a younger Jax and Tara, that I want to explore. One-shots that may lead to another sets of stories or perhaps, I'll just add them to I Won't Give Up. I am still in the deciding process. Any input would be gladly accepted.

As for Boots of Spanish Leather, please be warned that this one is slightly darker than the other three. There will be a lot of heartbreak and dark material I want to cover, but keep in mind, that Jax and Tara are my OTP. There are a couple of sayings that go like "sometimes, people need to fall apart to come together," and "if, some two people are meant to be together, they'll find their way back." I will not say anymore, however, I am a true believer of these sayings. Just be patient.

Now, these couple of chapters will be sad for us, Jax and Tara lovers, however, the darker parts will come later on. Let's say chapter 20ish, around there. So sit tight and enjoy the ride.

Please review and respond. Thanks.

XOXO

Chapter 14

Saturday, May 17th, 1997, almost midnight

"This shit don't feel right, Op."

"Shhh," hissed Opie, as he wired the dynamite together.

Jax ran over the plan in his head. They were neck deep in Nevada, where they were suppose to destroy multiple Mayan heroin shops.

Clay decided to split the club into factions, with Opie, Kyle and Jax taking charge of the Mayan heroin shop near Las Vegas. When it was all said and done, they were all suppose to meet in his Uncle Jury's clubhouse, were his father's old friend agreed to offer an alibi, when the FEDS got involved for the explosion.

Jax wiped the sweat that was forming in his brow. "Who the fuck sets up shop in the middle of the fucking Mojave Desert?" he muttered. "I thought deserts are suppose to be cold as fuck in the middle of the night?"

"Usually," muttered Opie, his fingers working rapidly.

"How much longer?" whispered Jax anxiously. "I want to get the fuck out of here."

Kyle was a couple of miles down the road from them, waiting in the get away car. Although Kyle was patched in a couple of months before himself and Opie, Jax didn't trust his fellow brother with a inch of his life.

"Almost done..." whispered Opie.

Jax looked on for a couple of minutes his anxiety building as the minutes trickled by. His gut was telling him that things were going to go sour but he stuck to it because Clay and the club depended on this job to get done.

"Retaliation for Otto," he muttered as he watched his best friend make the final touches.

"What?" hissed Opie as he crouched lower, their hiding spot behind a massive desert bush barely concealing them both.

"Nothing." Jax shone the flashlight closer to the sticks. "You look done."

"I am done," replied Opie. "Let's go. We don't got a lot of time before the Mayans come to check on their shit."

Both stood and quietly made their way to the decrepit little house that was a cover for the Mayans heroin shop.

Opie placed the sticks near a door and whispered, "when I light this up, make a fucking dash for it. We got like 2 minutes before this shit blows the fuck up. We run. Whatever happens, just keep fucking running, don't stop and look behind you. We got Old Ladies to get to."

Jax nodded and watched as Opie crouched down ready to light the dynamite sticks. "Ready?" Opie looked up at him.

Jax nodded and swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

The match looked beautiful against the dark, desert night, its light briefly illuminating both their young faces. As the match fire caught into the fuse, Opie yelled run and they both dashed towards the direction where Kyle was suppose to be waiting with the car.

Both ran as fast as they could until they heard the unmistakable BOOM of the house exploding. Jax felt the heat hit his neck and he ran faster than before not daring to look back at the house in flames. He felt Opie at his heels.

Both ran towards the car and were hit with an unexplainable truth shortly upon reaching their destination.

"Where the fuck is Kyle?" Jax yelled as he stopped short.

Opie looked around frantically stopping next to Jax, his breathe coming out in short spurts.

"What the fuck?"

At a distance, there was a louder BOOM as the drugs within the house caught ablaze as well.

For a couple of moments, both looked at the destruction of Mayan property.

"You hear that?"

Jax perked up as he recognize the sound.

"SHIT!"

Both men sprinted away from the road into the desert darkness.

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Sunday, May 18th, 1997, mid-morning

"Maybe we should split up?" Opie panted his face flushed with the heat.

"I'm going to fucking kill that piece of shit when I find him."

Jax shrugged off his flannel button up and wiped the sweat off his face.

They had been walking for hours, the heat of the Nevada desert relentlessly beating down their faces. Jax felt weak and the fatigue and thirst weren't helping much. Opie was struggling to keep up with him.

"Clay will find us. He wouldn't leave us here to die."

Jax scoffed. "He sure ain't going to go anywhere near the area where the explosion happened. FEDS are probably all over the crime scene now. Fucking cops weren't suppose to be there last night."

"How about we split? Maybe one of us could find help then get the other one. We raise our chances of being found if we split."

"And how would be explain being here in the middle of the fucking desert, Op? What bright ideas you have?" snapped Jax. "I knew this shit would go fucking left."

"Then why the fuck you agreed to it?" snapped Opie.

Jax stopped walking and looked at his friend. "For Otto. Cause I felt like shit for skipping out town with my girl while he was being locked up. Cause this was suppose to be the last one..."

Jax stopped talking and looked at his best friend. Opie rose his eyebrows in surprise. "Your last what exactly?"

Wiping the sweat from his brow with his tatted arm, Jax sighed, "I'm done, Op. Tara and I want to leave Charming. Shit with the club hasn't be right for months now. I'm done."

"You can't be done with Samcro, bro. It's in our blood. All you ever wanted was a Harley and kutte since we were five."

Jax shook his head. "That was before, Op. I want different things now."

"Does this have to do with Tara? Is she brainwashing you?"

"NO. Tara is not brainwashing me, Opie. I am more than capable of making my own decisions." Jax ran one of his hand against his face before continuing. "All our lives, shit have been decided for us. We have to prospect to join the club, we have to drop out of school to be part of the club, we got to punch in hours at TM to learn how to cover the dirty money we make with gun running, we got to lie and kill to protect the club. It's fucking exhausting, Op. For once in my life, I want to feel like I am making a decision for me not for what it will potentially do for the club."

Both stood in the blistering heat, silent for a few moments. Opie swung his arm and punched him right in the face.

Landing on his ass, Jax stayed on the floor and squinted his eyes to look at his best friend.

"You and I are suppose to take the gavel one day. You and I have been wanting this since we were kids. You and I prospected together, we patched in together, we were suppose to ride and die together. And now you come with this bullshit? We are suppose to love the club above anything else. Instead you are leaving it all behind. You are leaving us behind. You are going to do the one unforgivable thing-you quitting SAMCRO. That, Jackson, is the ultimate betrayal."

Jax stood. "Opie..."

"Find your own fucking way."

Jax watched his best friend walk further into the desert heat.