Author's note:
Hi! Almost reaching the end... Please R&R!
XOXO
Chapter 28
Monday, September 1st, 1997 3:16pm
"Why do you want to patch in?" Jax took a drag of his cigarette.
"Girls, guns, and bikes. Who wouldn't want to patch in?"
"That's a dumb reason to patch in, grunt." Jax put out his cigarette. "The club is more than just pussy, guns, and Harley's. It's a brotherhood. These men are suppose to have your back, through thick and thin and you theirs. You never turn on a brother and the club comes first. You would take a bullet for a brother and you would fight for a brother. You would do time for a brother and no pussy gets in between the brotherhood. Blood might make you related by loyalty makes you family," Jax finished off.
Juice nodded. "I really didn't have a family. My Dad bounced when I was a kid and my Mom was too busy working too many jobs in the streets of Queens," Juice poured himself a shot of Jamison.
Jax nodded. "Gemma is the mother hen here. You want a mother's tit to suck, there is Gemma."
Juice looked at his hands. "I know things are weird between you two…"
"You don't know shit," snapped Jax taking the bottle and drinking straight from it. "Now, if you want to be Samcro, you have to prove that you could be Samcro."
Juice sat up straighter. "I'll do whatever you guys need me to do."
"No, you are going to do what I want. You want me to sponsor you, then you are going to be my double agent, Juan Carlos."
"What?"
Jax leaned over and motioned for Juice to get closer. "Let's just say, you are going to be my own personal James Bond, Juicy boy."
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Monday, September 1st, 1997 7:02pm
Clay banged the gavel and dismissed the members from church.
"Jax, a word."
Jax looked at his stepfather and sat back in his chair while the rest of the members gave both men curious looks.
Chibs nodded at Jax and closed the door.
Clay lit a cigar and leaned back on his chair.
"You made the right call…"
"What are you taking about?" Jax leaned forward and placed his arms on the Reaper table.
"Tig did some digging and the Mayans VP, Marcus, apparently is not one to fuck with. Was born into the life and knows nothing but the life. He lives and breathes the MC world. Rumor has it, he killed his own brother with his own hands when there were suspicions that the bro ratted the club out to the feds."
"Then its best to leave el Carnal in power as long as possible."
Clay looked at Jax and took a long pull of his cigar. "Yes, it's what's best for the club but it's not good for business. If the Niners and the Mayans go to war, our business will flourish."
"If the Niners and the Mayans go to war, that's more heat coming to Stockton and Oakland. That shit will bleed over to Charming, Clay."
"I know and that's the only reason why I am not going to expand our business just yet. However, in there lies a massive problem, Jax. How are we going to make up that revenue? Lawyer fees have really put a dent in our finances and we cannot increase taxes within the club." Clay smirked.
"And you are telling me this because..." Jax trailed off.
"Because, Prince Charming, it is up to you to find another method of us to make up that income."
"What?"
"You want peace in Charming? Well, that peace will cost you. You have three months to come up with a plan. If in those three months, we are balls deep in debt with the Irish, then we are selling more guns. I don't give a shit if the Niners and the Mayans shoot each other to Timbuktu."
"And the fucking feds?"
"Well, don't you want the bitch that killed Opie to come to Charming? Well, there is the incentive."
Jax shook his head. "You are a bigger fool than what I thought. For once think about what's good for the fucking club not what's good for your pockets."
"I am thinking for the good of the club, son. It's just you are too fucking blind with grief to see it. You think that letting the Mayans gain power is fucking smart? No. It's fucking stupid. The more power they get, the more powerless Samcro gets. Pretty soon, we will have cholos in low riders riding thru Charming. All the fucking cred your father and I worked for flushed down the fucking drain."
"I wouldn't let that happen," protested Jax. "Clay, it's about thinking beyond next year. Where do you see Samcro in twenty years? Or how about forty years from now? Still selling guns for the Irish? Members dying left and right due to turf wars and other petty shit?"
Clay put down his cigar on the ashtray in front of him.
"Samcro is only as strong as its weakest link, son. We need the Irish to build; to put fear into other MCs and gangs. The more guns we sell, the bigger our network will get."
"But at what cost? The lives of our brothers?"
"Nothing will happen to our brothers. The Niners will handle the Mayans. They are the ones in a war not us. We are just the suppliers."
Jax grunted out of frustration. "We aren't getting anywhere. We are just going around in fucking circle." He moved his chair to stand.
"Wait," said Clay. "We aren't finished." Clay picked up his cigar. "Your mother is not doing so good."
"And?" sassed Jax. "She is your old lady, handle her."
"No one handles Gemma Teller-Morrow."
Jax stood. "Well, then you got your life cut out for you."
Jax walked towards the door.
"That woman has given you everything. Love, food, a family."
Jax paused before opening the door. "Yes, she has. She has also given me sorrow and regret."
With that said, Jax opened the door and walked out into the clubhouse.
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Monday, September 1st, 1997 9:57pm
Jax parked his bike three blocks away. He walked quickly to his destination and saw the parked black sedan across the street. Jax walked towards it and knocked on the window.
"Are you sure this is the address, grunt?" he asked in a low voice.
Juice nodded. "Yes, it is." Juice looked at him with questioning eyes. "Jax, why are you doing this?"
Jax shrugged his shoulders. "Just keeping life beautiful. Now get the fuck out of here and tell no one of this. You mutter one fucking word and you'll kiss that patch you desperately want goodbye before I put a fucking bullet in between your eyes. "
Juice had enough sense to roll up the window and drive without muttering a word.
Jax turned and walked towards the front door of the small house.
He knocked and he waited for someone to answer the door.
A young woman answered. She looked surprise to see him and her eyes quickly travelled to his kutte.
"Dios mio," she opened her mouth to scream but Jax quickly interjected.
"I am not here to harm you. I need to speak to your Old Man."
Jax looked over her shoulder and saw him walking from the back of the house.
"I just want to talk, man. I swear." Jax opened his kutte. "I am not armed. I actually need your help."
Marcus came to stand next to his girlfriend and ordered her to go out back. He quickly shut the door.
"You come to my house, ese, with my Old Lady here."
Jax could understand why Marcus Alvarez was so feared. The hard glint of his eyes and the way he walked reminded Jax of a panther waiting to strike.
"I could fucking kill you for being here, ese. My family lives here, cabron."
"I know, man, but I need your help."
"So you said. Now, why would Samcro's golden boy come here, to enemy territory to ask a member of one of his rival MCs for help."
Jax sat on Marcus's stoop. "Sit and I will explain but first, I must have your word, that this conversation stays with us."
Marcus remained as still as a statue.
"Look Marcus, I am just like you. I know nothing but the club and I would die for my brothers but shit ain't right. I love my club and I love my brothers but shit ain't right and I have to fix it. I know you would do the same if the Mayans were in trouble."
"What guarantees do I have this ain't some shit Samcro is planning to ambush my club?"
"Listen, if I would had wanted to hurt you, I would have fucking put a bullet in you already. All I had to do was wait for you and your old lady to go to bed. Instead, I am here, in your turf, not armed, no back up. You are probably carrying right now. Put the gun to my head and hear me out. If you aren't convince, go ahead and pull the trigger."
Marcus looked briefly surprised but quickly put on his stoic face.
"Go on, say what you are going to say and then get the fuck off my property, ese."
Jax reached into his pocket and pull out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and quickly motioned for Marcus to sit. "This might take a while, so I suggest you get comfortable."
Marcus nodded and made his way to sit next to Jax. Jax offered him a cigarette and Marcus shook his head.
"Now, this shit is going to sound crazy but you are the only one who could help me."
"How?" asked an intrigued Marcus.
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Monday, September 1st, 1997 11:31pm
"You want me to help you out, ese, you got to prove to me you aren't full of shit."
Jax nodded. "Whatever you need just let me know."
"Let's go now."
Jax stood.
"Where are we going?" asked Jax as he followed Marcus to his garage.
Marcus opened up his truck and motioned for Jax to get in. "An old amigo needs a situation to be handled."
Jax climbed into Marcus's truck. "Not club business, I am assuming."
Marcus put his car on reverse and easily pulled out of his garage. "That's none of your business, ese. You just help me out with this situation and I will make sure you got Mayan support when your plan comes to play."
"Don't you have to get passed el Carnal?"
Marcus drove silently for a bit. "Don't you worry about him, either."
Jax sensed that Marcus was done conversing so Jax decided to stay shut and look out the window.
They drove for a while with Marcus not muttering a word the whole way there.
Marcus parked around a building that looked like a warehouse.
"Leave your kutte here."
Marcus shrugged off his own kutte and placed it in the backseat. Jax looked at Marcus.
"I thought tonight was about us building trust, ese?" Marcus said stoically. "Leave the kutte here. There is a gun in the glove department. Bring it in." With that said, Marcus hopped off his truck and waited for Jax.
"Fuck it," muttered Jax and shrugged off his kutte and placed it on the backseat next to Marcus's. He got the Glock out of glove department.
Jax got off the truck and shut the door. He put the Glock on the back of his jeans and concealed it with his hoodie.
Marcus nodded and opened the door to the warehouse.
Jax expected an actual warehouse so he was surprised when he saw a pleasantly decorated establishment.
Beautiful women in nice, tight dresses walked around, with different men hanging around them, drinks in their hands. The further he and Marcus walked into the establishment, the telltale moans of couples having sex could be heard.
A blonde woman with huge tits, walked towards Marcus and gave him a brief kiss on the lips. She whispered something into his ear and Marcus nodded.
"Come with me," said Marcus and Jax followed him upstairs.
They walked to the end of the hall and Marcus was polite enough to knock on the door. Jax heard the clear "come in," and followed Marcus into a nice office.
Behind the desk, a man close to Gemma's age sat, looking over books. His hair was jet black and Jax saw old tats in his arms.
He looked up as Marcus and Jax walked into the office. Jax shut the door as the man stood and walked around the desk and grasp Marcus in a massive hug.
"Hermano, thank you for coming."
Marcus patted the man on the back. "Anytime, mano. Anytime."
The men broke apart and Marcus pointed at Jax.
"This is Jax. He is going to help out with the situation."
The man stepped forward and brought out his hand. "Nero Padilla, founder and owner of Diosa."
Jax shook the man's hand. "Jax Teller," he looked nervously at Marcus.
"Don't worry, Teller. Nero will keep his mouth shut."
Marcus sat in one of couches that adorned the office.
Nero nodded. "My situation needs to be handled in the uttermost discretion. The streets cannot know I was hit."
Jax sat in the opposite end of the couch were Marcus was sitting. "Can one of you fill me in on what happened?"
Nero sat opposite both men. "I been building my business for the past two years. My clients are respectful gentlemen of the community that need some companionship outside the 9-to-5."
"That's what you are calling it?" smirked Jax.
"That's what I am calling it. Diosa provides female companionship to men that need a certain type of release. Now, the pull of my business is that once my clients come in, they are handled by my girls in a certain matter."
"Meaning?"
"Men pay to be serviced and my girls know that they need to keep what happens behind closed door quiet. Not even I could ask what my clients talked about with my girls once they are locked in one of the rooms. But, things have gotten complicated. One of my former clients has gotten a bit possessive with one of my girls. Followed her home the other day and gave her a good beating."
"Why didn't you call the cops? Seems to me you are running a respectful and legal business."
Marcus interjected. "Nero is from the streets. He lives by the code."
"And…" interrupted Nero. "The former client is a crooked cop."
Jax laughed a bit. "You should have started of with that."
Nero smiled. "I believe in leaving the suspense for last."
"I see," said Jax smirking a bit.
"Are you in?" asked Marcus.
Jax stooded. "Give me the where and when and I will handle this."
Marcus and Nero stood. "We will handle this," said Marcus.
"Thank you," said Nero as he shook both Marcus's and Jax's hand.
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Tuesday, September 2nd, 1997 2:28am
Marcus and Jax sat in the dark truck outside some bar in Stockton that was crawling with cops. Nero had given both of them a photo of the cop taken during some event at Diosa. Nero also gave them the cops hang around spots. According to Nero, the cop, Eugene, was quite verbal as to where he liked getting shitfaced.
Jax was the first one to note when Eugene staggered out of the bar with a couple of buddies of his. Jax pointed his index finger to the bar entranced and both men watched as Eugene bid farewell to his friends and walked to his new model sedan.
"Whatever happened to cops being model citizens and not drinking and driving?" muttered Jax as Marcus turned on the truck to follow Eugene.
"How you want to do this?" asked Marcus as they drive a few cars away from Eugene. "Drive by?"
Jax shook his head. "Drive directly behind him. When I tell you, ram up behind him. Hard."
Marcus looked briefly at Jax and drove faster, quickly driving behind Eugene.
They drove past the very urban areas and Jax anxious waited until the perfect opportunity.
After about fifteen minutes, Jax whispered. "Now."
Marcus stepped on the accelerator and rammed into Eugene's car, making the car in front stop a few yards away from them.
Jax barely waited for Marcus to stop the truck before jumping out and running to the driver side of the sedan.
Pointing the Glock at the cop, Jax whispered, "get out of the fucking car, asshole."
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Tuesday, September 2ndt, 1997 4:12am
Jax cracked his bloody knuckles.
Marcus grabbed Eugene by his hair. "Next time you want to beat on another girl from Diosa, remember that I would shove this Glock so far up your white ass, you won't be able to shit right for the rest of you fucking life, pendejo."
Eugene spit some blood into Marcus's face. "Do you know who I am, you stupid wetback?"
"Just another dirty cop using his badge to use and abuse the fucking population. That's the way I see it," said Jax as Marcus wiped his face from Eugene's spittle. Marcus stood straight.
"You are going to regret doing that," he said dangerously low.
People have always accused Jax of being an impulsive. But some failed to note that sometimes, Jax jumped at an opportunity when presented with one.
Jax didn't wait for Marcus to react. He just took the gun from the back of his jeans and pointed it at Eugene and shot it, killing the man immediately.
A brief silence filled the abandoned warehouse.
Jax walked over to where Marcus stood and gave him the gun. "Take this and never use it on anyone else. Leave the body here and his buddies will find him soon enough. If you ever doubt my loyalty, this gun should suffice enough for you to know I am not going to fuck you over. You turn his gun to the cops and my fingerprints are all over it. I'll take the wrap for this not you. Are you still in on my plan?"
Marcus looked Jax with his ever-present stoic expression.
Marcus brought out his hand. "I guess this makes us accomplices."
Jax looked at the hand and gripped it tightly. "No…this makes us partners."
