Jax twisted and turned the brown bottle in his hands, watching the carbonated liquid inside slosh around. It was supposed to make him feel fuzzy enough to forget the awfulness of the day, but it was only making him feel worse. It went down like hot lava and churned in his belly.

"If Gemma sees you drinking that, she's going to kick your ass," Opie warned, taking a seat next to Jax at their favorite table in the SAMCRO clubhouse.

It had been three hours since Tara left Jax standing in the middle of the hall, accused of corrupting and ruining her. His nerves were still raw, and he had no idea what to do about the unfamiliar ache in his chest that her absence brought.

They'd spent nearly every waking minute together for the past three months, and now he didn't know when he would see her again. She was suspended for a week, likely grounded for longer. And after that- who knew if she would even want to see Jax again.

Donna's accusation buzzed in his head like a swarm of angry bees, "What have you done to her?" And Sean Knowles' harsh words twisted in his gut, "Stay away from my daughter!" How had things gotten so fucked up? And how the hell had Jax not even noticed? All he'd been trying to do was make Tara happy, to love her. But at what cost?

He often thought about how different Tara was from the perception he'd had of her his entire life. But now he had to wonder- how much of that was genuine, and how much of it was her playing a part, trying to be what she thought an MC girlfriend should be? The thought made him sick to his stomach.

He raised a defiant eyebrow at Opie as he took another swig of beer, regretting it instantly. He was already on his third, and it was nowhere close to doing its job. Maybe some wounds were too deep to be healed by alcohol.

"You talked to Tara yet?" Opie asked.

Jax shook his head. "Nah, man. It's done."

"What the hell you mean it's done?"

"Her dad, bro. Told me to stay away from her." He took another drink, finally beginning to feel the dullness in his head he'd been waiting for.

"Who gives a fuck what that old drunk thinks? Tara's your girl, bro. She's good for you."

"But am I good for her?" Jax let the words linger, let them sink in. He already knew the answer to that question. And so did Opie.

"That's bullshit," Opie finally said. But he and Jax both knew it wasn't.

"So, where's Donna?" Jax changed the subject. If he was going to begin the task of getting over Tara, he had to start by not talking about her.

"Ah, we had a fight." Opie waved his hand nonchalantly, seeming to want to dismiss the idea of Donna altogether. Jax chuckled. Opie and Donna fought almost as much as they fucked. It was always either one extreme or the other with them. "She's being such a bitch lately!"

"She's always a bitch, dude," Jax reminded him.

Opie laughed. "Yeah, well, worse than normal. I don't know what the fuck her problem is." Jax set his beer down on the table and pushed it toward Opie. Normally, Opie wouldn't dare be so brazen with his father around. But his nerves were shot. He took a drink and smiled.

The door to the clubhouse opened, letting in a burst of sunshine. Jax squinted as he watched two shadowy figures make their way toward him- Shauna, the crow-eater who was messing around with Tig, and her cousin Wendy, the girl whose face Tara had maimed earlier in the day.

"Jax!" Shauna's voice was terse. "What the hell happened today? Look at my cousin's face!" Wendy had a deep purple bruise under her left eye, a scrape on her right cheek, and her nose looked a little askew.

"Ouch," Opie chuckled, taking in the sight of her.

"Why don't you ask your cousin what happened?" Jax said. "She was there." The last thing Jax needed was to relive what went down between Tara and Wendy. He'd been trying all day to forget it.

"Well you tell that little skank of yours that I'm gonna find her, and I'm gonna beat the shit out of her," Shauna threatened, tossing her teased brown hair over her shoulder. Jax flew out of his seat, stopping just inches from Shauna's face.

"Try it," he warned. "You lay one finger on Tara and I will fucking end you. You feel me, whore?" Shauna's eyes widened. It wasn't often that Jax let the rage monster inside him loose, but when he did, it terrified people. Good. That would be an important weapon to have once he became an official member of the club. "Now get the fuck outta here."

Shauna retreated, walking backwards so as not to turn her back to Jax, afraid of what he might do. "Come on, Wendy."

Wendy shook her head. "I need to talk to Jax," she said quietly. "I'm sorry about my cousin, she's a little nuts. I don't want to hurt your girl. I really did just come here to talk to you. Think we can go somewhere?" Jax's first instinct was to tell her to fuck off, but considering she'd just taken a beating because of him, he felt a slight sense of obligation.

He nodded. "Five minutes."

He led Wendy down the hall to the small apartment attached to the back of the clubhouse, the one members used when they needed to sleep off a bender, or they were fighting with or cheating on their old ladies. The room was dusty, dark, and reeked of booze and sex. Jax sat down on the bed, trying not to think of how much bacteria was swimming on those blankets.

"Talk," he said. Wendy took a careful seat beside him.

"I just…I wanted to apologize. For today. I wasn't trying to cause any trouble, you know. I'm sorry if I did." Jax didn't know her well enough to know if she was being genuine, but he decided to take her at her word.

"It wasn't your fault," he admitted. It really wasn't. "Tara just…overreacted."

"I'll say." Wendy chuckled a bit. Jax tried not to smile. "So that's your girl?"

Jax shook his head. "I don't know what she is anymore."

"Oh. Well if you're lookin' for an upgrade…" Wendy let her sentence trail off as she placed her hand in the middle of Jax's thigh. Jax turned to look at her. Her brown eyes were sparkling with desire. Aside from her injuries, she was sort of beautiful- long, blonde hair; delicate, angular features; tight little body. She was exactly the type of girl Jax would have gone for, before Tara. Maybe she was the type of girl he needed to go back to now.

Jax allowed the alcohol in his blood to work its magic- to cloud his judgment and block out the voice in his head screaming at him to stop- Tara's voice. He leaned in closer to Wendy, until their noses were touching. She let out a quiet sigh, bringing one hand up to Jax's face. He closed his eyes and kissed her, allowing her tongue to coax his into compliance. He slid his hand up her shirt and squeezed her breast, more of a handful than he'd become used to.

It would be so easy for him to just take her right there. She would give herself to him willingly, he knew that. He could fuck her, release all of his pent up emotions into her, then go on with his life and never think of her again. Maybe that was exactly what he needed.

But then Wendy bit his lower lip, the way Tara so often did, and he froze. Tara. Her laugh, her smile, the way her skin felt on his. Her hair, falling in her face as she helped Jax work on his bike; the way her eyes were always so full of trust and love. Oh God. He retreated from Wendy as if she'd grown a second head, leaving her half laying, half sitting on the bed, her legs spread wide, lipstick smeared all over her face, her eyes wild. She was nothing more than a sad consolation prize, one that he wanted nothing to do with.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, wiping her cheap lipstick from his mouth. "I can't." He opened the door and stumbled out of the room.

Jax was sitting at a picnic table outside the clubhouse when Shauna and Wendy stormed out. Shauna glared at him, but Wendy's eyes were fixed on the ground. He almost felt bad for her. What a shitty day she'd had. Opie said nothing, just shook his head at Jax, an amused smirk on his face.

Jax took a long drag from the cigarette he was holding, then passed it to Opie. His head was spinning, and it wasn't because of the beer. Unfortunately, he was stone cold sober. What the hell was he going to do about Tara? Should he even try to talk to her, or would it be best just to let her go? Could he even do that?

A motorcycle roared into the parking lot, snapping Jax out of his wallowing. He recognized Clay's bike at once, all sparkling chrome and sleek black. What he didn't see was that there was someone on his bike with him. Clay parked the bike and climbed off, Gemma Teller following his lead.

"Holy shit," Opie muttered, eyeing Jax wearily. Gemma linked her hand through Clay's, the two of them approaching Jax and Opie with smiles. They looked light, happy, not like two people who were about to reveal their sordid affair to the world.

"Jax, honey, I'm glad you're here. We need to talk to you." We? Since when were Clay and Gemma a "we?"

"Not now, Mom," Jax cautioned.

"Don't sass your mother," Clay said, his voice stern and way too fatherly. Jax stood up, his jaw clenched. He wanted to punch Clay dead in his face, to take out all of his frustration on the man who was trying to replace his father- both in the club, and in his life.

"Honey," Gemma said softly, patting Clay's chest. Jax glared at her accusingly. "Jackson, we have some good news." Jax planted his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're getting married!" Gemma shoved her left hand into his face, displaying an impressive diamond that adorned her ring finger. When had she even stopped wearing her wedding ring? And when had she decided that it was okay to go from "just friends" to fiancées? And how the hell did she expect Jax to react to that?

Opie drew in a sharp breath, rising to Jax's side. He could sense him about to explode. Instead, Jax laughed, shaking his head.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he sneered. His mother looked surprised, like she actually expected him to be happy for her. Jax pushed past Clay and headed for his bike. He had to get the hell out of there.

"Hey!" Clay yelled.

"Just let him go," Gemma said, defeated.

Jax sped through the hills, much faster than he should, trying to shed his pain. Everything was changing, and not in a good way. Tara was gone. Clay was marrying his mother. And he was powerless to do anything about any of it. He wanted to disappear. And maybe he should. He had a couple hundred bucks in his wallet. He could spend fifty bucks on gas, drive as far as that would take him, then spend the rest on a cheap motel room and food. Maybe some time away was what he needed.

He pulled into the first gas station he came to and parked his bike in front of the closest pump to the road. He sat there for a moment, trying to make up his mind. Did he really want to do this? Yes, yes, he did. As he reached for his wallet, his pager went off. He glanced at it. 911. Tara. 911 was their emergency code- it meant "Stop whatever you're doing and come find me. I need you."

Jax sighed. She needed him. And he needed her. Or at the very least, he needed closure.

Jax parked his bike around the corner from Tara's house, not wanting Sean to hear it and come after him. He crept through the side yard, to Tara's window, hoping he would find her there. His entire body relaxed when he saw her, sitting in her window, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail, her eyes thoughtful. Her split lip was barely noticeable, just a tiny crack in her perfect, porcelain face. Tara was his oxygen. He needed her to breathe. He knew that now, as the weight he'd been carrying lifted from his chest.

She smiled when she saw him, her eyes filling with tears. The window was already open, so she reached out her arms to him and he helped her down. She squeezed Jax tight, breathing in the scent of him. He hugged her back, trying to shake the guilt of his earlier indiscretion with Wendy. How could he betray her like that?

"Jax," she breathed. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. I don't know what happened to me." She kissed his neck and his face, her body pleading for his forgiveness.

"It's not your fault," he told her. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't Wendy's fault. It was all his fault. And he had to be the one to fix it.

"Baby, please don't be mad at me," she whispered, hooking her bruised hands through his belt loops and pulling his waist into hers.

"I'm not mad. But Tara-" he paused and let out a long breath, unsure if he could go through with it. He'd resigned himself to breaking his own heart, but he didn't know if he could break hers. This would be easier if she was mad at him. She should be mad at him.

"What is it?" she asked, her brow furrowed. She could see the tension in his face. "If it's about my dad, I'm sorry for what he said. And I'm sorry I didn't tell him to shove it, I was just so freaked out. I've never been in a fight before."

Jax took Tara's hands in his. "Tara, your dad was right." His words were quiet, his voice thick with emotion.

"What? No. No, he wasn't." Tara shook her head.

"He was." Jax kept his tone even, hoping his voice wouldn't break. "I'm no good for you, and it's selfish for me to keep bringing you down. You were a straight A student with perfect attendance, and now you're skipping school, failing classes, getting in cat fights. It's my fault, and I'm sorry."

"Jax…" Tara searched his eyes, tears filling her own.

"You're gonna be a doctor, Tara. Not just some old lady. It was wrong for me to pull you away from that. You need to get back to it. Focus on school, on your goals."

"That's stupid," Tara said, dismissing his words. "I can be with you and still have a life."

"No. You can't. How many old ladies have you seen that do anything other than hang out at the clubhouse all day? I don't want that for you. I'm goin' nowhere Tara, but you- you can get out of this shithole town. Get your grades back up. Get your scholarship. Go to college on the coast somewhere. Live the life you've always wanted."

"Jax, the life I want is with you, don't-" She reached for him, but he pulled away. He couldn't give in, couldn't change his mind. Not now. No matter how much it hurt him, or her, he was speaking the truth. He had to stop thinking about himself and start thinking about Tara, and what was best for her.

"I'm sorry, Tara," he said. "It has to be over between us. We're too different. It can't work." Tara clutched at her chest, as if she was physically trying to hold her heart together, to keep it from ripping in two. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks as she let out short, tiny sobs. Jax kissed her on the forehead, allowing his lips to linger on her skin for longer than he intended, and then walked away. He should have felt lighter. He was doing the right thing. He'd said everything he came to say. Well, except for the one thing that would have changed everything. "I love you," he whispered, quietly enough that she couldn't hear him.