HOUSE OF CARDS

Chapter Seven

"Alright, boys," Clay called the meeting to order as he pounded the gavel. "We've got some business to take care of but let's make this quick. It's a Friday and I think Jax, Opie, and Chibs deserve to let loose a little here. Now, a couple of things went down when you boys were gone on that run so let's bring you up to speed."

That sparked Jax's complete attention and he mashed his spent cigarette into the ashtray to his left. After three days on the road, he was tired, a little irritable, and just wanted a beer. It had been a few months since he'd been on a protection run and he'd quickly forgotten just how exhausting those runs could be.

"Let's start with the most pressing matter," Clay continued. "I got a call from Darby yesterday asking me if we'd be interested in forgoing the fight tomorrow and have a friendly poker game instead as a way to apologize for the warehouse incident a few weeks ago."

"Don't you think it's a little late for that?" Jax snorted. "What's the endgame here?"

"That's what I thought," Clay nodded as he took a long pull from his cigar.

"Apparently, Hale has been on Darby's ass with the investigation and he wants to make it clear to the PD that their beef with us is dead and buried." Tig said from his side of the Redwood.

"So what's in it for us, then?" Opie asked quietly as he ran a hand over his beard in thought.

"We get to pretend like we're all getting along and that keeps Hale out of our hair for a little longer," Bobby reasoned. "Let's not forget the fact that Captain America is always looking for a way to search and destroy—that fight at Lucky's definitely didn't help our cause but this could be a way to help turn the tide in our favor."

"Who's to say this isn't all a set-up though?" Piney's gruff voice echoed from across the table. "I don't trust those white hate bastards as far as I can throw them, which ain't sayin' much."

"I'm with Piney on this one," Jax eyed Clay carefully as he spoke.

"So we give Darby a counter-offer then," Tig offered. "Let's bring 'em to the clubhouse—our turf, our rules—they leave their weapons at the door and bring their women with them. He doesn't like it—no deal and no loss to us."

"Playing this game could be beneficial to us in the long run—no one here wants war with the Nords and if we concede with a few amendments to the agreement that makes us look good in everyone's book—some good publicity for once could go a long way." Clay said as he flicked some cigar ash. "I highly doubt Darby would be stupid enough to try anything tomorrow night, especially at the clubhouse."

If the Nords played by their rules, Jax figured, the night would most likely go off without a hitch. He felt much better now that they'd laid some ground rules and knew that although Darby was a bastard, he was still a smart bastard. With Hale on his back, Jax doubted Darby would do anything to sabotage the night, especially if they were at the clubhouse and kept their weapons at the door. Clay was right—they needed to keep up the façade of peace, especially since Hale was on high alert after his fuck-up at Lucky's. Plus, he figured Darby would drag Ava along and if there was anywhere she was safe, it was at the clubhouse.

"Next order of business," Clay grabbed the reins again and moved them along. "Our Irish contact in the States reached out to us about doing some business and he offered to let us test-drive the product before cutting the deal. For me, personally, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't deal with our brothers across the Atlantic. We gotta set the example as the mother charter and if we scratch their backs, they'll scratch ours when we need them."

"We need another way to earn," Jax nodded in agreement. "The Irish could be reliable business in the future for us."

"Agreed, brother." Opie sounded off from the other side of the table.

The vote for both actions went quickly and Jax was grateful they were almost done with church. He was suddenly struck by the realization that this poker night was going to be a hindrance to his standing plans with Ava tomorrow night but quickly shook that from his mind. He needed to focus on what was best for the club here—not on getting laid. Granted, he hadn't seen her since their meeting before he left for the run and he was itching to get her into bed again. At the very least, she'd most likely be in the clubhouse tomorrow and he'd just have to get by with that.

"Before we're done here," Clay was saying now. "I just want to remind everyone that that god-damn Taste of Charming fundraiser is tomorrow and unless you all want a size-nine stiletto heel up your ass, you'd better make sure you're there. My old lady will not hesitate to rip anyone sitting at this table a new one if you don't, myself included…"

A round of chuckles went around the table as Clay pounded the gavel to signal the end of church. When Clay left to make the call to Darby, Jax found himself sitting in a booth by the pool table with Wendy curled up in his lap. Her hands were working their way down the front of his jeans but he was too distracted to care all that much. She let out an exasperated huff and pulled a little bit harder on his hair to force him to look at her.

"What's wrong, Jax?" She cooed into his ear and he reflexively leaned away from her.

"Nothing…I'm just tired." He was really just in no mood for her shit tonight. The sad thing was, if he wanted to, he could very easily get out of the booth, head back to his dorm, and she would follow him without a single word. This whole situation was becoming pathetic on both sides and he was just about done with it—this didn't interest him at all anymore and at the moment, all he wanted to do was just crash in his bed.

With that thought, he abruptly pushed Wendy away and, despite her protests, stalked to his dorm without as much as a glance behind him. He didn't care if Wendy was following him or not—she wasn't coming with him. His bed was a sight for sore eyes and two seconds later, he was facedown on the mattress. Finally able to relax, a deep exhale left his lungs and with the party shut out to a low rumble behind his door, he felt like he could finally breathe.

Before he could stop himself, his fingers were digging into his back pocket for his prepay. He quickly flipped it open and stared at Ava's name in his contact list for at least a good two minutes. Knowing he wouldn't be able to get away tonight without raising some eyebrows, he figured he could settle for just hearing her voice…what the fuck was wrong with him? What was he doing to himself? A hand rubbed at his tired eyes and he sighed again.

When he'd played this situation with Ava out in his mind, he'd imagined it going a little differently. They would meet up every once and a while, they'd fuck, they'd leave, and then that would be it until the next time they could meet. He hadn't anticipated he would feel like this in between—fuck, he missed her…he missed everything—her laugh, her skin, her smile, her hair. The fact that their time together had to be so short just made the space in between seem that much longer.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be—this wasn't how he was supposed to be feeling right now. They'd only actually hooked up three times. That was it. He had no attachment to her and no obligation to be anything to her. And he needed to remember that—even if he had to tattoo it to his hand.

Despite his best efforts, he closed his eyes and pushed the send button. In a moment of panic, he realized that he didn't know if she was working or at Darby's house or something in between. Whatever his relationship with her was—they still had to be careful and he could've just blown that all completely by carelessly calling for no real reason.

A few rings later, she answered. "Hello?"

His heart was thundering in his chest and he suddenly couldn't remember why he was even calling her in the first place.

"Hey, Ava," he started hesitantly.

"Hi, Jax..."her voice seemed surprised but there was a touch of happiness there that pushed him to continue and not just hang up. "You just get back?"

"A few hours ago, yeah…"

There was a short pause and he could tell she was waiting for him to say something but for the life of him, he couldn't come up with anything.

"So…" she started again. "Is everything alright, Jax? You sound kinda off."

"I'm just exhausted," he replied quickly. "The last three days took a lot out of me, actually."

"Okay, so, no disasters? Everything still in one piece?"

"I got home safe and sound…thanks for asking," he grinned into the phone. "But if you're that concerned, you're more than welcome to investigate for yourself, darlin'."

"Wow," she laughed. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed me a little bit, huh?"

If only she knew just how right she was…

"Well," he recovered, probably a little too quickly. "It's not like you're easy to miss…speaking of which, I think we might have to reschedule for tomorrow."

"Why's that?"

"There's no fight tomorrow night—the Nords are gonna be at the clubhouse for poker—"

"What?" She laughed and he couldn't help but agree. The whole thing sounded completely ridiculous and he hadn't even spoken the words out loud yet.

"Yeah, I know…apparently, your uncle is trying to keep up peaceful appearances so we're hosting them at the clubhouse. I'm assumin' you're gonna be dragged along for the party too and—"

"There's no way either of us will be able to get away without anyone noticing." She finished for him with a sigh.

"I wish it didn't have to be that way but better safe than sorry, right?" He was trying to joke—make light of the situation—but it didn't seem that funny.

"You're right," she replied softly. "When do you think you'll be able to get away again?"

He was glad she wasn't in the room with him right now because a huge, shit-eating grin spread across his face. "Sunday? I can probably get away for awhile then—the clubhouse is pretty dead on Sunday nights."

"That sounds good to me."

"So I'll see you tomorrow night then?" He was trying not to sound over-eager but was having a hard time keeping a lid on it.

"Are you going to be at that Taste of Charming thing tomorrow? Allie and I have to set up a booth there for my uncle so I'll be there…"

"Yeah, definitely," he wanted to kick himself at how stupid he must sound to her right now. What was he, fifteen? Talking to a girl on the phone for the first time? He wasn't stupid; he was fucking pathetic.

"I take it you'll be there," she laughed.

"Yeah, darlin', I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll sneak a hot dog or two from you when my mom's not looking—she'll fuckin' castrate me if she sees me buying food from another booth other than hers."

"Well, wouldn't want that, now would we? I'm not making a reservation on Sunday night just for the conversation with you."

He had to shake his head at the dig—he never knew what was going to come out of her mouth next and he loved that about her. It was just one more thing to look forward to and one more thing to miss about her when she was gone.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Jax. See you tomorrow. Thanks for calling…you know, to let me know what you were alright."

"Anytime, darlin'," he smiled and then hit the end button with a sigh.

This was the part he hated—the part where he had to say good-bye to her. To make matters worse, he wasn't even sure how to feel about seeing her tomorrow at the fundraiser or the clubhouse. In both situations, he had to pretend like she was nothing more than a bartender at a bar he technically wasn't even supposed to go to anymore. But he had to keep playing that role—they hadn't even been playing at it for very long and he was already struggling with the lines. He had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be very trying on every possible level.

"Jesus Christ, Allie, it doesn't have to be perfect!" Ava grunted from her end of the booth.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Allie yelled back to her from the other end and abruptly tossed the rest of the hot dogs buns haphazardly on the platter, effectively ruining her meticulous work. "I just want it to look good…"

"I know, I know but we've got, like, no time before everyone gets in here and we're not even close to being ready to serve anything."

"Well, I guess we're just gonna have to work with what we got…not like my dad helped at all." Allie scowled as she lifted the lid on the hot dog pot and gave it a quick stir.

Ava sighed and nodded exasperatedly. Her uncle had sprung this on them only two days before and while it really shouldn't have been a surprise, she was still thrown by his inability to understand that they needed more than two days to pull this off. He was expecting some grand show like her aunt used to do but that just wasn't going to happen. Even if they had more time, there would be no topping the organization Aunt Anna had nailed down to a 't'.

"I guess we've got something to show for ourselves…it's not much but it's something," Ava allowed finally as she surveyed their spread. It really wasn't much—just some hot dogs, soda, and cookies they'd managed to whip up the night before. At this point, she really didn't see them making much money but she figured that was the least of her uncle's worries. It was just all about putting on the show, about going through the motions to look like the respectable, God-fearing, and community-minded man that he definitely wasn't.

"So is he coming today or what?" Ava asked curiously.

Allie exhaled softly and cast a forlorn look into the distance. "He said he was…but I don't know; he still might not."

"Oh, come on," Ava reassured her. "That guy is freakin' crazy about you."

"You think so?"

"Wow…"

Allie blew out a breath and tucked some hair behind her ear with a huff. "I know, I know…I think I'm starting to sound like you…I'm not very happy about that."

Ava responded by tossing a hot dog bun in her cousin's direction. "Bitch!"

In their distracted, albeit brief, argument, neither noticed the small group of people that were crowding up to their booth. When Ava looked back out into the school's parking lot, her breath caught in her throat when she realized that not only was Jax swaggering his way up to them, but Opie, a short brunette woman, and two small children were in tow behind him. Jax was barely concealing the cocky smirk on his face and it was difficult not to physically react to the image in front of her.

"How's it goin', ladies?" Jax called out good-naturedly to them as the group approached. "Figured we'd be good neighbors and stop over to say hello. Get some of these cookies that look so good…"

"Ava made them last night," Allie blurted out, prompting Ava to shoot her a stern, hard look.

Jax's eyebrows rose. "Well, in that case, I guess I better take two then."

The woman standing next to Opie just rolled her eyes and reached out her hand towards Ava. "Don't pay any attention to him; he's like this all the time. I'm Donna, Opie's wife and these are my kids, Ellie and Kenny. It's nice to finally meet you."

All formality aside, the warm welcoming in this woman's eyes was a relief. It was nice to be seen as a person by a resident of Charming instead of irrevocably connected to the abhorring actions of her uncle. The people in this town were, at least, somewhat understanding when it came to Samcro's not-so-legal dealings because Samcro also worked at keeping the bad guys, like the Nords, at bay. But given that Samcro and the Nords were constantly clashing, most people were probably right to keep their distance from anyone associated with either 'organization' anyway. Either way, it was nice to see that some things were just obsolete details to certain people. With that thought, she eagerly extended her hand to shake Donna's.

"Oh shit, Ava," Allie cried out suddenly, whipping around with wild eyes. "He's here!"

"Who's here?" She frowned. For a brief moment, she thought her cousin was referring to good ol' Uncle Ernie but when her gaze travelled in the direction where Allie was discreetly pointing, her face broke out into a wide grin. Tyler was striding up to them with his hands shoved sheepishly in his pockets, his eyes darting around nervously as he approached their booth. When he realized who was currently standing in front of their booth—the domineering, albeit curious, stares of Jax Teller and Opie Winston—he almost skidded to a complete stop.

"Hi, Tyler," Ava grinned knowingly and waved him over despite their mixed company. "Nice to see you again."

"Yeah, hey, Ava—thanks for letting me come over again the other night…that was really cool," Tyler replied slowly, eyeing Jax and Opie carefully.

Ava smiled brightly, trying not to pay any unnecessary attention to the fact that Jax's eyes immediately flew to her. "No problem."

From an outsider's vantage point, the scene had to have looked absolutely ridiculous. Allie was doing her best to keep her excitement under wraps but was clearly having a hard time containing her elation at Tyler's appearance…like there'd ever been any doubt that he was going to show up. Tyler looked like he was about to throw up—from under the weight of Jax's wary stare or from being so close to Allie, Ava wasn't completely sure. Opie and Donna were just watching the exchange curiously. It was all a little too much.

Deciding to put everyone out of their misery, Ava quickly gestured towards the small group in front of her. "Tyler, I'm sure you know Jax Teller and Opie and Donna Winston…"

Tyler shifted uncomfortably as Jax firmly shook his hand with a nod and then reached over to take Opie and Donna's hand as well. She hadn't necessarily meant to put the kid on the spot like that but she had to admit…it was kinda fun watching him squirm.

"Um…Ava?" Allie asked quietly and then gestured with her head towards the back end of their booth. Ava quickly scanned the rest of the parking lot on lookout for her uncle and when she didn't see him, nodded back to her cousin.

"Go ahead—you're in the clear for now." She couldn't suppress the sly smirk that crossed over her face when Allie and Tyler's eyes consecutively lit up and then they scampered behind the tarp to slid out to a place they could talk.

"Kids…" Donna laughed, shaking her head at the display. "I'm not looking forward to when Ellie gets to be that age…"

"It's gonna be a nightmare for you and Ope, that's for sure..." Jax added with a smirk.

"That was really nice of you though, Ava…to cover for them like that." Donna went on quietly.

She just shrugged, willing her eyes to stay away from Jax's. "My uncle isn't big on letting her date and if the circumstances were different, I wouldn't be able to say much but since…well, I don't see the harm in letting her have some fun every once and awhile."

Unable to stop herself, her gaze slowly and discreetly slid over to Jax and she had to restrain any sort of physical reaction to him. She hadn't expected it to be this difficult…being so close yet so far apart. They had to act like they hardly knew each other and while, in reality, they hadn't really known each other that long, the intimacy…and the connection…was becoming increasingly difficult to fight against. The way he was watching her now—his blue eyes scorching right through her—wasn't making it any easier. She wondered fleetingly if all this effort at duplicity was counterproductive…was she being too stand-offish? Would Opie and Donna both be able to just see right through this little act? She supposed there was no point in stressing out about this now, especially when they were still standing right in front of her.

The little girl, Ellie, with her chubby cheeks and bouncing blonde curls, was tugging on both Jax and Opie's shirts and Ava's heart flipped over when Jax smiled down at the little girl and ruffled her hair.

"Come on," Ellie pleaded. "Can't we play some games now? You promised you'd do the egg toss with me, Uncle Jax!"

"Alright, alright..." Jax grinned down at her. "Chill out, little darlin'—let's do this thing then."

He jutted out his elbow and the little girl proudly stuck her arm through it. As they headed down the parking lot towards the designated game area, Jax turned back to them and winked playfully at Donna before waving briefly to Ava. She had to take a deep breath to regain her bearings. Seeing him like this, out in town, acting like just another ordinary citizen and not some badass biker outlaw was a little unnerving—especially since they had an audience.

"Always the charmer," Donna muttered under her breath with another shake of her head.

"We should probably get back," Opie nodded over to her and extended his hand again for her to shake. "It was nice seein' you again, Ava."

He started steering Donna back towards Samcro's booth and Donna waved back to her, calling out: "Nice meeting you, Ava!" before disappearing into the mounting crowd.

After that, she was almost grateful for the peace and quiet, next to the customers that showed up every once and awhile to their booth. Samcro's booth was clearly more appealing to the attendees but Ava knew not to take that as a slight. Gemma Teller-Morrow probably had gold-plated hot dogs over there or something. No competing with that. Even so, with Allie safely tucked away from sight—mainly to sneak in a few private moments with Tyler—it was much easier for her to sit back and observe Jax without much worry about being seen. Everyone else around her was preoccupied so she carefully allowed her gaze to drift over to the activities' station every once and awhile.

She had to bit her lip to keep her smile from spreading too broadly across her face. Jax and Ellie were playfully tossing the egg back and forth about ten yards away from her and she almost laughed out loud when Ellie purposefully tossed it a little too hard so Jax would accidentally crush the egg in his hands. He yelped in surprise and then made an elaborate show of chasing after Ellie, almost Frankenstein-like, with the egg still all over his hands. It was cute but it was also a scene that she hadn't been prepared to see.

She was still watching, maybe a little too closely, when Jax rejoined the Samcro group across the parking lot. Her heart just about leapt into her throat when that bleached blonde bitch she recognized from a few weeks ago wrapped her arms around Jax's neck and pulled him close to her. She waited for Jax to respond, to put his arms around her too, grab her ass, kiss her, something but that never happened. Instead, his arms hung limply at his sides like he didn't know what to do. Ava watched as Jax turned his head back to the booth, probably to glance at his mother, who was watching the scene play out in from her with a sour expression. It was clear Gemma didn't care for this woman—what was her name? Wendy?—anymore than she did.

This was just one more thing she hadn't planned on…the cold, ugly hand of the green-eyed monster. There was no legitimate reason for her to be even remotely jealous here. Jax was a free man. They had no commitment or attachments to each other. He could do whatever he wanted and so could she. Then why was it so hard to watch this? Even if Jax wasn't playing along, why did she want to rip Wendy's hands off?

All of this was her own fault. She had no one to blame but herself for this one—she and Jax had only slept together three times. Sure, those three times had been close to explosive and would forever be seared into her memory, but he wasn't her boyfriend. He couldn't be and that was the point. They were both free to do whatever and whomever they wanted. But if that was the case, why was she unable to tear her eyes away?

Ernest Darby sat back in his easy chair as he took a long pull from the ice cold beer in his hand. At 52, the years hadn't necessarily been kind to him and he certainly hadn't helped matters by smoking, drinking, and eating anything he felt like. But those kinds of concerns, such trivial concerns, were of little consequence. He was all about the excess—whatever he wanted, he wanted all of it and he rarely settled for less. So when he had talked his stubborn, too-smart-for-her-own-good niece into moving back to Charming, he had expected it to go a certain way. She would abide by his rules, he would pay her rent, Miles would finally get the woman he'd been itching for, and everyone would happy.

It hadn't occurred to him that his niece had had other plans. She was being a fucking bitch and he was sick and tired of her holier-than-thou attitude. She had absolutely zero right to show up to any of his Nord functions with that sort of non-compliant attitude. She was family which, by all rights, meant she had to do what he said. He was very aware of the fact that she would not be pleased when he told her Miles would be escorting her to Samcro's clubhouse later that evening. He highly anticipated some sort of clever excuse but there would be no exemptions tonight. She was going to the clubhouse whether she liked it or not and she would cooperate.

There was too much riding on this night for him to be worrying about her performance anyways.

Samcro was weak. More accurately, Clay was weak. He'd proved that the moment he refused to retaliate for the warehouse incident. Hell, Clay Morrow was nothing more than a figurehead at this point. For years, he'd watched Clay and his Samcro assholes get richer and richer while he seemed to just get poorer and poorer. It wasn't like he was destitute by any means but the declining economy hadn't seemed to touch Samcro and all their 'businesses' the way it had the Nords. It was all Darby could do to just make the mortgage payments on his house—Anna's life insurance was only going to take him so far. It wasn't near enough for retirement and he still had a teenager to get rid of, who was most likely going to be asking for a handout when she got to college.

Now was the time to strike. With Clay getting older and weaker by the day, it was anyone's guess as to how long the bastard could realistically stay at the head of Samcro's table and their VP was still too young and inexperienced to really know to influence. So when Clay failed to take his bait, he took it as a sign—it was time to start moving their product out of the cooking house and finally put it in the hands of waiting customers. There was a market for meth in Charming, he was sure of it. One trip to The Hairy Dog and he could sell an entire batch if he felt like it—there were plenty of takers if he was finally giving.

Besides, their investors were starting to get impatient and he never liked to keep the suits waiting. Even if they were brethren, they were still rich bastards and he hated that he had to take money from up the ranks of the movement to get this business finally up and running. It had been a long time coming—Clay was nothing but hot air and empty threats.

He couldn't wait any longer which was exactly why this night was so important to his plans. Samcro needed to feel safe; each and every single one of them needed to believe that the warehouse was an isolated incident—that it wouldn't happen again. There would be no cause for concern or any unnecessary eyes on any of his boys when the time came to finally begin moving the Nord product—which was about to be any day now if all went down as planned. It didn't matter that any Samcro knowledge of this would result in all-out war. The Nords—he especially—needed the money and it was an easy risk to take when push came to shove.

Besides, he thought with a smirk, it wasn't like Samcro could really do anything about it anyways. They were weak and they'd always been weak. It was time he capitalized on that weakness.

A/N-Sorry for the extremely long wait for this. Despite the wait, I hope you liked it. I know it didn't seem like a lot was really happening but in a lot of ways, it's really the calm before the storm...

Please let me know what you thought and I promise I'll have the next chapter up soon! R/R!