"This isn't a negotiation," Jax said firmly, "You give us the girl back, and I promise you a painless death."
Abel dropped his elbows onto the table and buried his face into his hands, god what the hell had he gotten into it? It was like someone had picked him up and dropped him into an alternate universe. A universe where his dad was either a murderer or obviously not above becoming one, where he was contemplating becoming a murderer himself, and his girlfriend was god knows where.
And god what the fuck was with this stupid reaper everywhere? And the gavel? And the fucking leather vest? It was like Jax was a badly dressed boy band member with what he was assuming was violent tendencies.
He almost didn't want to know how Tara dressed, if she was anything like her husband, she probably dressed like a fucking clown, unless she was like the other woman surrounding the repair shop, then his mother was just a whore, and then what the hell was he supposed to do with that?
Because then he would have being a whore in his blood, which he guessed he would rather be, then a leather vest wearing boy band member.
Or he could just be both.
"Tara's not a whore is she?"
"What?" Jax turned to look at him the picture of confusion and disbelief.
"Ignore me," Abel shook his head, he needed to get away from Jax, the man turned him into a twelve year old, who had absolutely no filter, was completely insane, and needed other people to solve his problems, he needed to get Cassidy, and he needed to get the hell away from Jax, otherwise he was pretty sure he was going to start spilling his life story to this man.
And while he didn't think Jax would care all that much that he was the one who had hotwired Matthew Kasen's car and then ran it into a tree just for the hell of it, and because he really freaking didn't like that kid, he wasn't sure how Jax would feel about the fact that he had spent a night in jail for it, considering he was so completely high that night.
But then again, judging by the mug shots plastered across the wall of the clubhouse, jail time seemed to be something revered in this – well whatever this shit was. Drugs however, he wasn't too sure about how well that would go over.
His dad hadn't given a shit, he was on a business trip like usual, and had simply made sure that he had the charges dropped, nobody ever found out he was high that night, and the bail had been posted. Even his mom didn't know he had been high that night.
"There's no need to trouble your mom with this, son. She doesn't need to know about the drugs." He had told Abel.
Definitely not the most Catholic thing his dad done, and his parents were hardcore Catholics.
God, that must have been the lowest point in his life, he was so sure that everything had gone to hell, that when Nick had handed him the crank, he had thought what the fuck, so he ignored Cassidy's pleas, he more than ignored them – he would never forgive himself for what he did to her that night – but that was the low.
It was so funny to think about how that was the worst night of his life, even now that she had been taken, that was still the worst night of his life.
What he had done to her, what he had done to himself, and all because he had thought his career was over, all because he thought he would never play soccer again.
It had all started with that single thought, that he would never play soccer again, and truly, that was all he had going for him, he wasn't all that smart, he wasn't all that talented, the only thing he was really good at was playing soccer.
And then he got better, and he could play again, and he made his high school soccer team national champions, he was already being recruited for college teams, he had his whole life figured out, everything was perfect, or as perfect as Abel's life could be, and now, now everything was all screwed to hell.
Up till yesterday the worst thing that had ever happened to him was getting into that accident, that tore his ACL, and three ligaments, and they were so completely sure his soccer career was over, right when it had barely begun.
And now, he could top that, now he had a set of biological parents who were as outlaw as his adoptive parents were Catholic, a girlfriend who was at the mercy of some corrupt Priest, and he was doing absolutely fucking nothing.
"Sorry about that Jackson, I had some business to take care of, now where were we, oh yes, we were discovering SAMCRO's future with the IRA, in exchange for the possibility of the girl having a future."
Oh Father, you have a way with words.
"No," Jax snapped, "We were talking about the way you were going to die, and how you were going to let the girl go."
Abel resisted the urge to grab the phone and broker the deal himself, not that he had anything to offer, but he had to be able to do something better than what Jax was doing. They were just going in the same circle, the Priest subtly threatening Cassidy's life, and Jax not so subtly threatening the Priest's life.
It was all just a cycle of neither side willing to compromise.
Didn't they know that the only way to win the game was to make a few sacrifices? In soccer, sometimes it was safer to kick the ball out of bounds then to risk the other team getting the goal. It was so obvious that the same principal applied here, Jax needed to sacrifice the goal for his team, so Father Kellan wouldn't truly score the goal for his team either.
The closer they got to Cassidy, the more the Priest lost.
"First part of this exchange, you're going to perform a gun run, simple transaction between the IRA and the Niners. We'll get you the gun shipment – same method as we used to – and you sell it to the Niners, you can even keep the profits."
Gun running? So maybe Jax wouldn't give a shit about Abel's little, one time, experiment with crank.
"No way," Jax shook his head, "The club doesn't do that shit anymore, and even if I were to, we have to vote that in. We got out, we make our earnings legit, you want to sell to the Niners be my guest, you don't need a middle man for that."
"You aren't being very accommodating Jackson, I have to say, your son and his ma were much more accommodating than you. The Lord gave them sense he didn't bless you with."
Abel rolled his eyes, he was getting really tired of hearing this man preach about God, and he had only heard him once. He was holding an innocent girl hostage, and yet he prided himself on being a man of God.
Abel wasn't a hardcore Catholic like his parents, he didn't believe in all the things that they believed in, but he had been forced to go to church every Sunday for his entire life, he had done confession, gone on church retreats, hell he had even gotten confirmed.
He didn't care much for religious bullshit, he didn't spend much of his time actually paying attention in church, he couldn't really tell you the first thing about being a Catholic, but what he did know was that Father Kellan was no man of God.
"Yeah well it's about time you gave my son his girlfriend back."
The Priest sighed, "It seems you're going to need some convincing. Tell me Jackson, have you ever been shot in the knee?"
Abel turned his head sharply in the direction of Jax and the phone, he didn't like where this conversation was going at all. Come on Jax, just kick the fucking ball out of bounds, make the sacrifice.
"If you hurt that girl-"
"I assure you it's very painful, in fact it's so painful that it makes one wish they were dead, so Jackson, I'd just like for you to know that you are the sole cause of the pain that this poor girl will be feeling."
"No!" Abel yelled his hands slamming onto the table, his chair flying backwards hitting the wall, as the same time as a piercing scream that he had never heard before, yet somehow recognized, echoed throughout the walls of the room, "Cassidy!"
"Make the deal," Father Kellan spoke softly, "Make the deal and she'll get the medical attention she needs. Don't do it, and she bleeds out after suffering for an extended period of time. It's your choice Jackson, do the gun run, or condemn her to an excruciating death."
The line went dead, and then before Abel really realized what he was doing, he was striding across the room, and slamming his fist into Jax's face. He ignored the yelling and the guns, and he punched at any of the guys who came at him, trying to pull him off of Jax, they were all the same to him.
They had all gone and done this to him, they had done this to Cassidy, and he would damned if they didn't do whatever it takes to get her back.
"ABEL STOP IT!"
The voice made him freeze as if it was Cassidy screaming at him to do so, he recognized the voice, it felt like when you know you have something to say, but you just can't seem to remember what it is. It was exactly like that, he knew the voice, he just couldn't remember from where.
She was exactly how she looked like in his dreams. Long soft brown hair, gentle green eyes, and a careful yet kind look on her face. She was the woman who danced in and out his dreams, someone he had crazily longed to be a real person, and now that she was standing there – now that it was so clearly obvious who she was – he wasn't surprised to realize, he didn't want to see her at all.
"Do the gun run," Abel said quietly his eyes never leaving hers, "You do whatever the hell he wants, or I'm going to start pulling bullets in people's kneecaps."
She nodded and held out her hands, "Let me clean you up."
"I'm fine."
"Go," Jax said in the same quiet tone he was using, "Go with Tara, get cleaned up. I'll handle the gun run, I'll make it happen."
Abel turned to look at Jax and shook his head, "Do you honestly think I trust you?"
"No," Jax shook his head taking a step forward, "And I have given you every reason not to you, but you're going to have to."
"This is your fault."
Jax took another step forward despite the fact that he looked like he had just gotten punched in the face – figuratively – despite the fact that Abel had just done that literally. He knew as well as Abel did that this was his fault.
"I know, but I'm telling you that I will handle it," Jax said, "I will fix this, and you can come back in here, sit in while I do that, after you get yourself cleaned up."
"I'm fine." He insisted.
Jax raised his eyebrows before speaking in a stern tone, "Abel, get yourself cleaned up, right now. You want to beat on me, that's fine, you want to be pissed off, that's fine, you have the right to be. But you will do as you're told, when you are told. Am I understood?"
Abel was hit with the urge to deck him again. Who the hell did Jax think he was? He didn't just get to tell him what to do, act like he was his dad, Abel already had one of his own, so maybe he was slightly absent, and didn't give a shit about what Abel did, but that didn't change the fact that he already had a dad, one that wasn't Jax.
He wasn't Jax's kid, he hadn't been for a very long time, and he didn't get to tell him what to do.
His head was perfectly clear about that, except there was some other part of him, that he couldn't quite pinpoint, that was feeling the need to do what Jax told him to. It was that same feeling that he got when Jax first looked at him, and it felt like he already knew his entire life story.
"Yes sir." Abel's tone was mocking and condescending and rude, and despite how teenager it was of him, he really freaking hoped that it pissed Jax off, and then he turned to Tara, and gave her a smirk he had perfected a long time before. "So I guess you aren't a whore after all, then."
Abel made have felt the need to do what Jax told him, but that didn't mean he was any less pissed off at him.