Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy
Except for the small setback that was having the ATF set up shop in their collective rectums almost five years ago, the Club had enjoyed relative peace and prosperity. The Feds' attempts to link the Sons to gun-running and the Real IRA had gone up in smoke, much like Kyle Hobart had disappeared off the face of the earth. Life in Charming had quieted down considerably after leads into the disappearance of the former-member-turned-rat ran cold. The ATF had no choice but to cut their losses, pull up stakes, and retreat back into their hole. Business with the Irish had resumed its normal course and the Sons continued to enjoy a steady source of income.
Now, with news of McKeavey's untimely death and the introduction of two new players in the game, who had apparently come to town looking to shake up their world, not only was the MC's livelihood in jeopardy, but so was life as they knew it. Needless to say, the mood in the Clubhouse had been grim since Clay and Jax had shared the details of their initial meeting with their new Irish contacts. Not only had Clay lost a good friend, but it seemed that the Club had lost their one ally and advocate within the RIRA. With no shared history or friendship dating back 25 years with the Club, it seemed that Jimmy O and his cohort were determined to squeeze the Sons for as much as they could to close the gap in their fundraising.
Unfortunately, SAMCRO, as it turned out, was soon to be a victim of their own success. Operating almost like a franchise, for the last eight years, the Club had expanded their gun business to include other charters. Now with each charter mirroring SAMCRO's business model, they had established a loyal clientele and had substantially increased their own earnings. An across the board hike would significantly cut into everyone's profits and, as not only the mother charter's President, but as SOA's National President—in effect the Club's CEO—it was Clay's job to find a fix that would benefit the entire MC.
Calling Church to order, Clay banged his gavel.
"Brothers, we've had a couple of days to reflect and collect Intel on our current situation. I'm hoping that we can come up with a counterproposal we can take to the Irish, or we're going to have to find a new way to earn." Clay said grimly.
"If we can't find a way to head off this increase, brother, we always have Cara Cara, the garage, and our protection deal with Unser Trucking." Bobby, forever looking on the financial bright side, advised.
"That shit's small potatoes." Tig interjected. "The Sons are outlaw. Gun-running is how we make our money, support our families."
As Clay suspected, his brothers had grown accustomed to money practically growing on trees. Anything other than a deal that would provide for a profitable business wouldn't fly.
"Before anything is decided, we have to know what we're dealing with." Clay said, pointing his gavel at Chibs. "What have you been able to find out through SAMBEL and your other contacts in Belfast?"
Chibs grunted. "It's not looking good, brutha. Tensions are at a boiling point in the Six Counties. The Cause has taken several significant hits and they are in desperate need of new blood, but no one's exactly beating down their door. New recruits are at an all time low."
"What have you been able to find out about Jimmy O?" Jax asked as he lit a cigarette.
"He's got a reputation for being a tough son of a bitch. He's third generation IRA and started his career as a soldier. He certainly knows his hardware and is considered something of a weapons expert." Chibs explained. "Along with their recruiting issues, there also seems to be some internal shake up going on within the organization, which is why this O'Phelan was moved up from the frontline to now running the gun show. He's quite popular among the rank-and-file, but impressed a few of the shot callers with his ability to generate a shit load of coin in otherwise cash-strapped Eastern-bloc countries. Enough of an impression that it was decided to send his expertise stateside. However, there are those who seem to think that he's advanced too far, too fast and they're undecided on whether he's actually earned the trust to operate virtually unchecked."
"How does knowing any of this affect the decision we have to make?" Piney asked.
"According to McGee, with bigger issues to deal with, all the RIRA wants from us right now is our money and our contacts to traffic their hardware. Jimmy O's word carries much weight. We irk him by 'stepping out of line' and he has enough clout to convince the Kings that they may no longer have a use for us. We need to tread very carefully here, bruthas."
"It seems to me like we don't have a choice to do otherwise." Opie stated grimly. He looked around the table. "If we want to earn, we may have to play ball."
"I agree." Jax spoke up, surprising Clay, who whipped his head around to face his VP. "I know," Jax said in response to Clay's unspoken question. "I don't want to back down any more than you do, but taking what Chibs just said into consideration, this Jimmy O seems legit, so we have no other recourse but to play his way. That being said, we'll play by his rules, but we get to set the terms."
Clay quirked an eyebrow. "Where are you going with this? Jimmy O didn't come across like he was open to negotiation."
"Tough shit. Our relationship with the RIRA spans over a quarter of a century." Jax tapped the Redwood table with two ringed fingers for emphasis. "SAMCRO put them on the map in the States thanks to the deal my father structured with the Irish Kings to help them branch out, netting themselves big fish like the ROC. We've earned the right not to be dictated to."
"The boy's right, Clay. They're spitting in our face with this increase." Piney said gruffly.
Clay looked at his VP's determined face. "What do you have in mind, brother?" He queried.
"I'm thinking that Jimmy O needs reminding of who he's dealing with. We may not be as big as the ROC, but we are responsible for making their presence known stateside. We don't expect special treatment. We demand it because we've earned it. We need to negotiate a special courtesy rate in recognition of our long-standing relationship." Jax explained. "Not anything that would be considered over the top, but enough so that the RIRA remembers that we are Sons and we won't be treated like shit. And by paying a moderate increase, we show that we still respect the RIRA and appreciate our ongoing business relationship. In addition, I say we press them for more contacts that can set us up with small arms. We should continue expanding our market for the smaller hardware in case the RIRA oversteps their bounds and we no longer have a use for them."
Clay looked at his VP and at that moment, realized just how much he had missed having Jax sitting on his left. Bobby had done a fine job while Jax was on the inside, but he simply did not have Jax's savvy when it came to operational matters.
The man is always thinking long-term for his brothers and the Club.
But Clay liked pushing Jax to his limits, so he kept his poker face on, withholding his approval just a little longer. "And what if Jimmy O isn't in a generous mood and refuses to cut us a break?"
"Then we consider taking it to the Irish Kings themselves. The relationship my father established with the RIRA was with them. And, if we handle the meet with Jimmy O right, it may not even need to go that far. The threat of going over Jimmy O's head may be enough for him to relent, go to them on our behalf. He's not going to want to look like a pussy in front of his bosses so soon after taking over their fund-raising operation." Jax reasoned.
"All right." Clay smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "That's real solid thinking, Jax. It's going to have to be played smoothly, but I think it could work."
Glancing around the table and seeing the nods and grins of approval from all of his brothers on Jax's plan, Clay picked up the gavel. "Let's take a vote. All in favor of Jax's plan, say 'aye'." As all around the table complied, Clay smiled a shit-eating grin.
"Jax, you, Ope and Chibs work out terms you think Jimmy O can live with. We'll meet again tomorrow to discuss. We need to finalize this shit fast because we're set to meet with the Irish on Friday." Clay slammed the gavel down. "Meeting adjourned."
As the brothers headed out of Chapel and headed towards the bar, Clay called for his VP and SAA to hang back for a moment.
As the doors closed behind Juice, Jax looked at Clay. "What's the problem?"
"No problem. I'm just a little concerned that this shit with the Irish had to start up now." Clay replied, chewing on an unlit cigar.
Tig crossed his arms over his chest. "You mean because of SAMTAZ?"
"Yeah, I do."
The Tucson Chapter of the Sons had worked along with SAMCRO to expand their gun running efforts in Arizona. SAMTAZ had proven highly profitable, second only to Tacoma in sales. Led by their President Little Paul, the Charter had recently decided that it wanted to handle all of the transportation of their merch from Charming, thereby reducing the vig they were currently paying SAMCRO for their assistance from 25% to 20%. Little Paul had also suggested sending his VP and a couple of new patches to Charming for a couple of months to work directly with SAMCRO to get a handle on the business. The VP was already making suggestions on ways to expand SAMTAZ's profit share by handling their own assembly of the AKs and MAC-10s, which wasn't sitting well with Clay.
Clay pointed a finger at Tig. "Huff will be down here in time for Church on Friday, so we need to get this shit handled with the Irish and under wraps. The last thing we need is talk circulating back to SAMTAZ and the other charters that SAMCRO can't handle their shit, or that the MC's ability to earn is in jeopardy."
"As it is, I'm not liking this bullshit talk about them handling their own assembly." Jax commented. "Assembling automatics is tricky shit and parceling out the job to the other charters can easily blow back on us."
"VP's right." Tig agreed, scratching the hair on his chin. "I've seen too much bad shit go down because of sloppy work by people who don't know what the fuck they're doing. Right now, we guarantee the quality of every gun that goes out of Bluebird." Tig said, referring to their base of operations. "If one of our guns blows up in somebody's face, we're responsible no matter who put them together. Gun-running is SAMCRO's gig and, even though Huff's a brother, I don't like the idea of an outsider coming to our house and dictating how we run our business."
"I agree 100%." Jax folded his hands on the Redwood table. "SAMCRO's been doing this shit for decades. SAMTAZ has been in the game for a few years and suddenly they're fuckin' experts? I know Little Paul trusts Huff, but we don't know him well enough to. Not knowing shit about the business and he's already looking to cut us out and take money out of our pockets. Without us, they ain't got shit, so already I'm not impressed. I say let's keep him out of the loop for now, keep him busy with miscellaneous shit until we see where he's at."
Clay nodded. He liked the fact that he could rely on his VP and SAA, that they were quick to pick up on what he was thinking. "Have dorms been set up for Huff and his crew?"
"Yeah, I had Half-Sack clear out a few rooms." Tig replied.
"Good. I don't want it to be said that the mother charter ain't hospitable."
Sitting on their bikes on a deserted stretch of road, Clay and Jax watched as Jimmy O and his sidekick drove towards them.
"It's about damn time." Jax said irritably. "Waiting for these guys is starting to become a habit."
Clay nodded. He was getting a little tired of this shit, too. "You ready, VP?"
"More than ready." Jax replied as he lit up a cigarette.
The gray sedan pulled to a stop about 10 feet away. Getting out of the car, Jimmy O and Luke strolled casually up to the Sons.
"Hello Clay, Jax." Jimmy O held out his hand. "I apologize for the lateness. A little trouble was stirring up back home and it needed to be dealt with."
"No problem." Clay said. "Is everything all right?"
"Just fine." Quickly jumping to the matter at hand, Jimmy O started, "I want to let you know, Clay, that the situation with the port official has been brought to a successful conclusion. Brenan Hefner will no longer be a problem for anyone ever again."
"That's good to hear." Clay replied.
"I will be heading back home tomorrow, so as you can imagine, I am quite eager to wrap up our unfinished business." Jimmy O advised.
"We certainly hope you still feel that way once you hear what we have to say." Jax responded, earning a quizzical look from both Jimmy O and Luke. "We understand that you're new to your current position, so you may not be aware that the Sons have been doing business with the RIRA for over 25 years. It's a special relationship, one established on mutual trust and profit to help fund the Cause and to provide a living for SAMCRO. While we understand the need for the RIRA to increase their revenue, we believe that this long-standing relationship has entitled SAMCRO not to be treated like just another client in this regard."
Jimmy O looked at Jax, a stone cold expression on his face. "Oh, I am aware, lad, of your 'special relationship'. But times are tough and to make an exception, albeit for a long-standing client, would send the wrong message."
Clay picked up the ball. "Maybe this is something we need to discuss with the Irish Kings. I've known Declan Brogan, Peter Dooley and Brendan Rourke for many years and, while I wouldn't say that we were the best of friends, I have to think that they would have discussed the possibility of an increase with us when they attended my daughter's wedding less than two months ago."
"That makes sense, especially since they saw fit to share their concerns with us regarding the RIRA's recent spate of troubles caused by certain internal affairs." Jax added.
"SAMCRO's not so unreasonable as to not understand that a moderate raise in our cost is a necessary evil. But if you don't have the pull or the authority to make this happen, maybe it is best if I speak with the Irish Kings directly." Clay smiled enigmatically.
Jimmy O flashed Clay a similar, albeit tight, smile. "As it currently stands, all money-related business for the Cause is under my authority," He replied tersely. "So all that would be needed is for me to give the word.
Waiving to Moran, both men turned and had a brief discussion and then turned back to face them. "After your heartfelt request, I would agree that the Sons have a valid point." Jimmy O advised.
Jax took a drag of his cigarette. "Enough of a point to make an exception in our case?"
"Possibly." Jimmy O replied. "Exactly what did you have in mind?"
"We believe that a 10% increase is more than reasonable." Clay smiled broadly. "In addition, we're interested in expanding our small firearms business. In the past, McKeavey had put us in contact with a number of smaller arms dealers who supplied us with hand guns and light assault weapons, which proved quite profitable. We believe we can increase revenue with some more introductions to some of the dealers of the smaller hardware you may be acquanited with."
"Well, in consideration of the long-standing business relationship between the Sons and the RIRA, I believe that a 10% increase is doable." Jimmy O looked at Luke. "Is there anything we can do for our brothers here, as far as expanding their business?"
"There is that Russian matter that still needs resolution." Luke replied.
"Ah, yes." Jimmy O nodded. "As it stands, our Russian friends are looking for someone to mule a few shipments of small arms for them—Glocks, TEC-9's, andTactical M4 Rifles–to Oregon and Canada. It is possible that I may be able to convince them to do business with the Sons. You mule for them and they sell you the smaller hardware. That's as far as my involvement would go. I cannot negotiate a selling price for you, understood?"
Clay smiled and nodded. "Understood. After all, we're not new to the game."
"Then, we're agreed." Jimmy O held out his hand, which was lost in Clay's meat hooks. "Luke will be contacting you in ten days to arrange for your next shipment of AKs and MAC-10s and by then, we will have reached out to our Russian friends." Nodding to Jax, Jimmy O turned away and headed for his car.
"Nice doing business with ya." Clay grinned happily.
Luke looked at Jimmy O as they walked back to the car. "I told you they might be a problem, Jimmy."
"Yes, you did." Jimmy O countered, opening the passenger side door. "But everything is under control, boyo." He smiled grimly. "We'll give the Sons what they want. We won't collect as much for our Cause, but it will be enough . . . For now."
Clay was in a pretty good mood after his meet with the Irish. Things had gone according to plan and it looked like the Sons would be in line for some new business, as well. This bit of news had gone a long way in easing the tension at the table as Jax updated their brothers during Church.
The only bump in the road was waiting for the SAMTAZ VP to show up. He was hours late, but Clay reasoned that Tuscon to Charming was a hell of a long ride, so maybe it was okay to cut him some slack. Better some traffic and a long ride holding him up than some real trouble.
Had Clay known that it might have been better had Huff not shown up at all, he might have taken a cue from his VP, and headed home ealry to his old lady. And it was a very good thing that Jax, eager to get home to his family, had stayed for only about an hour at the after-Church party. Otherwise, things could have gotten nasty.
As it was, it took everything in Clay not to lose his shit when Huff walked into the Clubhouse with Wendy Case on his arm. The first warning alarm had been hearing Bobby swear at the top of his lungs. Standing at the bar, Clay turned his head and got his first eye-popping view of his stepson's ex-wife.
Wearing a skintight white tank top, white jeans and white stiletto biker books, Wendy made quite a picture, with her curves outlined to perfection. The white tank also emphasized the fist-sized tattoo on her upper arm that proclaimed she was the Property of Huff Kagen.
"Oh my God, is he fuckin' serious?" Juice stared as a bunch of croweaters and sweetbutts ran over to welcome back home one of their own, and Jax's ex-Reno Whore wasted no time in showing off her new status as Huff's old lady.
"What the hell is she doing here?" Happy's gravelly voice echoed in the Clubhouse. "I thought Jax ran her ass out of town on a rail."
"That's what I'm about to find out." Clay declared. However, as he turned around, Clay found himself being embraced by his Tucson brother.
Pulling back, Clay took a long, hard look at the SAMTAZ VP. In his early-to-mid-50's, Huff had been VP of the Tucson charter for the last five years. The man had aged, but still had an impressive physique and while not overly attractive, he wouldn't scare off little children at night. Clay had to question, however, how much of a brain he had to show up in Charming with Jax's ex-gash in tow.
After the big blow out wedding of the Prince of Charming and the SAMCRO Princess, pretty much everyone in the MC World knew that Wendy Case was persona non grata in Charming. Clay was left with no other alternative but to conclude that Little Paul's VP was indeed light on gray matter and thus, not too swift on the uptake.
And he would be right.
Huff had actually thought that he had scored something special in his new old lady. At 54, Huff had started to think that it might be time for him to finally settle down with a woman to take care of his needs as he started moving into his golden years. Unlike the mother charter, the SAMTAZ Clubhouse didn't have much in the way of "amenities" and the availability of women willing to spread for the aging biker were getting few and far between.
Huff had often enjoyed himself whenever he visited the other charters, with SAMCRO being a particular favorite, especially while Jax Teller had been in Chino. Wendy's willingness to exercise the prison clause had afforded him the frequent opportunity to bang the VP's old lady. Huff may in fact be twenty-plus years older than Jax, but the old saying was true, in his case at least: there may be snow on the roof, but there was a raging fire in the furnace. He took pride that he was well-equipped to satisfy the strong sexual appetites of the younger woman, who had complained that her husband did not want conjugal visits while he was in prison. Jax's old lady was very talented in terms of taking care of a man's baser instincts and Huff couldn't see why Jax didn't take advantage of the girl's skills. It had occurred to Huff that maybe the golden boy of Charming was a closet homosexual. In any case, Huff was nobody's fool and instead of bragging to his brothers from other charters that he was banging the SAMCRO VP's old lady on the regular, he decided to keep his little sexcapades with Wendy a closely guarded secret.
However, when Wendy showed up in Tucson a couple of weeks after Teller's marriage to Jolene Morrow, Huff decided to snatch up the 38 year old ex-stripper while the opportunity had presented itself and had marked her with a property tat. Now, standing in the SAMCRO Clubhouse, Huff was getting the distinct feeling that he had stepped in the shit big time.
"You. Me. In the Chapel. Now." Clay growled as he headed towards the Chapel doors.
"Something tells me that this is going to be a short visit." Tig snarked at a smirking Happy.
I'm getting too old for this shit.
Clay stood outside the Tellers' front door, hesitating to ring the bell. It was early Saturday morning, a morning that he should have spent relaxing after the festivities at the Clubhouse the night before. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.
Not in the least.
Pressing the doorbell, Clay waited as the chimes resounded throughout the house and finally reached the warm and sleepy couple, who had just started fooling around.
"Damn it." Jolene moaned as Jax continued working his mouth magic on her and ignored the doorbell. "Who the hell is that?"
"Don't know, don't really care, darlin'." Jax replied, barely coming up for air. "They'll go away when nobody answers the door."
Unfortunately, Jax was wrong. The visitor simply continued to lay on the doorbell.
"Motherfucker!" Pulling away from his old lady, Jax scrambled off their bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants he had left on the floor the night before. Turning his head, Jax caught a glimpse of his old lady propped up against the pillows, her hands fluffing up her bed head and her full and luscious tits amply displayed before him. Sporting a lecherous grin, Jax climbed right back into bed.
A pillow hit him square in the face, stopping him in his tracks. "Just go, get rid of them and come back before Abel wakes up! Unless, of course, you'd rather walk around today with a set of blue balls." Jolene stated, bringing the bed sheet up to her neck.
At that, Jax sprinted downstairs and to the front door before the doorbell rang again. However, seeing his father-in-law through the beveled window glass surrounding the front door as he approached, Jax sighed.
Throwing open the door, Jax didn't let Clay get a word in edgewise. "I'm sure you'll be happy to know that your cock-blocking sense is still as sharp as ever, but we're married now, so enough with the buzz-killing, bro." Waiting for Clay to shoot back a snarky retort, Jax was surprised when he didn't get one. Taking a close look at his President's tired face Jax realized that this wasn't a social call. "What's going on?"
"How about letting me in off the damn doorstep and I'll tell you?"
Feeling a little better at the delayed, but cocky retort, Jax ushered Clay in. When Clay suggested that they go down to Jax's man cave, he knew something was up.
The men walked down stairs to the basement where Jax had a man cave that even Clay had come to envy. The large rectangular room had actually been completely designed and decorated by Jolene. Clay had warned his son-in-law that letting his daughter loose in there was probably a big mistake, but Jax decided to trust his old lady.
Jolene had kept the room padlocked until it had been completely done. To be honest, Jax had been a little leery himself, but had resigned himself to live with whatever the result. A man cave wasn't worth the risk of hurting his old lady's feelings.
He should have trusted Jolene, who not only knew him intimately, but had called on one of his brothers to help her completely trick out his room. Juice had helped Jolene create the ultimate man cave and now it seemed that the newlyweds had more male company in their home in the two months that they had been hitched than in the three years they had lived together in their old home.
The entertainment center was the focal point of the room. The 70" high definition LED flat screen was mounted on the left wall. With a full surround sound system, and the latest in entertainment and gaming consoles, it was the ultimate of entertainment systems.
In the far corner was a large desk with a computer built into its flat touch screen and the walls surrounding it covered with many photos of the Teller family, old and new.
The room itself was decorated in dark earth tones of brown, green and black with touches of blue and burgundy for color. The large oversized leather furniture screamed "men only". The walls opposite the entertainment center were covered with a montage of photos of their SOA heritage from its early days that Jolene had professionally blown up and mounted in matching dark wood frames.
Finally, the beautiful polished wood bar that spanned the wall next to the room's entrance was fully stocked with just about every liquor known to man.
Clay sighed enviously as he sat down in one of the comfortable chairs opposite his son.
I might need to get baby girl to redo my man cave.
Pulling his thoughts back to the matter at hand, he looked at Jax. "We have a problem."
"Well, I think you showing up at 7:30 in the morning on a Saturday would signify that." Jax replied. "So what the hell is it?"
"I need to know if you're going to go ape-shit on me because I really can't deal with that right now." The fact that Clay's tone was deadly serious did not bode well.
"I can't promise shit until I know what it is, so maybe you should just spill it, bro."
"Huff finally showed up last night. And he wasn't alone. Wendy was with him."
For a moment, Jax was sincerely puzzled. "Wendy who?" As his father-in-law met his eyes, it finally hit Jax. "Tell me you are fuckin' with me."
"I wish to God I could, son." Clay sighed wearily. Jax rubbed his face with both hands.
Damn it! Not now. Not when things are so good with me and Jo.
"It gets worse."
Jax's eyes whipped up to meet Clay's. "How can it possibly get worse?"
"She's his old lady."
"Is he fuckin' stupid?" Jax nearly roared.
"Initially, I didn't think so, but now I'm sure he's thinking with his dick more than anything else, so yeah. He is fuckin' stupid, but here's the problem." Clay started. "None of that matters. If Huff was any other patch, I would expect him to put his wants on the side out of respect for me and mine."
"And that's exactly what should happen." Jax got up and paced the room.
Clay continued as if Jax hadn't spoken. "But he's not. He's SAMTAZ's VP and as an officer, he is due the respect that would be accorded to any visiting officer."
"And what about respect for the mother charter's VP? What about the respect due to my old lady, your daughter?" Jax retorted.
"Don't you think I understand that? I may not like that he's brought that road pussy back to Charming, but now is not the time to get into political back-biting and maneuvering with Huff. If we insist he send his gash back home, he may pick up and leave with her, and it could start up a whole lot of trouble for SAMCRO that we don't have the time to deal with now."
Jax sighed as he lowered himself into the deep leather couch. Technically, he knew that Clay was right, but the thought of having Wendy Case back in his life, the life he was creating with Jolene, made him sick to his stomach.
"Son, I know this is difficult. This may be hard to believe, but I hate this situation even more than you do right now." And it was true.
The fact was that Clay had a very good reason to hate that Wendy had returned. Up until now Clay had managed to keep hidden from everyone, including his beloved daughter, the fact that he was the one responsible for luring Wendy to Charming in the first place, hoping that she would break up the young couple.
Clay knew that he should have confessed that sad truth to his daughter when she had first returned to Charming, thereby wiping the slate fully clean, but he just couldn't do it. Now that everything was settled and Jax and Jolene were happy, Clay did not want this ugly truth to come out. While he was sure Jax had suspected his involvement in the Wendy-fiasco, he had never confronted him about it and Clay did not want to open that can of worms with his VP now. With Wendy in town, exposing Jolene to his participation in that horrible mess at the Clubhouse was all too possible.
Last night, the gash had as good as threatened him to do just that.
After his heated conversation with Huff in the Chapel, which had resolved absolutely nothing, Clay had had enough and decided to head home. Noticing that the lid of his crank case had been tampered with, Clay realized that someone had been fucking around with his bike. Cursing under his breath, he flipped the lid completely open and saw a folded sheet of paper, a note from the gash herself.
In it, Wendy made it quite clear that she was sticking around with her new old man. She had no interest in Jax or Jolene, but made it clear that she would not be run out of Charming. She was staying until her old man finished his business with SAMCRO and they returned to Arizona.
If you don't smooth the way for me to be with my old man, I will make sure your precious 'baby girl' finds out in the most humiliating way possible just who it was that convinced me to come down and pay Jax a visit.
So here he was trying to convince his son-in-law to allow Huff and his whore to spend the summer associating with the mother charter until he could be trained and sent back home.
"I'm having a hard time seeing it that way, Clay. And if you think I'm having a hard time, that's nothing compared to how Jo is going to react."
"That's why I'm talking to you." Clay pointed a ringed finger at Jax. "I know my baby girl is a handful and she has every right to be territorial, but I spoke to Huff and he has assured me that Wendy does not intend to cause any trouble. As long as we keep the two of them apart, I see no reason why Huff can't learn what he needs to know and get the hell out of here."
Jax shook his head, still not convinced. "For your sake and the sake of my marriage, I hope you're right."
As was tradition since Jax's return from Chino, Saturday morning in the Teller household consisted of a full pancake breakfast, followed by a couple of hours of father-son time watching cartoons in Jax's tricked out man cave. It was just one of the many family rituals that Jax always looked forward to.
But this morning was a little different. After another favorite Saturday morning ritual of a little leisurely nookie with his wife before breakfast was interrupted, an angry Jax had returned to Jolene and, without saying a word as to their early morning visitor, proceeded to fuck her brains out. As always, an angry Jax was a hot Jax and Jolene had certainly enjoyed it, but she knew her old man well enough to know when he was out of sorts. He didn't get pissed off without a reason and usually had a good one when he did.
They were just coming down from their near-simultaneous orgasms, and Jolene was about to start asking questions, when Abel burst in to greet his parents. Quickly flipping the bed sheet over her naked body, Jolene sighed.
Why can't my mentally-challenged old man ever remember to lock the damn door?
Leaving her two men rough-housing on their bed, Jolene took a quick shower and headed downstairs to prepare Neeta's famous chocolate chip pancakes while Jax and Abel took a shower. It was a beautiful morning and Jolene had opened the French doors by the breakfast nook to let in the fresh spring breeze. With only a couple of weeks left to the semester, Jax had been lobbying Jolene to take the summer off, while Pat Doyle was actively pursuing her to teach summer school in Stockton. However, Jolene started to wonder, regardless of what decision she made, just what kind of summer she was in store for as the conversation at the breakfast table took a sharp left.
It was Abel who actually got the ball rolling. Talking around a mouthful of pancakes, Abel commented, "Daddy, was it Papa's bike that woke me up this morning?"
"It was." Jax looked at his son proudly. "How did you know it was him, Little Man?"
"His bike sounds different than yours. It growls more, kinda like Uncle Opie's, but his is different, too." Abel replied.
Jolene quirked her eyebrow. "So it was my dad that dropped by earlier?" She eyed her husband. "You didn't mention that when you came back upstairs." Seeing the cagey look on Jax's face started Jolene's mind racing.
No, you just screwed me blind to take my mind off of that little detail, didn't ya?
Jax sighed. Thanks to his old lady, he had managed to work out his own anger and frustration at the bomb that his President had dropped on him. Maybe sharing his misery now with their son present would forestall an epic blowout, but judging by the look on her face he seriously doubted it.
"No, I didn't, darlin'. I guess I needed time to process what he had to say."
"That sounds ominous." Piecing together what she could, it was obvious that her father's early morning visit had not been a social call.
"What does 'minus' mean, Mommy?" Abel piped up.
"It means not good, baby." Jolene replied, her eyes still on Jax. "Let me use it in a sentence. 'The odds against the old lady's husband not riding the couch are looking quite ominous.' Does that help?"
Abel wrinkled his nose. "Not really."
"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm sure Daddy can do a better job of explaining it to you, after he explains it to me first." Jolene's eyes met her husband's. "So what's the problem?" She said calmly as she poured herself some more coffee.
Jax finally decided to bite the bullet. Dropping the fork on his plate, he leaned back in his chair. "SAMTAZ's VP finally showed up last night, after I had called it a night and came home."
Jolene looked at her old man quizzically. "That's Club business, baby. Why would that be a problem for us?"
"Problems are definitely a possibility since he brought his old lady Wendy with him." Jax moistened his suddenly dry lips.
Sure she was misinterpreting what he had said, Jolene slowly sipped her coffee before putting her mug down. "Wendy who?" She asked softly.
"There's only one that I know of, darlin'." Jax replied grimly.
Jolene's eyes widened as her tongue went numb. "How does something like that happen, Jackson?" Jolene spoke evenly and barely above a whisper. "I thought you had taken care of old rubbish."
Abel, who had finally finished his pancakes, sat and stared at his mother, whose green eyes seemed to have tripled in size. She had called his daddy "Jackson" and, even though she seemed to be smiling, Abel knew that wasn't a good thing. Looking from one parent to the other, he was sure his daddy knew that, too.
"Apparently, after leaving Charming, she went to Arizona and hooked up with SAMTAZ'S VP." Jax explained.
Jolene bit her lip to keep herself from calling the glorified croweater a whore. "She can hook up with the entire flipping Charter for all I care. Still doesn't explain why she's back." She responded calmly, mentally patting herself on the back for not losing her mud in front of their son.
"Because her old man is here on Club business for a couple of months and per Clay, so will she. Believe me, baby, I'm not any happier about this than you are," Jax explained. "But my hands are tied, and so are Clay's. With Club politics the way they are, we need to tread carefully, but Clay won't let Wendy's presence affect us at all and that will be made clear, both to Huff and his woman. I promise."
Seeing her baby watch her with big eyes, Jolene tempered her response. "Okay." Jolene smiled broadly as she grabbed Abel's empty plate. "That's all I needed to hear." She got up from the table and headed to the sink, stopping briefly by Jax's chair to drop a light kiss on his brow furrowed with confusion.
Who the fuck was I just talking to and what has she done with my old lady?
All things considered, Jolene thought that their first official non-argument in front of Abel had gone well. Jolene smiled to herself as she scraped the remnants of their breakfast into the garbage disposal. Leave it to a man to try and prevent a well-deserved ass whupping by discussing a sensitive issue in front of a child.
Jolene had managed to contain her shit partly because Abel was watching her like a hawk, but mostly because, listening to Jax, Jolene realized there was really nothing she could do about the situation. All she could do was trust that her father and her husband knew what they were doing in allowing that no good, low-life, crab-infested, cranked-out pussy back into their lives. Why create unnecessary drama in her home when it was unlikely that her path would even cross with Wendy's?
Besides, it wasn't like she had anything to worry about. After everything they've been through in order to finally end up together and happy, Jolene was woman enough and confident enough to know that Jax would never betray her with that slut again.
Jax is mine—always has been, always will be. Peace shall reign as long as that heifer knows her place and is kept out of my way.
Standing at the sink, Jolene felt Jax snake his muscular arms around her waist, pressing his body against hers.
"Hey," Jolene smiled as Jax nibbled at her ear. "The Power Ranger Power Hour over already?"
"Nah, Abel's taking a potty break," Jax spun Jolene around and pinned her to the counter. "And I just wanted to check up on my baby." Jolene's eyes drifted closed as Jax buried his hands in her messy ponytail and leaned in, kissing her with authority as if reminding her who she belonged to and, more importanly, who he belonged to as well. "You really okay with all this, darlin'?"
Jolene nodded, her hands on Jax's, who was still holding her face lovingly. "I promise. I've never felt calmer or more clear-headed."
Jax smirked. "I gotta tell you, babe, rage feels a lot like that."
Jolene pulled herself out of his embrace and turned back to loading the dishwasher. "I'm not raging, Jackson."
"You sure about that? That's the second time this morning you've called me by my name. I'm starting to get worried." He teased pinning her once again to the counter until Jolene pushed him away with her butt.
"It's not me you should worry about because, as long as she steers clear, I don't really see a problem. But," Jolene cautioned as she turned to face Jax again. "If that bitch steps one toe out of line with me again, I hope you understand that you're helping me get rid of the body."
Jax smiled as he searched her face. She was deadly serious and too beautiful for words. "Absolutely, darlin'. You can count on me to be the Clyde to your Bonnie."
"That's all I ask." Jolene smiled as she tip-toed and dropped a soft but lingering kiss on his lips before returning to the task of cleaning her kitchen.
It was already shaping up to be a long, hot summer. Unfortunately, Wendy Case was going to be the least of their problems.