Chapter 15: LIKE A DEADLY BALANCING ACT
"So the late madam had an affair with Teller, who may or may not have been a partner in her drug business - and she didn't have an alibi for the time of Tara Knowles' murder?" Sitting at her desk, Patterson glances between Jarry and Reese. "I know a few things about Jackson Teller, and one of those things is that he loved his wife…If anything, it leads me to wonder whether Teller suspected Colette Jane killed Tara and…"
"I wouldn't exactly call it an affair," Jarry cuts in. "Based on all accounts, they hooked up twice - never happened again after his wife caught them." Pulling out her small notebook, she waves it at Patterson. "According to the Diosa's #2 in command, the madam's partner in the drug business was an ex-Stockton PD officer named Charlie Barosky. If anyone had motive to keep the madam quiet and had access to Women's County, it's him."
A slow smile spreads across Jarry's face at the reminder of their earlier, more successful interrogation of Colette Jr. In exchange for a suspended sentence and community service, the anorexic Barbie Doll spilled her guts about everything she knew about her boss and Charlie Barosky, the former (and current) corrupting blight on the Stockton police force. Jarry's been trying to bring down that crooked son-of-a-bitch since her rookie year when she learned there were no depths too low for him to sink. And now she has all the proof she needs to send the fucker to prison where he belongs.
"Maybe you're both right..." Reese breaks his silence, eyes rooted to the photos pulled from the file resting on his lap. "…maybe Teller's whore killed Tara - she had motive, no alibi and if we dig deep enough we might be able to place her at the scene. But the CSU report suggests someone else killed Roosevelt."
He looks up at Patterson. "How much do we really know about the state of their marriage leading up to her murder? What if Teller offered himself up for the school shootings so Tara wouldn't take the WitPro deal - knowing that Colette Jane was waiting at his house, ready to take care of their problem? What if Roosevelt walked in on the scene and Teller took him out to protect his lover?" Closing the file, Reese hands it back to Patterson. "Killing a witness to a capital crime - who happened to be a decorated law enforcement officer…sounds like the AG's picture perfect case."
Jarry gapes at Reese in surprise; throughout this whole investigation, the man's stayed away from speculation - hell, if anything he'd steered them away from Jax Teller due to the lack of concrete facts. What the hell brought about this change?
Reese meets her stunned gaze. "And maybe you're right as well, Sheriff. Maybe the madam's real partner wasn't too thrilled with the idea that she could give him up in exchange for any kind of deal. After all, she was looking at strike three with this latest drug bust. If this Barosky's as connected as you say, then it wouldn't be hard to pull the strings to make his problem go away."
Jarry watches Patterson's eyes light up with satisfaction; even though it's clear the DA still doesn't believe Teller had a role in his wife's death, she wants him off the streets. And now the career politician finally, finally has the state's golden boy on her side. "Go pick up Teller for questioning," she orders Jarry. "He's not under arrest…at least not yet."
"I'll come with you, Lieutenant." Reese rises to follow her. "I'd finally like to meet this Biker King."
Compared to the other mindfucking shit that he's done, earning the Men of Mayhem patch had been a goddamn piece of cake - living with the consequences of it…well that was something else entirely. Although Jax knew that spilling blood was as much a part of SAMCRO as a cut and a Harley, he'd never been able to wash it off as easily as his Brothers. No matter how battered and bruised, his troubled conscience always seemed to fight to the surface despite his constant attempts to bury it deep or kill it altogether.
But through the years of watching his victims succumb to Mr. Mayhem, Jax could never quite ignore the prickles of regret and remorse; not when it'd been the image of Tara's beautiful face - worried and disappointed - that flooded his mind, the sound of her sad voice that echoed in his ears.
"Don't let this change you, Jax." She brushes her fingers across the week-old patch on his cut then strokes his bruised face (the Mayan hadn't gone down easily). "I love you so much, Baby. You've got a big beautiful heart, don't let them kill it."
However it hadn't been the Club or the new assassin's patch that snuffed out the heart she'd worried so much about it; Tara had done that herself when she left him for college less than a month later. But regardless of whether she stood by his side or a million miles away, he never went a day without wondering what she'd think about the shit he did - if she'd be proud or repulsed. Sadly more often than not, it felt like the latter; so with her in mind, he'd try to do what he could to fix the damage of the day before - to try and be worthy of the girl he loved so much.
But all that changed the day Tara died; now all his regret and remorse revolves around the woman and the future he'd lost. He doesn't have shit left for anything else - certainly not for slime like Marks, Colette or Wendy.
Dumping Wendy's carcass into the shallow grave (not far from where he'd dispatched Kohn), Jax had stared into that hideous blue and bloated face as if waiting for shards of guilt to pierce him - but he'd felt nothing, nothing but hate.
Rather, he'd watched impassively as Happy covered the corpse with gasoline then light it on fire, and then just like Kohn - Wendy Case disappeared forever. And just like Kohn, no one would ever give a shit.
Now he's got one more thing left to do before he can say goodbye to his Brothers and his mother and take his family out of Charming for good. But that one thing - confronting a man he's known his whole life - won't be as easy or as satisfying as sending Wendy to hell. Yet on some level, his rage at Unser boils unparalleled; the man who's known Tara since she was a little girl…who'd broke down and cried over her when he'd visited Jax in the hospital…Why in fucking hell would the fucked-up son-of-a-bitch feel the need to protect Wendy after what she'd done to Tara?
But Jax won't be pushing the man for answers; at this point, he doesn't give a shit. No, all he wants the ex-cop to do is tell the truth and fuck up Reese's plan to pin Roosevelt's death on him.
"Cards on the table, Teller. I'll help you find her murderer, help you put that animal down…and then I'm going to nail you for killing Eli Roosevelt, a decorated county Sheriff and witness to Tara's murder; once you're convicted, I'm going to have a front row seat when the state jabs a needle into your arm."
He can't wait to see prick's sanctimonious face when his crazy batshit plan gets blown to hell.
"Jax, we should go…" Dumping a final shovel-full of dirt on the smoldering ashes, he glances up at Happy and nods. One more thing left to do…
"Hurry Daddy, we hafta to go now." Abel tugs impatiently on his shirt. "Me and Tommy want to go now." Coming home to find his boys eating breakfast with Chucky and Rat, Jax had barely sipped some coffee and taken a bite of toast before Abel leaped from the table and announced it was time to leave for daycare.
Jax glances over at his baby boy, sitting in his high-chair casually dropping Cheerios from his bowl to the floor; apparently Thomas' got a different definition of urgency than his older brother. Turning back to Abel, he smiles slightly at the sight of the little boy threading his arms through his ever-present backpack, refusing any help from Chucky or Rat. Little Mr. Independent - Abel's determined to do everything for himself, just like someone else Jax had known well. "What's the rush, Little Man? We'll get there, but let your brother finish his breakfast."
Eyeing his little brother trying to prove the theory of gravity with breakfast cereal, Abel wrinkles his forehead and arches a brow. "Really?" he drawls in such sheer Tara fashion that Jax nearly chokes on his food.
"Okay, Buddy," he rasps, his throat tight. "We'll go now."
Lifting Thomas out of his high-chair, Jax takes the packed diaper bag from Chucky then lets Abel tug them towards the door. "Are you taking rocks to daycare?" He frowns at his son's bulkier-than-usual backpack; stuffed full with the dozen books that Tara had recorded along with a couple framed photos of her, the bag looked heavy enough to tip the little boy over - what the fuck else had Abel shoved in there?
But his son doesn't get the chance to answer as Jax opens the front door to discover a pair of uninvited guests - Sheriff Althea Jarry, her fist raised, ready to knock on the door. Instantly, he feels Rat and Chucky tense behind him as Abel presses himself closer.
"What do you want?" Jax growls at them; noting the pair of deputies standing in the driveway, he shoots a glare that promises death at Nick Reese.
Jarry flashes a reassuring smile at Abel before facing Jax. "We just want to talk," she tells him, no doubt her friendly tone more for the little boys' sake than their father.
"Well, we're on our way out," he grits out. "You'll have to make an appointment with my secretary."
Jarry scowls at him, her feigned affability giving way to annoyance. "We have some questions for you, Mr. Teller - about your business partner, Colette Jane. I'd prefer not to go into specifics right here." She glances pointedly at Abel. "It would be much easier if you just come with us…"
Feeling Abel's grip tighten on his hand, Jax wavers between telling these assholes to get the fuck off his property and surrendering peacefully to avoid scaring his sons - however, the decision's yanked from him by the most unlikely source.
"As he said, Mr. Teller's about to take these young men somewhere…surely we can wait for him to finish then meet us at the Sheriff's station in…let's say an hour?" Stunned by Reese's unexpectedly generous capitulation, they all turn to gawk at him - only to find the man's attention riveted on Thomas.
As usual, Jax's baby boy soaks up the attention, showing off some brand new teeth as he grins broadly at the strangers. Unlike his more reticent older brother, Thomas Teller charges into every day ready to charm the shit out of everyone - just like his Daddy. And now it appears as if he's won over the biggest asshole in the universe.
While Reese's captivation with the youngest Teller might've mystified everyone else, Jax knows better than anyone what it feels like to fall victim to those sparkling green eyes. His baby boy may mirror him in every way, but those eyes are pure Tara.
"You look like my Daddy." Abel lets go of his Jax's hand, steps forward and peers up at Reese. "You have ouchies like Daddy, too." Forgetting his usual shyness around new people, Abel reaches into one of his backpack's many pockets and pulls out a band-aid decorated with Batman logos, which he offers to Reese. "Mommy says you hafta put these on your ouchies or they get 'fected."
Jax's hate for the colossal prick ticks down a few microscopic degrees when Reese squats in front of Abel to accept the band-aid, flashing a smile so warm and sincere that Abel beams back and Jax almost forgets his intent to kill the man.
"Your Mommy must be one smart lady." At Abel's fervent nod, Reese unwraps the band-aid and sticks it on one of the cuts on his cheek. "Thanks, Buddy."
"My Mommy's a doctor," Abel tells him somberly. "I'm gonna be a doctor, too." For the second time this morning, Jax's throat tightens; there's absolutely fucking nothing he wouldn't give or do for Tara to be right here, right now listening to how much she meant to their son. To all of them.
"I'm sure you'll be a great doctor." Looking a bit rattled himself, Reese shakes the little boy's small hand. "Just like your Mommy."
Abel's smile widens as he clutches the strap of his backpack, leading Jax to suspect the reason for its exponential growth; that nestled with the books and framed pictures would be Tara's medical bag. Unable to help himself, Jax hugs his boys tighter against him. "I'm taking my sons to daycare now." He tells an irate and confused Sheriff Jarry. "And I'll be at your place in an hour." Turning around, he nods at Chucky. "Call Rosen."
"It's just wrong." Perched on his lap, Tara casts yet another withering scowl at the mostly naked threesome fucking openly in a not-so-dark corner of the Clubhouse. The party's been in full swing for less than an hour with SOA Members from all over the West Coast pushing the limits of drunken debauchery - including the Tacoma President, who'd been pulled away from them by two busty croweaters. "He's married." She narrows her eyes, outraged for the man's absent wife. "Shit, he was showing me pictures of his family just a few minutes ago."
Jax squeezes her thigh and nuzzles her neck, partly to diffuse her indignation but mostly because he's missed her so damn much during the four days he and his Brothers had gone to Tucson for the election of a new SAMTAZ President. His pulse spikes at the feel of goosebumps peppering her baby soft skin.
Holy shit, after the last few hours spent fucking each other into oblivion, his dick should be wrung dry and limp as a goddamn noodle. But no - nestled against her very fine ass, his cock's brick hard and ready to rip through his jeans. He's pretty much shit at abstinence, viscerally hating every second spent away from her; lucky for him, Tara burns the same way - he'd been stripped naked and mounted within seconds of climbing through her window late last night. Burying his face in her silky hair, he pulls her tighter against him, his cock twitching impatiently at the memory of how quickly and violently she'd ridden them to orgasm.
"Part of the life, Sweetheart." Bobby hands her a joint. "What happens on the road don't mean shit."
Frowning, she takes a hit then passes it to Opie. "That's ridiculous; I may be new at this Old Lady business, but I can't imagine his wife feels that way." No doubt feeling the seismic rumblings pressing against her ass, she nearly blinds Jax with a smile before feeding him a slow, wet kiss. "Tell me that you don't buy that shit, Baby…"
Already dazed from the intoxicating feel of her lush mouth, Jax's brain empties as he gazes into those hypnotic eyes. "What?" At the sound of his Brothers roaring with laughter, he scowls at them over Tara's shoulder.
"Darlin' you don't have to worry about the kid here." Tig reaches over to ruffle Jax's hair. Unwilling to unwrap his arms around Tara long enough to slug his fucking asshole Brother, Jax recoils angrily - shooting the motherfucker his most lethal glare.
Undeterred, Tig pokes the bear even further by squeezing Tara's knee. "You got loverboy so pussy-whipped that when you cross these long legs, we could be in Mexico and he'd get a boner." Fueled by the sight of Opie and Bobby laughing their asses off, Tig smirks and ignores Jax's threats of painful and immediate death if he doesn't take his goddamn hand off Tara and shut his fucking mouth. "Seriously, I've never seen someone jerk off as much as this guy on a run. I told him he'd better start letting croweaters suck his dick or get your name tattooed on his right hand."
Although none of the appallingly inappropriate shit his Brothers say ever seems to faze Tara (especially not after the past couple of years hanging out in the Clubhouse), sometimes these assholes go too far. Wrinkling her forehead, she arches a dark brow in distaste. "Really?"
Jax's not quite as restrained in his fury. "You goddamn prick…don't you ever talk to Tara like that," he seethes hotly. "And seriously, you've got half a second to get your fucking hand off my Old Lady or I'm going to hack it off and fucking beat you to death with it." Despite patching in just last year, Jax doesn't give a shit about openly challenging one of the senior Members - especially not over what belonged to him.
No doubt aware of the carnage that would surely follow from the combustible mix of his volcanic temper and Tig's penchant for tossing gasoline on fire (literally and figuratively), Tara rolls her eyes at Opie then plucks the offending hand from her knee. Swiveling to straddle Jax's thighs, she distracts him with the view of her plump cleavage so deliciously displayed by her wispy mint green halter top.
Pressing those lush breasts against him, she grinds down on his still-hard cock and whispers hotly in his ear. "Why don't you just fuck me instead?"
He doesn't need to be asked twice. Rising, he hauls her over his shoulder, flips Tig the bird then practically sprints to the one place nearby where they could be alone - no fucking way any of these clowns get to see Tara naked.
"Are you sure this is okay? I mean your Mom works in here." Sitting up after Jax dumps her on the couch, she glances around the TM Office, lingering on the desk where Gemma Teller-Morrow spends a good part of every day.
Jax frowns as he tugs off her cut-offs and panties before pulling her to straddle him once again. "It's fine. And let's definitely not talk about my mom right now." Tugging down the halter top that's been torturing him for hours now, he takes a second to savor the mouthwatering view of her perfect pink-tipped breasts then sucks a plump nipple into his mouth.
"Oh shit, I love you so much, Babe" he moans as she pulls his stiff cock out of his jeans - gripping him tightly in one hand while massaging his balls with the other.
Sliding her hand up and down the rigid length of him, Tara smiles as he shivers with excitement. "Tell me again that you missed me…" Nodding fervently, he continues to suckle her breasts greedily then moans again - louder - when she rubs the slippery wet head of dick against her clit. "Promise me that Tig's right…that you don't touch any of those sluts that throw themselves at you. Just me…"
Releasing her nipple, Jax lashes it with one long lick before gazing up at her. "Tig might be a sick fuck, but yeah, he's right." He stares at her intently while his fingers encircle her hand clutching his cock. "Since it's been just you and me…the only people who've touched this bad boy have been you and me. And my doctor - but he's sixty and not my type."
Giggling softly, Tara cups his face then melts what's left of his brain with a deep, wet kiss as she slowly impales herself on his dick that always seems to harden into solid rock anytime she's with him - in the flesh or in his mind. "I love you more than anything in this world, Jax. And I do trust you…"
"So the last time you were here answering questions about your wife and Sheriff Roosevelt's death, you left out one critical detail." Patterson pierces him with a hard stare from across the interrogation room table."
Jax crosses his arms and returns her glare. "And what would that be? I told you everything I remember about that day." It'd been excruciating to re-live his last few hours with Tara: the painful confrontation in the park, the ecstasy of their reconciliation in that motel room (although he left out the more private details that were none of her fucking business), the agony of finding Tara lying murdered on their kitchen floor.
"You conveniently forgot to mention you were having an affair with another woman, who was not only the madam of a whorehouse but a long-time drug dealer to boot," she snaps at him. "Maybe I wouldn't have so readily believed your willingness to sacrifice your freedom for your wife's if I knew about that. Now I wonder if it'd all been some carefully constructed plot…you playing on Tara's love for you, on her desperation to keep your sons safe…and on my eagerness to punish the monster responsible for the deaths of those school children. All the while, your lover's lying in wait to make sure you wouldn't have to honor our arrangement."
Gritting his teeth, Jax grips the edge of the table until his fingers turn white - just like the last time they brought him in this goddamn room; however, this time it's not only just Patterson's blood he wants but also the fucking son-of-a-bitch sitting silently across from him. Besides their terse introduction, the asshole's remained silent through this whole shitfest.
"That is a goddamn lie," he hisses at her through clenched teeth, ignoring the dark look from Rosen warning him not to fall into one of Patterson's traps. "For the last fucking time, I didn't have anything to do with killing my wife or Roosevelt. I'd never hurt Tara."
"No?" She slides a file folder across the table at him. "These are some surveillance photos taken of your wife…at first I thought she was just worried about her upcoming trial. Now that we know she was aware that her husband was cheating on her with some cheap hooker, well I can't imagine how that wouldn't hurt…"
Opening the file before Rosen can stop him, Jax pores through the series of pictures - trying desperately to appear unaffected despite the slight tremble to his hands and wetness welling in his eyes. Based on the dates imprinted on the photos, they'd been taken on several occasions leading up to the day she'd run off with their sons.
Sitting on the picnic bench in front of their old Clubhouse - Abel on her lap and Thomas in her arms; the cheerful smile she forces for them can't hide the sadness and desperation in her eyes. In the distance, he's standing with Gemma and his Brothers talking and laughing.
Walking out of St. Thomas to her car with Rat trailing dutifully behind; her face pale with exhaustion and fear, her shoulders slumped in defeat - no sign at all of that spirited, indomitable girl he loved so much.
Sobbing with her face buried in her hands, huddled alone in the front seat of her parked SUV.
Jax doesn't have to check the date on the last photo to know it'd been taken after she'd caught him with Colette, but he'd been sadly surprised by the others. Although he'd sensed and hated the distance growing between them, it hadn't occurred to him how lost and alone she must've felt. His fingers curl around the last photo as self-disgust swamps him; once again so focused on his vision that he's oblivious to her pain. It's been happening since they were kids; you'd think he'd fucking learn from all his goddamn mistakes with her - but it's too late now.
Slamming the file closed, Rosen glares coldly at the DA as he tosses the folder back to her. "This is some pretty amateurish fishing, Mrs. Patterson. After all this time, you still don't know shit so you're trying to stir up my client's grief over losing his wife to glean a spontaneous confession? Pathetic. I've seen better work by first years in Legal Aid."
Outrage flares in her eyes. "Now look here…"
"No." Rosen shoots her down as he stands and motions to Jax to follow. "If you ever waste our time like this again, I'm sending you a bill." A smug sneer spreads across his face as he regards Patterson, Jarry and Reese. "I'm usually not one to break Attorney-Client Confidentiality, but I think right now, my real client would insist on it…Jax didn't hire me to represent him. Neither did his mother or SAMCRO. Tara did."
Rosen's smirk broadens at their collective looks of confusion. "She'd already hired me for another matter, which I can't discuss. But I can say that she came to see me after Jax made his deal with you…" He nods pointedly at Patterson. "Tara knew he'd be going to prison but wanted me to make sure you didn't screw him over. Now does that sound like a scorned wife trying to punish a cheating husband? Or a couple planning a future together after just a few years apart?"
"That only works if Teller knew that she hired you to represent him," Patterson points out, her dark eyes locked on Jax. "If not, then our theory could still prove true…"
Opening the door, Rosen holds it open for Jax. "And if you had a shred of proof to back up that theory, my client would be locked up and you guys would be all over the evening news patting yourselves on the back. We're done here. Next time, make sure you have a warrant."
"Penny for your thoughts." Squeezing Tara tighter against him, he presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. After all the strain and all the awful shit that they'd done to each other over the past couple of weeks, he'd worried if they'd ever find their way back this time.
But fate had granted him a gift, giving him the chance to make right some of the promises he'd broken to her, the chance to spend these last magical hours with her before they're separated for a long time. But not even a long, looming prison sentence could dampen his jubilant mood; not when he knows she'll be waiting for him and then they'll be together again. This time for good.
"Just a penny?" She arches a perfect brow as she smiles up at him. "This brain is worth more than that."
He runs his hands through her short, shiny hair. "You're right, Babe. I'd give you a billion dollars if I had it." Sliding his hands down her smooth back to her perfect ass, he cups those velvety soft globes. "As for the rest of you, there's not enough money in the world."
"You smooth talker," she giggles, tweaking his goatee. Then a shadow crosses her face and she looks away, biting down on her lip as a trace of hurt shimmers in her eyes.
"What is it?" He cups her cheek, urging her to face him - although he's got a sinking suspicion of what might be troubling her. For the millionth time, he curses himself for hurting her with that goddamn whore. "I'm so sorry, Tara. I wish I could take it all back…"
She shakes her head and forces a trembling smile. "After what I did…I guess I can't blame you. Just tell me you didn't like her too much."
Rolling over so that she's pinned under him, he stares down at the girl he's loved forever. "I didn't like her at all…she wasn't even there. Babe, since the day I first saw you in that bikini, I've been fucking women with your face in my head. They're all you, Tara. There's no one else for me but you - never has been or ever will be. I may have realized that I loved you when I was sixteen, but I've been yours since the day we met."
"Me too, Baby." She strokes his face, pulling his lips down to her for a smoldering kiss. "I've been Jax Teller's girl since the first day you kissed me in first grade. And I always will be."
"Thanks for dropping everything and getting here," Jax shakes Rosen's hand as they part ways in the parking lot; the near lifelong annoyance he's felt for Ben Rosen's snotty kid oddly absent for the first time. "I appreciate it."
The lawyer flashes him a wry smile. "That's my job. Although usually the DA's got more evidence before she starts spouting out wild conjectures. Must be something special about you."
"Yeah, I have that effect on people." Jax scratches his beard. "So what you said back there about Tara…could you get in trouble for it? I know hiring you was part of her original plan…when she wrote that stuff about me and The Club so our sons would go to Wendy if Tara went inside. But saying she hired you to fix the deal with Patterson…I've been lying to legal types my whole life, but lawyers like you…could be some bad shit."
Leaning against his car, Rosen runs a hand through his hair then looks at Jax with haunted eyes. "I didn't lie," he admits quietly. "Tara did come to see me that afternoon. Told me about the deal you made with Patterson and how her lawyer said the best you could hope for was parole in seven years. She wanted me to work with the DA to make sure you got that minimum time."
Floored, Jax stares at him. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I could claim Attorney-Client Privilege…" Rosen reminds him sadly. "But to be honest, it's not something I've found easy to live with…Since I found out she died that day, right after I saw her...All I keep thinking about is that I should've made her stay longer, took her out for a drink, bought her dinner, anything to stop her from going home…If she'd just stayed a little longer, maybe she'd still be…"
Jax shakes his head. "No, man. You can't blame yourself for what happened to Tara. She was planning to meet me at the house before I turned myself in to the DA then she was going to pick up the boys at the ice cream shop. You could've suggested all those things, but she wouldn't have stayed." He squeezes Rosen's shoulder before hopping on his bike and pulling on his helmet. "Besides, if I found out you asked my wife out on a date…I would've kicked your ass."
A small smile tugs at Rosen's lips as he nods slowly. "I did ask her out once…Right when she came back to town, you guys weren't back together yet. Turned me down flat. Always Jax Teller's girl."
"Always," Jax echoes feeling his lips twitch with an answering smile, which quickly fades as he watches Rosen drive away.
"There's something I need to take care of before I meet Eli and go back to the house and wait for you.
"…she came to see me after Jax made his deal…"
So Tara had gone to see Rosen after she left the motel that afternoon…Jax pinches the top of his nose as his head starts to throb again. Rosen's office is in Lodi so Tara could've easily gone to see him on her way back home, but then how long was the window between the time she got home and when Unser showed up at Scoops? Had there been enough time for Wendy and Unser to murder Tara and Roosevelt then for Unser to drive Wendy to rehab and back?
Holy shit, what if Wendy hadn't lied when she recanted her claim of seeing Tara that day? Unease rocks him; he'd planned on killing that junkie bitch for what she did to Abel and Tara and to get her festering stench out of their lives for good - but the belief that she'd killed Tara had led him to choose such a brutal death for her.
He still believes that the selfish bitch had killed Tara, who'd replaced her in Abel's life; who else could possibly have such a strong motive to brutalize Tara like that? Shrugging his troubled thoughts aside, he starts his bike and speeds out of the parking lot.
There's only one man who can answer his questions.