AN: Some of you may have noticed that all of the chapter titles from Part 1 & 2 so far have been quotes from Jax. There are two exceptions in the chapters ahead, both spoken by influential people in his life - both good and bad - during some highly emotional moments. This is the first, can you guess who said it?
"There you go, finding a hidden advantage in an unfortunate circumstance; using pain to take you to the next level. Those are the things that turn players into kings."
Chapter 17: USING PAIN TO TAKE YOU TO THE NEXT LEVEL
"Where the fuck is everyone?" Jarry fumes. "Is this some unofficial perps' vacation week that I don't know about?" Two arrest warrants - one for Juan Carlos Ortiz for murder and another for Charles Barosky for drug trafficking - have gone unserved for hours as both men seemed to have vanished into goddamn air. And of course, none of their close "associates" knew shit about where either man could be. So fucking frustrating.
She's close, so goddamn close to getting justice for Eli - not to mention finally putting away the bastard who's been a cancer to Stockton law enforcement for decades. And those charges against Barosky could be upgraded to murder once she proves that the slimy son-of-a-bitch had Colette Jane executed at Women's County to keep her from ratting on him.
So if this wasn't enough to make her want to beat the hell out of someone…the plans to talk to both Gemma Teller-Morrow and Margaret Murphy have gone to shit as well. When she and Cane had gone to St. Thomas to convince the hospital administrator to spill what she knew about Tara Knowles' relationship with her mother-in-law, the nurse at reception told them that Murphy had gone to a conference in Baltimore and wouldn't be back for a couple of days.
It'd been a set-back, but not enough of one to keep her from questioning the bitchy biker queen providing Juice with his bullshit alibi; Jarry was determined to shred that into fucking pieces. Unfortunately, like the fugitive biker and dirty ex-cop, Mama Teller's gone missing; she hadn't been home so they'd gone to her son's house only to find the fake-fingered weirdo and surly young biker babysitting Teller's sleeping kids.
Then they'd questioned the SAMCRO members found hanging out at the cream parlor that served as their crazy-ass clubhouse - a total fucking waste of time as none of them had shit to say that was of any use. The scarred, smooth-talking Scot had oh-so-politely offered to pass along any messages Jarry wanted to leave for Teller or Gemma. And she'd thanked him on-so-politely through clenched teeth, knowing all those tattooed fuckers were lying through their teeth. Assholes.
"Maybe it's time to call it a night, Boss." Cane rubs his eyes after hanging up the phone. "I just checked in with Martinez and Eglee; nothing happening at Teller's or his mom's house or the ice cream shop, for that matter. We've got APBs out on Ortiz, Barosky and Gemma Teller that span four counties; we'll get 'em in the morning."
Jarry hesitates then nods reluctantly. It's late, they've been at this for what feels like years so a couple hours of shut-eye might do them all some good. But come hell or high water, those fuckers are going down.
"They find him?" Lighting a cigarette, Jax squints at Chibs through the smoky haze; at his Brother's grim nod, he exhales and closes his eyes.
It's been one goddamn mindfuck of a night - between JT's damning letter and Reese's bombshell, it'd taken every ounce of his self-control to keep from surrendering to his rage, hunting down Gemma and…Fuck, he can't go there. Not yet. After possibly jumping the gun in blaming Wendy, Jax needs to make damn sure this time; he can't afford to make any mistakes with his mother.
So he'd called Chibs and asked him to tell the guys to find Juice and bring him to the cabin - keeping it all on the DL, not only from the cops but also because he doesn't want Juice tipped off to what's in store for him. Then he'd asked Chibs and Bobby to meet him there so he could talk to them while they waited. With barely restrained fury surging through him, Jax needs his closest Brothers to help him deal with yet another fucking horror exacerbating the nightmare that's now his life.
"Tig and Happy are on their way here with Juice." Chibs announces as Bobby slides shots of whiskey in front of them. "FYI, the Sheriff's got eyes on Scoops, your place and Gemma's. Those guys are no' too subtle."
Bobby slams back his shot then narrows his eyes at Jax. "So because the Sheriff suspects Juice killed Roosevelt, you think he killed Tara, too? What about Wendy?" He reaches for the bottle to pour himself another shot. "Shit, Jax."
"I don't know what to fucking think." Jax glances down at his wedding ring; Tara was always telling him how smart he was, how he could do anything - not today, no today's he's the biggest goddamn idiot to ever walk the planet. "Juice told Jarry he had an alibi for the murders…he said he was with Gemma - who confirmed it." He downs his shot, welcoming the whiskey's burn while both Chibs and Bobby gawk at him in surprise. "Maybe he's telling the truth, maybe they were together, maybe the Sheriff's grasping at anything to hide the fact she doesn't have shit…But then there's this…" Reaching into his pocket, Jax pulls out his dad's letter and tosses it on to the table.
Bobby reaches for the letter first, his eyes widening in confusion as he reads the names on the envelope. "One of your old man's letters…pointing the finger at Clay if anything happened to him? You avenged JT; why are you still carrying these around?"
"Not just Clay…" Jax takes a longer drag of his cigarette. "I found this in Tara's jewelry box; Gemma never let me read this one…and for good reason. My old man believed that both of them would kill him, Clay and my mother…" Bitterness fills his mouth, threatening to choke him as he watches Bobby then Chibs read the damning words.
Dropping the letter as if burned him, Chibs rubs his face with both hands. "Holy Christ…"
"Where are you going with this, Jax?" He can feel Bobby's eyes boring into him, as if trying to probe whatever murderous thoughts might be swirling in his brain. "You said you found this with Tara's things? Tell me you're not thinking that Gemma had anything to do with…"
"…killing my wife?" Jax spits out. "It's fucking impossible, right? But then…I wouldn't have thought in a million goddamn years that she would've been party to killing my old man…her own husband! The man she claimed to love." He sneers those last words as he crushes the paper in his hands. "And Tara knew all this shit; she had all the letters first…she must've kept this one knowing that Gemma would destroy the most damaging ones before giving them to me…"
Slamming his fist on the table, he shoots up in and starts pacing, the rage churning inside of him ready to explode. "I've been so fucking blind…Unser said Gemma was in bad shape before she took his truck, and Colette saw Unser's truck in our driveway right before Tara died…And all that bad shit between the two of them…It all fits, and I've been too goddamn fucking blind to see it!"
"And if you're right, she coulda been the one who killed Unser," Chibs deduces, shaking his head in disgusted disbelief - as if trying to grasp how a woman who'd been a close friend for decades could possibly be capable of such heinous betrayal. "To make sure he didna tell you she took his truck."
Jesus Christ. Jax plops back into his chair as Chibs' horrifying words sink into his brain; in all this fucking madness, he'd nearly forgotten about Unser. Could his mother be capable of killing her lifelong friend, the man who's loved her and stuck by her despite all the crazy shit in her life? The thought of it chills the blood boiling in his veins; if Gemma could gun down her best friend in cold blood just to save her ass, murdering Tara would've been nothing to her.
"We need to talk to Juice." Always the voice of reason, Bobby squeezes Jax's arm - no doubt highly aware of the violent fury burning so close to the surface, ready to erupt. "After he tells us what we need to know, then we decide what to do. JT…Tara…even Unser…they were part of us, part of what made this Club. Whoever killed them hurt us all."
Jax opens his mouth to tell them that he'll be the one deciding retaliation since no one's lost more than him - only to remain silent; he needs his Brothers support on something else. "After we finish this…no matter what happens…I'm done." Digging the heels of hands into his eyes, Jax can feel their intense stares searing his skin. "I need to do what I should've done a long time ago - get my family clear of this place, out of this life…if I had, Tara…she'd still be alive. My boys would still have their mother."
Looking up to face the two men who'd been his surrogate fathers even before JT crashed into that semi, Jax's somewhat surprised by their grim, yet knowing expressions - as if they'd been expecting this news for some time. But before he can say anything, the door bursts open as Tig shoves a bound and gagged Juice into the room.
"I lied to you before." Reese brushes at the chocolate smudges staining his suit jacket, left there by a lively, sugar-fueled Thomas Teller, who'd been all smiles and delighted giggles as his new friend showered attention all over him and Abel.
Eyeing Reese warily, Jax's not sure whether the guy's trying to remove the stain or rub it deeper into the expensive fabric. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me," he sneers wryly, shrugging on his sweatshirt and cut before heading for the door. Still reeling from the day's crushing blows, he's got no time for this fucking asshole.
"When I told you that I never saw Tara again after I left her in Chicago…that wasn't true."
What the fuck? Jax whirls around to find Reese still standing in the living room, hands jammed into his pockets as something akin to pain spreads across his face. Just thinking of Tara having any recent connection with this son-of-a-bitch, and the savage jealousy that Jax'd somehow managed to control breaks free, scorching him like acid. Only remembering his sons getting ready for bed down the hall stops him from pulling out his gun and shooting Reese dead. Jax doesn't need any fucking reminders of this prick's life with Tara; she belonged to him.
"When you were stabbed in prison, Tara visited you in the infirmary - worked with the prison doctor to make sure you received the best care possible. All off the record." Reese strides towards him, his cold eyes freezing Jax to the spot. "Have you ever wondered how she was able to manage that…a lowly medical resident from a small-town hospital?"
Barely conscious for the most part, Jax doesn't remember much from those dark days right after that Russian bastard shivved him; just the intense pain and Tara - her strong hand squeezing his, her soft voice whispering how much she loved him…How the fuck would Reese know about that? Unless…
"She told me that she got a favor from a friend." Jax hisses through his teeth as realization hits him like an ice cold blast; there was only one person Tara would've known with that kind of pull. "Any ideas who that could've been?"
Stepping closer until they're practically nose to nose, Reese narrows his eyes - the Batman band-aid standing out in odd contrast to his battered face and frosty gaze. "Things hadn't ended well between me and Tara in Chicago…and they didn't go so well when she came to my office - knocked up with your kid, begging me to help her get access to you. Can you imagine? I would've given her the world…and all she wanted was to take care of her convict baby daddy locked up in prison. It wasn't one of my more kindhearted moments."
Jax clenches his fists, fighting the urge to slam them into Reese's face at the thought of Tara, worried and desperate, at the mercy of this asshole's temper. "Yet you helped her anyway..." he grits out, more than ready to end this fucked-up trip down memory lane. The sooner Reese spills the rest of the shit he has to say, the sooner Jax can get to the cabin and get answers to the questions fucking with his brain. "Well the convict baby daddy thanks you…are we done reminiscing now? I got to go."
Reese opens the front door but stands in the threshold, blocking Jax's way. "I would've done anything for Tara…but the last words she ever heard from me - accusing her of throwing her life away..." He gazes pointedly down the hall towards the boys' bedrooms. "But I was wrong, Teller. I know what's important now…I hope you do, too. It's the least we can do for her."
Stunned into silence, Jax watches with mixed emotions as the other man Tara once loved walks out the door. Seconds later, he stalks outside towards his bike only to stop short when Reese turns around - despite the dim moonlight, Jax can see the cold fire glittering in the other man's eyes.
"I'm going to fry someone for killing Roosevelt - there's no stopping that," Reese informs him quietly. "But from where I stand, you've got a solid alibi and no clear motive." The Chief Deputy Attorney General glances once more at the home Tara had created for her family before pinning Jax with an ice blue stare. "I still expect justice to be done…whoever took her from us - whoever hurt her like that - has to pay."
Oh everyone involved with Tara's murder will fucking pay. Everyone.
Glaring into Juice's confused and panicked face, Jax pulls him to his feet then yanks out the rag stuffed in his mouth. "Have a seat." He motions to an empty kitchen chair, the quiet menace in his voice belying the gesture of hospitality. "We need to talk."
These past few days Jax hadn't given Juice much thought, hadn't paid much attention when Chibs told him that Juice's been twitchier, more distracted than ever. Chalking it up to the traitor's worry over what was going to happen to him for his disloyalty, Jax hadn't given a shit. After losing Tara, nothing fucking mattered except putting her killer into the ground and then getting his family out of this goddamn town. But now in retrospect, Jax should've corralled the fucker right after Colette told him about Unser's truck.
Well Juice's got his full attention now. "You know the Sheriff's looking for you?" Jax leans against the counter and crosses his arms, mainly to keep from beating the truth out of the Judas he once called Brother. "They think you might've killed Roosevelt…given your history with him and all."
Juice's eyes widen then dart around to Chibs, Bobby, Tig, Happy…as if maybe, just maybe he could find an ally or - even better - a way out of this deadly snake pit. But his face falls and shoulders tense as if realizing from his Brothers' cold, implacable faces that there's no fucking escape.
Shrugging, Juice faces Jax with a puzzled innocence that reeked of pure bullshit. "That's fucked up, man." He forces a laugh and shakes his head. "That bitch has it in for me, Jax. I don't know why, but she's been all in my shit about this…I didn't have anything to do killing that cop. Hell, I wasn't anywhere near your house when…" He clamps his mouth shut, as if not wanting to speak Tara's name aloud and remember the horror of her death.
"Yeah, I heard you were with Gemma…right here in this cabin, or at least that's what she told the Sheriff." Jax lights another cigarette, again to keep his hands busy so they don't wrap around Juice's throat and squeeze the life out of the lying rat. "But there's a little problem with that story…I was hoping that you could help clear that up, since you were with her."
Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he pushes away from the counter to stand in front of a clearly agitated Juice. Staring down at man he once called Brother, Jax doesn't bother to hide the accusation in his eyes or the rage steaming out of every pore. "There was a witness who saw Unser's truck right outside my house right as Tara came home, the witness even saw Roosevelt standing outside…You were there when Unser came to the ice cream shop and said Gemma took his truck…you went to look for her." His eyes probe Juice's now ashen face. "So now you see my problem? How could Gemma be here - at this cabin with you - when the truck she was driving was in my driveway?"
Juice's anxious gaze flits across the men hovering above him - silently begging someone, anyone, to save his worthless ass. "It's a mistake…the witness…whoever it was made a mistake…we weren't there…I swear, Jax…we…"
"Stop lying!" Jax roars, grabbing his terrified prisoner by the throat in one hand and pulling out his knife with the other. He presses the blade against Juice's cheek until blood trickles from the punctured skin. "You tell me the truth - right now - and I put this away…but if you lie to me again…" Jax lowers the knife until it's resting on Juice's crotch. "I slice your balls off and shove them down your throat...for starters. Are we clear?"
But Juice just gapes at him wordlessly until Jax nods at Tig, who's never backed down from any dirty work - no matter how fucked-up. "Jesus Christ...Stop! Goddamn it…Stop! Stop!" Juice screams, snapping out of his petrified stupor when Tig starts pulling open his fly. "Okay, okay…" Rocking back and forth, he starts to sob. "I'll tell you what you want to know…shit…oh shit…"
Jax watches impassively as Juice breaks down; maybe a long time ago he might've felt some pity for the younger man who'd tried so hard to fit in SAMCRO's dark world, but not now - not after what the bastard did to Miles, not after he'd ratted to the feds about Club business, not after he told Nero about Darvany…and definitely not after what the fucker's about to spill now. No, pity's not one of the intense, near-crippling emotions threatening to rip Jax apart; he knows now what Juice's going to tell them…he just needs to hear the goddamn words.
"I was with Gemma…that's not a lie…but we weren't here." Juice swipes at his wet face. "I got to your house, and Unser's truck was there - so I knew she was in the house. Roosevelt told me Tara was inside, too…and then it all happened so fast…We ran inside…there was blood everywhere…Tara was dead…Gemma'd killed her…said that Tara had ratted on you so she had to die…I'm sorry, Jax…oh Christ…" He rubs his eyes hard, as if trying to rid his brain of that horrific, blood-drenched scene - no doubt the same one that replays in Jax's nightmares every time he closes his eyes.
It's agonizing enough to suspect that his mother might've killed Tara, but to hear definitive confirmation…holy fucking shit! Growing up in SAMCRO, it'd been drilled into him since he got his Prospect cut to be ready to deal with any eventuality since life in the MC would never be ordinary. But nothing, fucking nothing in his whole goddamn life's ever prepared him for this - that the person he loves most in the world died brutally at the hands of the mother he's adored since birth. And for what? To keep his goddamn ass out of jail?
Desperately trying to hang onto his composure, despite the explosion of pain and rage torching every cell inside of him, Jax grips the closest chair, curling his fingers around the wood so hard he can feel the splinters digging into his skin. "And Roosevelt?" He hisses, barely able to hear himself over the roaring in his head
"I shot him," Juice admits quietly, almost proudly, as he straightens in his chair. "He was going to call it in, arrest Gemma." He stares at Jax imploringly. "I had to protect The Club. I thought that's what you would've wanted."
Jax's whisper thin control over his temper snaps as he lunges for Juice, hurling the cuffed man to the floor - ironically where Wendy's worthless life ended just a few days ago. But although Jax doesn't have any more mercy for Juice than he did for that fucking junkie bitch, he still needs the lying fucker for one more thing.
Shaking his head in outraged disbelief, he glares at Juice wriggling around on the floor like a fucking worm on a hook. "You thought I'd want you to cover up for the monster who murdered my wife? And then lie to me about it?! You sick piece-of-shit!" Unable to contain the volcanic burst of fury, Jax delivers a series of vicious kicks to Juice's ribs and back until Bobby drags him away, reminding them all that they can't kill a Member without a vote.
"So let's vote," Tig jumps in, his deadly blue eyes gleaming with malice as he raises his hand. "Aye!" He casts a vote echoed almost immediately by Happy.
"No, I don't want to kill him," Jax snarls, squatting on the floor beside the man writhing in pain and coughing up blood. "Listen to me, and listen carefully…No fuck-ups this time, or I will kill you - vote or no vote." He taps the Men of Mayhem patch on Juice's cut. "You want to protect The Club? Be worthy of this patch?" At Juice's slow nod, Jax pulls out his knife once again, this time to cut the rope binding the other man's hands. "Then this is what you have to do…"
"What do you mean you can't find your brother? Are you fucking kidding me?" His mom's eyes widen with fear and frustration. "Goddamn it, Jackson. I ask you to watch him for five minutes and…Jesus Christ!" She grabs his hand and starts marching down the sidewalk calling out Tommy's name.
Jax bites his lip, trying to rein in his own worry as he hurries along, trying to match his mom's long strides. She'd asked him to watch his little brother for a few minutes while she went into the drug store to pick up some "woman stuff" for Luann before they head to dinner at the Delany's house. Since Jax hated the smell of that place, he'd eagerly agreed to wait outside; besides, he's ten now - totally old enough to take care of himself and Tommy. Although maybe not. He'd walked away for a few minutes to admire a Harley parked down the street, assuming Tommy would follow him. But when he'd turned around to point out the super-cool custom work, his little brother had been nowhere in sight.
"I saw him go into the food mart." Floyd steps out of his barber shop and points to one of the stores across the street. "Nearly had a heart attack watching him run into traffic like that…" His mom's mouth drops open while Jax's stomach jumps into his throat. Oh crap, Tommy had crossed the street by himself - which means Jax'll be grounded until the next century.
"Why the hell would he want to come in here?" She mutters, stalking through the door with Jax at her heels. The store's tiny so they don't even bother splitting up to look for him, especially when the clerk looks up from her magazine to point towards the refrigerated section.
Walking towards the back wall, they can hear the giggles almost instantly…Tommy's and a female friend. "Now what do these boxes say?" Jax releases the breath he'd been holding at the sound of the familiar voice - Tara Knowles. He should've known; Tommy's been chasing after her since he learned to walk. His little brother must've seen her walking into the store and raced across traffic to be with her while Jax was drooling over the Dyna.
Turning the corner, he can see Tara - basket in hand - with Tommy trotting beside her like an eager puppy. "Eggs!" Tommy pipes up proudly. "Butter!"
"Wow, I didn't know Tommy could read," Jax grins proudly; judging from the stunned look on his mom's face, she didn't know either.
"You are the smartest kid in the world, Toms. We need eggs and butter to make our cookies." Tara ruffles his hair then straightens when she notices them standing there. "Oh hi, Mrs. Teller. Hi, Jax…" Turning back to the little blond boy at her side, she squeezes his shoulder. "Your mommy and big brother are here. They must've been looking for you."
But to Jax's surprise, Tommy scowls at them then presses closer to Tara's side. "I wanna stay with you." He whines, burying his face in her sweatshirt.
"Thomas Wayne Teller!" Oh damn…it's Gemma Teller's 'I've had enough of your shit' voice that could scare monsters. "Get over here right now! It's time to go." Her annoyed glare follows the pouting four-year-old as he trudges across the floor towards them then snaps back to skewer Tara. "What are you doing here by yourself? Where's your father?"
Jax clasps Tommy's hand then shrugs helplessly at Tara; clearly his mom wasn't in the know about Old Man Knowles. Opie told him that, since Tara's mom died a couple of months ago, her dad didn't do shit except go to work and then to the bars in Lodi - if he wasn't already passed out drunk at home. So Tara pretty much had to do everything by herself, which really wasn't too different from when her mom was alive.
"Worthless sack of shit…" Jax's not sure whether his mom's talking about the driver who'd just cut them off, forcing her to slam on the breaks, or if she's still seething about Tara's old man - at home to "fixing stuff" while his kid walked two miles to buy their groceries. It's not anything he didn't already overhear Mary and Piney grumbling about on a weekly basis, but Tara's got no other family, so it's either staying with her drunk asshole dad or go into foster care. After the scandal in Stockton last year when some foster kids died, no one wanted to suggest it for Tara.
On the bright side - his mom's so pissed at Tara's old man, she'd forgotten that Jax'd temporarily lost his little brother (at least he hopes so).
"Rain!" Tommy squeals, bouncing up and down in his car seat as a torrential downpour bursts from the sky, plastering their car with thick sheets of pounding water. Frowning, Jax stares gloomily out the window. Shit, there goes racing bikes with Opie and Lowell; Otto had promised that they could go to the dirt piles after dinner and he'd give them some tips. No way his mom's gonna let them do that in the rain.
Then suddenly he feels the car turning around. "Where we going?" Mystified, he watches as she expertly maneuvers the steering wheel with her gaze glued out the window. Shaking his head, he settles back into his seat and closes his eyes; she'd been bitching about being late to Luann's dinner, now she wants to make another stop? Dad's right, there's no understanding women.
Minutes later his eye snap open as they careen to a stop and his mom rolls down her window. "Get in," she barks at someone who Jax can't see from his passenger side view. "I don't give a fuck about getting shit wet. Just shut up and get in this car…Right now!"
The back door swings open and - to his surprise and Tommy's delight - Tara climbs inside. Soaked to the skin, she sits on the edge of the seat with her sodden grocery-filled backpack on her lap, as if trying to limit the amount of space she drenches with her wet clothes.
It's a short drive to Tara's house - actually too short. Forgetting he's a grown man of ten, Jax can't stop laughing as Tommy and Tara belt out some stupid song about cookies that his little brother learned on "Sesame Street." Twisting around in his seat so he can watch them, Jax darts a glance over at his mom - surprised to see her fingers tapping in rhythm on the steering wheel; who knew the tough-as-nails Queen of SAMCRO had a soft spot for Muppet music.
The rain stops as abruptly as it started, just as they pull into Tara's driveway. Determined not to keep them from their plans any longer, Tara pecks Tommy quickly on the forehead then scrambles out of the car - thanking them profusely for the ride. Hauling her soggy backpack over her shoulder, she starts walking towards her front door only to turn around and flash the smile that always makes his heartbeat kick up a notch and his bones feel all warm and melty. Most of the time she saves that smile for Tommy, but this time those warm green eyes fix on his mother…and oddly enough, Gemma Teller smiles back.
"Hey, Buddy…" Jax squats in front of Tommy's grave marker, running his hand across the smooth stone. After the crushing confrontation with Juice, he'd ordered Chibs and Happy to stick tight with Juice at the cabin and Bobby and Tig to track down Gemma. When they'd insisted on tailing him, Jax'd snapped that they needed to find her before the cops did. In the meantime, he had to handle something personal.
"For the first time, I'm actually glad you're not here to see all this crazy shit...But if you knew what she did to Dad and Tara…" His voice hitches as his tortured brain once again flashes back to holding Tara's lifeless body - her blood seeping through his clothes, staining his skin - then the heartbreaking, brutal crime scene report with the x-rays of her fractured skull. Both his father and his wife suffered protracted, excruciating deaths at the hand of the woman he once called mother.
Wiping the wetness from his eyes, Jax grips the marker tightly, as if squeezing his baby brother's hand. "I just hope you understand…what I have to do next."
"What are you doing up here? I've been looking everywhere for you." Jax strides across the rooftop to where Tara's huddled on the ground, knees pressed into her chest. Plopping down next to his girlfriend of exactly three-and-a-half months (or so she announced this morning right before gifting him with a very special "wake up" present that's left him half-hard all day), he wraps an arm around her and presses a kiss to her forehead.
Remaining silent, Tara just burrows against his chest, setting off alarm bells in his beer-fogged head. "Babe, you're still not upset about before, are you?" Although he's got a sinking feeling that he knows the answer.
It's the first Club party he's taken her to since getting his Prospect cut a couple of weeks ago; Jax's still not sure how much he wants her exposed to SAMCRO and the realities of life in the MC. Still reeling from all the shit he's learned so far, Jax's not saying or doing a goddamn thing that could send her running from him. But tonight's a special occasion - Bobby's birthday, an annual bash his Brothers look forward to every year. Besides, his mom had specifically asked him to bring Tara - which should've been his first clue that shit would go sideways before the end of the night.
His girl had been both ecstatic and fretful that Gemma Teller, Queen of SAMCRO, had specifically invited her - even asked her to bring to bring something they could serve to the guests, like all the other Old Ladies (even though Tara wouldn't be an Old Lady until he got patched-in). He'd smiled at her excitement, but her anxiety had baffled him.
"Tara it's just a party…we throw them every week, it's no big deal." Sitting at her kitchen table, he'd both laughed and rolled his eyes while she scrambled around like Betty Crocker on steroids. "Besides everyone's going to be fucking wasted - I don't know why you're so freaked out over pasta…"
Actually 'freaked out' might've been an understatement given the hours she'd spent researching recipes then parking herself in the kitchen last night to make the "perfect" lasagna (instead of paying attention to her poor, sexually deprived boyfriend). It's especially crazy since she barely knows Bobby, only meeting him for the first time a couple weeks ago at Jax's Prospect party. Then to top off the shit show, he had to drive a cage to the Clubhouse because she couldn't carry the dish on the back of his bike. Christ, who knew he'd be so pussy-whipped at sixteen?
"You said your mom wanted me to bring something," she'd reminded him as they walked across the parking lot to the Clubhouse. "Opie told me that Bobby likes Italian food, and lasagna's his favorite." Stopping in the doorway, she'd gazed up at him, her beautiful green eyes wide and worried. "You're sure it tasted okay? You didn't just say that just to be nice?"
He'd laughed and tried to soothe her wrinkled forehead with his thumbs. "Babe, I don't think there's a soul in town who'd accuse me of being nice." And to prove his point, he'd devoured her mouth until all the whistles and catcalls had her blushing and pushing him away.
Speaking of someone no one would ever describe as "nice," Gemma had glared at the covered pan in Tara's hands with ill-disguised annoyance. "Oh…I already made Bobby's favorite." Nodding towards the half-dozen pans of lasagna already laid out on the tables, his mother had taken the pan from Tara and turned to walk towards the kitchen. "Come with me. This can go in the fridge in case we run out."
Jax had gone to greet Bobby and had just accepted a beer from Clay when a loud crash had him running towards the kitchen. Apparently Tara's lasagna never made it to the fridge; instead the kitchen floor looked like a grisly crime scene with blood red sauce, meat and pasta noodles splattered everywhere - and Gemma wiping her hands with a dish cloth, apologizing for being so "goddamn clumsy."
One look at Tara's crestfallen face then the satisfied gleam in his mother's eyes and Jax's temper threatened to burst out of his skin; only Tara's hand on his arm and her cool voice insisting it was an accident had stilled the anger building inside him. Then she'd speared SAMCRO's Queen with blazing green eyes before politely asking for a mop to help clean up the mess. After fifteen years of her father's tender mercies, it'd take more to faze his girl than Gemma's bullshit hazing. Or so he thought.
Cupping her face, he feels the wetness on her cheeks and frowns. "Hey, what's this? Come on, Tara…You said it was an accident. Did something else happen?" He'd tried to keep her with him for most of the night, an impossible feat given how many times he had to run and do his Brothers' and his Mother's bidding. Had Gemma or anyone else messed with her while he wasn't looking?
"You and your mom have always been so close…" Tara pulls away from him and swipes at her eyes. "I know you listen to her - what she says means a lot to you…"
Where the hell's she going with this? Confused, he scans her face trying to read what he can in the dim light. "Babe, what are you talking about?"
"Everything I do and say is wrong." A fresh wave of tears spills down her face. "She hates me, Jax. Your mom hates me. She thinks I'm wrong for you. I'm just afraid that she'll convince you that…"
Shaking his head, Jax hauls her into his arms. "Stop right there, Knowles." He runs his fingers through silky dark hair then pulls back to scowl fondly at her. "I've always thought that you're the smartest person I know…but Babe, if you honestly believe that my mom could change the way I feel about you…well then maybe you're not so smart after all."
Tara sniffles then blinds him with a smile so bright that he's still a bit dazed when he feels those nimble fingers plucking at his fly. "I love you too, Baby." She rubs her hands up and down his bare dick then pulls the condom out of his back pocket before sliding his jeans down his ass.
"Here?" Jax grins then darts a quick glance down at the drunk revelers down in the lot below, anyone could look up and see them…not that he gives a shit, he decides as Tara hands him the condom so she could strip off her camisole and shimmy out of her cutoffs and panties.
Stretching out atop their discarded clothes, she licks her lips then shoots him a saucy smile as he slides the condom over his stiff cock with eager fumbling hands. "Come here, Baby," she beckons, wrapping her arms and legs around him - moaning loudly when he slams inside of her again and again.
Jax's known happiness before, pleasure too. But nothing, fucking nothing in his life - past or present - could ever remotely compare to what he feels when connected to Tara. Burying his face between her breasts, he sucks a lush mound into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the thick pink tip.
Her fingers tangle in his hair, as he suckles her other breast, licking and lashing at the ultra-sensitive rosy nipple. "Oh fuck, Tara…" Jax hisses as she spreads herself wider to rub her clit against him - meeting his hard thrusts until she screams, scorching his cock with a flood of soaking heat.
"Jax, oh god, Jax! Jax!"
"Goddamn it, Jax…."
The last voice didn't sound like Tara, but he's too far gone to give a fuck - not with her hands clenching his flexing ass, pushing him deeper inside of her until he explodes, collapsing on top of her - not with her wet spasms squeezing and milking him until he's bone dry and gasping for air.
"You two need to get dressed and get your goddamn asses down to the party." Despite his near inability to move a muscle, Jax rolls his eyes at his mom's disapproving tone. Like she's some moral pillar - fucking Clay a week of JT getting put into the ground. "And Clay's looking for you…Prospect," she grits out, reminding him of his responsibilities before storming off.
"Yeah, she hates me all right…" Tara buries her face in his shoulder, no doubt horrified at getting caught having naked sex out in the open by her boyfriend's mother.
Summoning his last scraps of strength, he rolls them over on to their sides so he can stare into that gorgeous face. "Don't worry about her…I love you, Tara. That's never going to change." He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and caresses her velvety cheek. "I promise, Babe. She'll never come between us. Not ever."
Turning towards the rosebush he'd planted just days ago, Jax reaches over to stroke one of the soft petals; maybe it's his imagination or a trick by the moonlight, but the bush looks thicker with more roses - larger and lusher - blooming from the branches. It wouldn't surprise him if the bush had flourished, planted atop Tara's ashes; she always made everything so much better.
"Whoa, where's the fire Little Man?" Closing the front door, Jax steps aside just in time to prevent Abel from barreling into his leg. He loves coming home to the excited welcomes from his soon-to-be-wife and kids, but judging from the cotton balls and band-aids that'd dropped from Abel's hands, this wasn't one of those greetings.
Shrieking with distress, Abel drops to his knees and scrambles to gather all of his spilled supplies. "Gramma got an ouchie. I help Mommy." With that rushed explanation, Tara's little blond helper dashes into the kitchen.
Life's never boring at the Teller house; Jax sighs as he stalks into the kitchen to see this injury for himself. Hopefully it's not too serious; Tara's still adjusting to her cast, there's no way she could actually stitch anyone up with just her left hand. Gemma should know that
Actually he's a little surprised to see his mother sitting at the kitchen table, chatting with Tara - just like old times; ever since the series of mindfucking events that kept them from leaving Charming and led him to taking the gavel, Tara and Gemma's relationship deteriorated to a point worse than ever before - forcing him in the middle, again.
But from his vantage point in the doorway, there's no trace of their usual animosity; most likely because of Tara's unspoken, yet firm rule that there be no fighting or raised voices in front of the boys; Frank Knowles' daughter didn't want her sons to know the fear and stress that angry adults could inflict.
"Hi Baby." Pouring some liquid into a small bowl, Tara looks up and beams at him before turning back to Abel, who's bouncing up and down with cottons balls in each hand. "Ok, sweetie, dip those cotton balls into this bowl. Carefully, just like this…" Tara instructs the world's youngest nurse. "Then we'll use them to clean Grandma's ouchie."
Pecking Tara's lips and ruffling Abel's hair, Jax's eyes then dart back to his mother, whose holding a rag to her hand. "What happened?" He strolls over to Thomas, who's sitting in his high chair gobbling goldfish crackers, and presses a lingering kiss to his baby boy's head.
"Stupidity," Gemma answers flippantly, nodding towards a package and small knife. "I couldn't open that damn box."
Shit, it doesn't take a fucking rocket scientist to see his mom's high again; she's been like this since all that shit went down with Clay…But unlike Tara, who's got no patience for his mother's downward spiral, Jax can't help but feel some pity for everything she's gone through. No longer Queen of SAMCRO - with no husband and no money - Gemma Teller-Morrow clearly has no idea what to do with the rest of her life, aside from getting drunk and get high every night.
"Now press the cotton ball to Grandma's finger…Softly so you don't hurt her…" A smile tugs at Jax's lips as he watches Abel - his brow furred with concentration - carefully dabbing at the small cut with the four soaked cotton balls he'd lined up on a plate.
Gazing at Tara, Jax feels his pulse actually skip a beat at the sight of her beaming proudly at her little intern. "And once it's clean…what do we do next?"
"Band-aid!" Abel chirps excitedly, waving the thin strips in his hand - and thrilling his little brother as well; Thomas tosses his crackers aside to reach for the brightly colored adhesive decorated with Batman logos.
But Abel shakes his head firmly. "No, Tommy. Only for ouchies…" Then with Tara's help, he carefully unwraps the band-aid and affixes it to his Grandma's finger. "All better now."
All better now - or so he hopes this could be the start of his Old Lady and his mother turning around their relationship again. Surely it means something that Tara would let Gemma crash on the futon in Thomas' room while she made dinner. Usually Tara didn't want the boys exposed to anyone obviously drunk or high - understandable given her own childhood, but for some reason, she'd wavered today.
"It's her anniversary…" Tara reminds him quietly, stirring the spaghetti sauce while he empties the noodles in the boiling water. "Hers and Clay's. So I called her and asked her to come over…said I needed help opening that box. Fortunately, she didn't kill herself driving over here."
Who knew the bad-ass President of SAMCRO could still feel all warm and melty inside? Christ, she's been doing that to him since grade school. Pulling her into his arms, he fuses his mouth to hers, consuming her until they're both shaking and gasping for breath. "How could I forget?" He squeezes her ass. "My girlfriend showed up with nothing on under her totally sexy dress…Saved me from what could've been one of the worst nights ever."
Cupping her cheek, he stares into those mesmerizing eyes. "I love you, Tara. I know it's totally selfish, but I'm so glad you decided to stay…I don't think I could do any of this without you here."
She tweaks his goatee before brushing her lips against his. "I love you, too, Baby. And to be honest, I don't do too well without you either. Our family needs to be together."
"Totally agree…" He nips her plump lower lip. "And now we've established that, maybe we can start talking about…you know, adding to our family." Reaching for her hand, he presses a kiss to her knuckles. "We're still missing our little dark-haired girl…Come on, Babe - the world needs another beautiful, brilliant Tara Grace."
Tossing her head in a fit of giggles, she swats his arm lightly. "Jax…I do want another baby with you. But maybe we should wait until I can use both hands, okay?" She taps her thick cast. "Otherwise, you'll be doing all the diaper duty."
"As for your mother…" She tilts her head in the direction of Thomas' room, where Gemma's passed out. "I'm willing to cut her some slack…Believe it or not, but I love her too. She meant a lot to me while you were inside, but I can't risk our sons' safety...or any other child we have. You know what I mean, Jax…" Her fingers brush the President's patch on his cut. "The night you took over the Club, sat in the President's chair…you promised me that you'd never forget your family. That no matter what, you'd put us first. I trusted you then, Baby, and I trust you now."
"I'm so sorry, Babe. I should've listened to you a long time ago…" Jax rakes the cool soil with his shaking fingers. "There's nothing I wouldn't give to make this right, Tara…I just wish I would've taken you and boys out of here before…I just didn't want to believe that my own mother could ever…I'm so sorry…so goddamn sorry…" Feeling his composure crack apart, he buries his face into his arm, shaking uncontrollably.
His cell phone buzzes with an incoming text, this one he doesn't ignore. Pressing a kiss to a patch of green grass edging the rosebush, Jax exhales loudly before rising to his feet. "I love you, Tara. More than anything."
Ironically Clay had been the one to teach him the finer points of lying in wait for a victim. Jax'd been a Prospect for almost six months when SAMCRO retaliated against a group of Mayan soldiers who'd attacked and killed three Nomads carrying a new shipment of AK's up to Tacoma.
"Surprise is the key…and the challenge. They know we're coming - they're expecting it, they're ready for it. But what exactly are they ready for? If we know that, then we know the adjustments we have to make so we can surprise the goddamn shit out of these fuckers."
Lighting a cigarette, he watches her approach. First she glances towards JT's marker, like she always does when they're here. Before, he'd believed it'd been for the same reasons he'd gravitated to that and Tommy's graves - to say hello, to tell them how much they're missed every day. But now Jax wonders what goes through her evil, fucked-up mind when she looks at his father's grave, knowing that she helped put him there.
Upon leaving the cabin he'd called her, told her to meet him at Tommy's grave and not to say anything to anyone. He told her that the Sherriff's looking for him, staking out his house - and hers - as well as the ice cream shop so they can arrest him. But those cops wouldn't think to look for him in the cemetery. No one would.
"Hi Baby." She stands in front of Tommy's marker and brushes her hand across the stone. "Jax? Are you here?" No doubt she can smell his cigarette…which is fine, it's good that she know he's here. Just not what he plans to do to her.
Stepping out from behind the tree, Jax silently sidles up behind her and exhales a cloud of smoke into the air before breathing into her ear. "Hello, Gemma."