Chapter 18: THE LAST PIECE OF A VERY BROKEN PAST
"What the hell are you doing here?" Jarry crosses her arms and glares as Reese rolls down the window of his black SUV. She'd been walking out of St. Thomas after yet another one of Patterson's bullshit errands when she saw the Golden Boy's gleaming Range Rover - Nick Reese exceled at many things, blending into the background wasn't one of them. "Did Patterson send you to check up on me?"
Walking into her office this morning, Jarry had barely sipped her coffee before a deputy popped his head in to tell her that the DA was on the phone. After the terse call with Patterson, it'd taken all her self-control not to hurl the full coffee cup against the wall - yet another goddamn delay. She'd planned to get the status on the search for Ortiz and Barosky then hopefully roll out with the squad to tag one or both of those fuckers. But no, Patterson had ordered her to head to St. Thomas immediately; apparently Stockton PD had finally matched one of the bullets found at the Mayan Clubhouse with those recovered from Nero Padilla.
The DA wanted her to question Padilla in hopes that the ex-con, while doped up on painkillers, might slip up and divulge SAMCRO's involvement in the "deadly" shoot-out which, to date, hasn't produced any victims (that Stockton PD could find) - or so Jarry reminded her, to no avail. Patterson's still determined to lock up Teller - supposedly to save Sanwa County from his murderous retaliation, but now Jarry wonders if the DA's still pissed that Rosen managed to extract the SAMCRO President from the deal to turn himself in for the school shootings.
Well it's all moot now; apparently the DA and the Sanwa Sheriff's Department need better connections at the area hospitals because Padilla died yesterday and no one at St. Thomas gave a thought to alerting law enforcement. The news sent Jarry's already crap mood spiraling further down the shitter; no doubt Patterson will chew her ass for not leaving a man at St. Thomas to watch Padilla - even though Reese specifically ordered them to drop this in order to focus on nailing Dr. Knowles' and Roosevelt's killer(s). What a fucking mess.
And speaking of the devil, Reese pulls off his sunglasses to return her scowl. "I could ask you the same thing, Lieutenant. I thought you were supposed to be hunting Juice Ortiz; I seriously doubt he'd be hanging out here."
She opens her mouth to let him have it; fuck the fact that Nick Reese could have her busted back down to writing parking tickets in Yuba City - she's fucking done with being the ball in this goddamn power ping pong game between him and Patterson. But she holds her tongue as his gaze shifts from her to an SUV entering the parking lot.
"Any news on the search?" Those cool blue eyes flick back to her, although she senses his attention remains with the SUV pulling into a spot. Interesting…was Mr. Perfect actually stalking someone?
Jarry pulls out her phone and shows him the screen filled with texts from her deputies staked out at various locations where their prey could show up. "Nothing yet, but we got eyes everywhere he could be. Although now I'm thinking we should extend the search perimeter beyond just the four counties…SAMCRO has allies up and down the West Coast."
Reese quirks a brow in surprise. "You think that Teller knows that you're hunting one of his guys? Why would he protect someone who might be involved in his wife's murder?"
There it is again, that ever-so-slight hitch in Reese's tone when he talks about Tara Knowles' murder. At first, Jarry thought she'd imagined it; despite knowing Nick for years, she's no expert at what really makes the man tick. But after nearly two decades carrying a badge, she's pretty goddamn good at sniffing out people who're hiding something - and now she's starting to think there's more to this case for Nick Reese than just a fast track to the Governor's Mansion for his boss, then him.
But before she can answer, Reese's face contorts with pure horror as he violently throws open his car door, nearly breaking her knees in the process. "Call for back-up, NOW!" he screeches running full speed towards the other SUV just as the sound of gunshots and screaming children pierce the air.
"Hey, I was sure your mom was going to ground your ass…she was sure pissed last night." Alone in the Winston's open garage, Opie slides out from under the car and grins as Jax parks his bike in the driveway.
"Pissed" might've been an understatement to describe his mom when she confronted Jax this morning - "frothing at the mouth" would be more apt. She'd pounced on his ass the second he'd crawled through his bedroom window this morning - shrieking at him for scaring the shit out of her, first by not calling to check in then by not coming home last night. Especially since everyone, including Opie and all his friends, had been at the Club party.
"Do you know how many fucking enemies your father had?" She'd railed at him. "Do you have any goddamn idea how many psycho animals there are who'd jump at the chance to hurt SAMCRO through you?"
Jax'd felt a tiny jolt of remorse for worrying her, but he couldn't regret what he'd done last night - not in a billion years. Skipping the Club party to be with Tara…a smile twists his lips as he recalls the surprise on her beautiful face when he'd declared that he wanted more than friendship with her, that he'd wanted it for so long. That smile broadens at the memory of how warmly she'd melted into his arms and against his lips. No, he couldn't regret the best night of his life (so far, once she lets him inside of her - that will be the best ever).
Shrugging, Jax darts a quick glance at Tara's house before striding into the garage and plopping into an empty chair. "I'm a little too old to be grounded." Which was total bullshit since Gemma actually did ground him for the weekend then dragged him to TM to be slave labor for the morning. But always crafty, he'd managed to escape by convincing Piney, his warden for the day, that he wasn't feeling well and that maybe Mary could make him some of her great chicken soup for lunch. Piney had glared in disbelief before rolling his eyes and ordering him to get the hell out before he infected everyone.
"Yeah, Pop called and said you're not feeling so good." Opie smirks, wiping his hands on a rag. "So I told mom that she might need some help making that 'great chicken soup' - Hey, Tara, our little sick boy is here!"
Jax immediately perks up in his chair, feeling his pulse race and his dick swell at the sight of her, dressed in a tank top and cut-offs. Although he's pretty fucking sure he'd have the same reaction if she'd been wearing a potato sack - especially now that he knows how beautiful she looks under those clothes, how amazing her bare skin feels against his, how delicious her kiss tastes.
"Hi there," she greets him softly, brushing her hand across his forehead. "Hmmm, you do feel a little warm. No wonder you didn't want to spend the day at the garage."
His gaze drifts from her dancing green eyes to her cleavage peaking above her tank top; shit, just a few short hours ago, he'd fondled those bare breasts with his eager hands, had licked and sucked those pale pink nipples with his greedy mouth. Holy shit, Jax swallows hard before he starts drooling.
"You got something to make me feel better?" Mesmerized by the creamy perfection of her beautiful face, he picks up her hand and rubs his thumb back and forth across her palm. In the distance he can hear Opie snort at such as cheesy pick-up line, but it's impossible to think of anything brilliant to say when his brain's short-circuiting.
Tara giggles, shooting electric sparks sizzling through him. But before she can respond, Mary's voice echoes into the garage alerting them that the soup's boiling. Extracting her hand from his, Tara strokes his cheek. "I'm sure I can think of something," she murmurs against his mouth, brushing her plump lips against his. Then shooting him a saucy smile, she turns and saunters back inside leaving Jax to stare after her, slack-jawed and hard as fucking hell.
"Holy shit, you've really got it bad…" Opie guffaws throwing the rag at him.
Still staring in the direction Tara had gone, Jax licks his lips tasting the faint sweetness of her. "Yeah," he whispers distractedly. "Yeah, I do." Before, the intensity of these new feelings for his lifelong friend had freaked him out; now, Jax embraces the thrill of being with Tara, he can't fucking wait to see what the future will bring for them.
"Goddamn it, you scared the fucking shit out of me, Jackson!" Gemma presses a shaking hand against her chest. "After everything that's happened…I just can't take anymore."
Jax grits his teeth until he tastes blood. She can't take anymore? This goddamn bitch who'd arranged for his father - her own husband - to die a brutal death, crushed by a semi; who'd viciously stabbed his wife so hard and so many times that she'd split Tara's skull. He clenches his fists to keep from wrapping his hands around her fucking neck and sending her to hell where she belongs. Soon, he promises himself…soon.
"Unser's dead." Taking another long drag of his cigarette, Jax watches as an array of emotions flash across her face; usually Gemma could be as stone cold as anyone wearing a cut and a patch, but Unser had been special to her. Special - just like JT and Tara.
Gemma covers her mouth as tears pour from her eyes. "What? How? Who'd want to kill Wayne? He was a harmless old man. Oh god…" She launches herself at Jax, sobbing into his shoulder hugging him tight - oblivious to his arms hanging rigidly at his sides.
"Maybe not too harmless," Jax answers coldly, extracting himself from her tight grasp, no longer able to bear the grip of the poisonous viper. "Maybe there were things he knew that could hurt someone…expose someone…someone who'd do anything, any goddamn thing to get what she wanted."
Stepping back, Gemma gapes at him. "Jackson…what are you saying? Jesus Christ, you can't be serious…I'd never hurt Wayne. Never!"
"Like you'd never hurt Dad? Wasn't killing him your idea? Then you fucked Clay so he'd do your dirty work?" He grabs her arm before she can slap him, even in the darkness he could see her panic - she reeked of it.
Pulling the damning letter from his pocket, he waves it in her face. "When you gave me dad's letters, you must've thought you got rid of all the ones pointing the finger at you…but you never saw this one, did you? '…my death will come at the hands of my wife and best friend.'" He snarls the words burned into his memory.
"No, Jax…Clay killed your father! Clay ordered Lowell Sr. to sabotage John's bike. I didn't know anything about it!" Gemma reaches for the letter, but Jax shakes his head and shoves it back in his pocket. No fucking way he'd allow Gemma to get her bloody hands on his father's final letter. "Listen to me, Jackson…" He can sense her steeling herself, preparing to spew more self-serving lies. "John was going to end the gun deal with the Irish…and Clay said it would destroy SAMCRO…"
"And you knew all about that, didn't you?" Jax sneers. "Dad wrote in his journal that the only way Old Ladies make it is if you tell them everything or tell them nothing…And you knew everything, didn't you? Every goddamn thing! So don't go trying to sell me some bullshit about being in the dark…You were Clay's Old Lady while Dad was still alive."
She sucks in her breath then straightens, the panic morphing into the defiant bravado that was as much a part of Gemma Teller-Morrow as her arms and legs. "You should understand, Jackson. You're President now, you sit at the head of the table…You know better than most that sometimes what we have to make difficult, very difficult decisions to protect The Club. I loved John…he, you and Tommy - the three of you were my whole world. But after your little brother died, your father changed…he wanted to destroy everything we'd built - your legacy and that of your sons. We couldn't let him do that. He had to be stopped."
The rage boiling his blood instantly freezes in his veins as he listens to her justify JT's murder with such cold, calculating reason. Holy goddamn shit, he'd used the same rationalization himself with Darvany and the dozens of executions he'd ordered since taking the gavel - anything and everything to protect SAMCRO. Christ, he could've honored the deal to give up the Irish to Patterson and spare Tara the anguish over her trial and possible prison sentence. But instead he'd killed Galen O'Shay to frame him for Clay's murder then brokered the deal to cede control of the guns to Marks - all to insulate and protect SAMCRO.
Closing his eyes, he runs a shaking hand across his face as painful realization slashes at him - he wasn't John Teller's son…he was Gemma's.
"You are a truly beautiful man, Teller…" Tara slips into the shower with him, curling a hand around one of his biceps and sliding another down his back to squeeze his ass. "But that's not why I'm marrying you…" She lifts her hand to her lips and kisses the engagement ring he'd slid onto her finger just a half hour before. "It's this…" Her fingers crawl up his chest to flatten atop his Abel tattoo. "You have the most beautiful heart, Baby." She strokes his skin as his pulse starts pounding. "You didn't start loving me until you were sixteen, but I…" She presses a lingering kiss to his chest. "I've loved this beautiful heart all my life…and always will."
"But you didn't kill Unser to protect your secret about JT…did you, Gemma?" Jax hisses, stepping closer to her. "There's only one reason why you'd murder the one man who's stood by you all these years. You said it yourself, Unser always tried to look out for Tara…I can't imagine he'd stand pat and let her murderer get away."
Gemma shakes her head as a nervous laugh escapes her lips. "For the last time - I didn't kill Unser. I loved him - he was my best friend. Besides, aren't you forgetting something? Wendy killed Tara…you already got justice for your wife. I was there, remember?" She tries to light a cigarette but her shaking hand fumbles and drops her lighter.
"Wendy fell victim to her own lies…That stupid bitch got what she deserved after what she put my family through, but she didn't kill Tara…" Flicking his own lighter, he holds it against her cigarette until the filter burns orange in the dim moonlight. Then turning towards the rosebush, Jax strokes the velvety petals before squatting to retrieve a flat paper bag.
Rising, Jax steps closer and stares hard at the monster who murdered his wife. "Do you remember how bad Tara had it as a kid? For years, nobody did a fucking thing while her dad beat the shit out of her…until the day that bastard almost killed her."
"Jax, where the hell are you going with all this?" Gemma backs away, as if sensing the violence ready to erupt from him. "Listen to me, Baby, I…"
"Don't call me that!" He roars, grabbing her throat. "Don't you ever call me that!" Dropping his other arm, he grasps what's inside tightly then shakes the bag until it falls to the ground. "Did you know that I stole one of JT's guns? I was going to threaten Old Frank…tell him that I'd kill him if he ever hurt her again. And you know what? I would've done it. I would've killed that fucking son-of-a-bitch with a goddamn smile on my face. Except Dad stopped me."
Jax lifts his arm to reveal a carving fork clutched tightly in his hand. "But anyone who's ever hurt her since…well they've all paid for it. And so will you," he snarls, grabbing her tightly when she tries to break free then throwing her violently to the ground.
"Jax, I don't know who's feeding you this bullshit but…"
"Shut up!" Dropping to his knees beside her, Jax slams his hand over her mouth, muffling her cries of pain and denial. Staring into Gemma's terrified face, he shrugs aside any lingering shreds of sentimentality that might weaken him against the woman he once loved with everything inside of him. "Just shut the fuck up."
Jax presses the tips of the fork against her cheek until blood drips from the puncture wound, just like he'd done earlier to Juice. "You know, the Sherriff never recovered the murder weapon you used, but the ME's report suggested a carving fork - just like this one. And Juice confirmed it - including how he got rid of it...for you."
Rolling her over, Jax sits on her spine to restrain her squirming body; he wraps one hand around her throat and presses the fork against her scalp, increasing the pressure until he she yelps in pain. "Tell me Gemma…Did you enjoy shoving the fork into Tara's head again and again? Did you get off listening to her scream in pain? Did it make you feel like a goddamn Queen when you split her skull?"
"No! No! Jax, please don't do this…please...please!" Gemma claws at his hand gripping her throat.
The red haze clouding his vision intensifies as his rage ratchets up another thousand degrees. "You expect mercy from me?! After what you did to Tara?! You foul, selfish bitch…" His breath hitches at the memory of all the nights standing outside Abel's door, listening to his son cry himself to sleep…of Thomas, wailing day and night for the mother he may never remember. "After what you did to my sons…You'll get no mercy from me. Scream all you want, no one will hear you."
He scrapes the fork hard across the base of her skull, sneering when she whimpers in pain and begs him to stop. What she's feeling is nothing, goddamn fucking nothing compared to how the vicious bitch made Tara suffer. "What was it like, Gemma? Taking care of Abel and Thomas, watching them cry from losing their mother, pretending to worry about them…when all the while you were the one who stole everything from us!"
"No!" Gemma screams hoarsely. "It was Tara! Tara was going to ruin everything. She was going to rat on the Club and send you all to jail. Then take the boys away…Tara tried to destroy our family, Jackson! She's been trying to tear apart the Club and our family for years…and you've been too blinded by your dick to see it! But it's not too late, Jax…we can still…" She cries in pain as he slams her head into the ground.
"You don't ever talk about Tara like that, do you hear me, bitch?" He pulls her head up by the hair so she can see the sheer hate on his face. "And there's no 'we' when it comes to you. You're going to die tonight, Gemma. And then I'm taking the boys out of here…like I promised Tara. They won't grow up in SAMCRO, there'll never be another Teller at the head of the table. And the only thing they'll ever know about you is that you're the evil, jealous cunt who murdered their mother in cold blood."
Shoving her head into the ground, Jax tightens his grip on the fork; he's felt the burn of hate and rage before, but never like this…so painfully intense that he can barely breathe. Pulling her long hair out of the way, he tries to focus on the target spot despite the red mist coating his vision and her violent struggles and screams begging him to stop. "Say goodbye, Gemma…" he hisses, lifting his arm to drive the fork into…
A shot pierces the air, causing him to drop the fork and swivel around. What in fucking hell?!
"No, Jax." Bobby emerges from the dark, followed by Chibs, Tig and Happy. "We can't let you do this…"
It's probably wrong to feel this energized, this full of renewed purpose at a funeral. But somehow he doesn't think Donna would mind, especially since it means overhauling the Club she'd come to hate so much - the Club that'd tried to murder her husband only to kill her instead.
Standing in front of his father's grave marker, Jax had silently vowed to return the Sons of Anarchy back to its roots, back to JT's original vision of freedom and Brotherhood and away from the greed and violent power plays that'd been poisoning the Club under Clay's presidency. "Time for a change." Piney had told him, and Jax wholeheartedly agreed, jumping at the chance to finally put SAMCRO to rights again.
Speaking of second changes, his heart actually skips a beat at the sight of Tara waiting for him beside his bike. Christ, he'd come so close to losing her again…but she'd come back to him, more or less announcing it to everyone at the service. It's probably wrong to feel that kind of euphoric happiness during a funeral as well…but again, something tells him Donna would've been okay with it.
"Jax, over here!" In the corner of his eye, he spots his mother waving for him to join her and Clay and Wendy. Gemma's so goddamn transparent sometimes; she'd pushed Wendy at him before and for some fucked-up reason, she's doing it again. But he's made his choice, not that there was really ever a choice to make - Tara's owned him since they were kids, and she always will. Gemma really needs to get that drilled into her thick, stubborn skull. Ignoring her and Clay and Wendy, he increases his pace towards his bike - where the most beautiful girl in the world's waiting for him.
"Hey." She beams him that smile that always, always spikes his pulse. "I hitched a ride here with Hale…so I was kind of hoping you could give me a ride home."
Unable to help himself, he hauls her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "'Home' - as in Charming, right?" At her nod, he grins broadly then presses his forehead against hers. "For good this time, okay Babe?" he murmurs against her velvety cheek.
"For good…" She strokes his face then ensnares him with those gorgeous mossy green eyes. "I love you, Jax. I'm not going anywhere. Home's where you are."
"This has nothing to do with you guys!" Jax bellows in outrage. "Tara was MY wife, and that murderous bitch…" He shoots a hate-filled glare at Gemma, being held in check by Tig and Chibs. "…took her away from ME and MY sons. Retaliation is MY right. Tara deserves justice…"
Bobby shakes his head sadly. "We heard everything, Jax. And you're right, Tara deserves justice. But you got to think this through…Despite everything, Gemma's still your mother; if you kill her….that's some pretty heavy shit you'd be carrying around for the rest of your life. Tara loved you, Brother…do you honestly think she'd want that for you? You may not believe it now, but that's the kind of killing that'll eat at your soul…you'll never be able to escape it, and neither will your boys, because they'll have to live with it too."
"He's right," Tig pipes up. "Killing family…the wrongness of it...just never goes away."
Practically shaking with incredulous fury, Jax gapes at each of his so-called Brothers standing in mutual accord against him. "I can't fucking believe this…You expect me to turn her over to the goddamn Sheriff? And then what? Gemma gets some lawyer who cuts some fucking deal for her to rat on us in exchange for a walk? Where's justice for Tara in that?"
Gemma leans forward and tries to grab his arm. "Jax, you can't possibly believe that I would rat…"
"Shut your goddamn mouth!" Jax lunges for her, only to be blocked by Happy. Of all people. Christ, what fucking weird shit's happening if Happy doesn't agree with retaliation?
"No, Jackie." Chibs breaks his silence. "Gemma had a hand in killing a Member, who was President at the time. And she murdered your Queen and our Doc…This doesna go to the Sheriff. It stays here with The Club…with a Mayhem Vote."
Neither Teller had expected that; Jax's jaw drops open as Gemma starts shrieking in panicked disbelief. "What?! No! You can't be serious. I'm just an Old Lady, not a Member. Mayhem is just for Members."
"Technically, you're not even an Old Lady…Clay's dead," Tig reminds her. "And technically, we can vote Mayhem for anyone who kills a Member, which we heard you admit. Pretty bad move on your part."
Gemma begins to struggle anew, a moot exercise, given she wouldn't get far even if she managed to break free. Nevertheless, Chibs tightens his grip on her although his gaze remains on Jax. "Yea." The VP casts the first vote - drawing a horrified gasp from Gemma - then glances at the Sergeant-at-Arms.
Happy doesn't hesitate. "Yea."
Tig remains silent for a heartbeat as he gazes at Gemma; Jax's always suspected Clay's right hand henchman of having the hots for his wife. But before he can suspect Tig of ruining a unanimous vote, his Brother chimes in loud and clear. "Yea."
Jax watches with grim satisfaction as Gemma's shoulders tense and eyes widen with terror; she really must've thought the guys would be loyal to her even after all the damaging shit she'd done, but now even her most steadfast knight has turned on her. As the vote moves to Bobby, Gemma shoots him an imploring look.
"Yea." Like Happy, Bobby doesn't hesitate for a second. Instead, SAMCRO's voice of reason levels Gemma with a glare so full of hate-filled loathing, that tears start to roll down her face. "Your vote now, Prez…" Bobby clamps his hand on Jax's shoulder.
Gemma turns her tear-streaked face towards him. "Jackson, please…Don't do this…Please, Baby…"
He swallows hard, glancing first at Tommy's grave marker then at the rosebush, swaying slightly in the wind. Bobby's right; Jax knows that his beautiful girl, who'd devoted her life to helping people - to saving them - always hated the thought of blood on his hands. "Don't let this change you, Jax…I love you so much, Baby. You've got a big beautiful heart, don't let them kill it."
Feeling his Brothers' intense gazes on him, he steps closer to Tara's murderer and stares hard into her face - the hate steaming from him could scorch the sun. "Tara wouldn't have wanted me to do this, even after what you did to her. But she didn't deserve to suffer like that, my boys didn't deserve to lose their mother…You, though...you deserve to burn in hell. And I can't fucking wait to send you there…Yea."
Although Jax's wanted to marry Tara since his sixteenth birthday, he'd never given much thought to the actual wedding - just that it had to be special for her; so even after she'd accepted his proposal, he'd swallowed his eagerness and told her that they needed to wait for the right time. Maybe because he couldn't forget sweet little Tara, his childhood friend whose worthless parents never gave her shit, that he'd wanted to wait until they could plan the perfect celebration - where everyone could watch the most beautiful, most remarkable girl in the world finally, finally become his wife.
"…in a brothel…Wanted for murder…"
Obviously he hadn't envisioned the quick, impromptu ceremony officiated by a john judge fresh from his favorite hooker's bed; Jax had to improvise given the bullshit arrest warrant leading to his possible murder at the hands of Black once locked up in County. But as they exchanged vows, he'd been transfixed by the sheer joy on Tara's gorgeous face - by those dazzling green eyes glowing with love for him - and realized that she didn't give a fuck about the perfect celebration…all she wanted was him.
Stalking into the Clubhouse after the rather terse meeting with Romeo and Luis, he heads straight for the apartment, where her text said she'd be waiting for him. And as usual, she doesn't disappoint. The anger and tension coiling inside him melt away instantly at the sight of his incredibly sexy wife lying on the bed, dressed in nothing but his black SAMCRO t-shirt, reading some massive book.
"Hi, Baby." She grins up at him, setting the book aside as he leans down to help himself to that luscious mouth. "Oh no, you don't…" she pushes him away playfully when he tries to join her on the bed. "I need to check out my brand new husband…wearing nothing but this…" She taps the bullet necklace, tucked under his shirt, that she'd given him years ago. "…and this…" Plump pink lips brush against the thick gold wedding band that she'd slid on his finger less than an hour ago.
Jax straightens and quirks a questioning brow at her; despite the excitement coursing through him, he doesn't want the memory of the first time he made love to his wife trashed to hell by Roosevelt and his goons bursting in here and hauling his bare ass to jail.
"Ally says we probably have at least half an hour before those guys get here." Correctly reading his hesitation, Tara rises to her knees, drawing his intent gaze as she plays with the hem of her t-shirt before slowly pulling it off - leaving her deliciously naked except for the bracelet and necklace he bought her on one of his runs and her wedding and engagement rings. "You don't think I can get you off in half an hour?" Smirking, she leans back against the pillows, her left hand drifting down to rest low on her stomach - just above his personal slice of heaven.
Jax breaks all personal speed records stripping off his clothes; his pulse skyrocketing and dick hardening to stone as he watches her watching him - just fucking loving the gleam of hot desire her green eyes.
"Babe, at this rate, I won't last half that long." Anchoring her hands on either side of her head, he twines their fingers and gazes down at the stunning face he's loved nearly all his life. "Christ, you're beautiful…Mrs. Teller…" Unable to resist any longer, he devours her mouth, savoring the taste of her, while sliding between those silky smooth thighs; his stiff cock rubbing against her soaking wet mound.
Draping one slim leg around his hip, Tara presses herself even tighter against him; mewling softly as she scrapes her swollen nipples against his chest. "Oh, god, I love you, Jax…" she gasps as his lips slide down her throat to suck hard on her neck. "Fuck me…now, Baby, now…"
Holy, holy shit. Practically vibrating with lust, Jax struggles for control - not an easy feat given that the sweet little girl next door he just married could always fire him up faster and hotter than anyone or anything else ever. Staring into those hypnotic eyes, Jax thrusts hard, hissing with pleasure as her scorching wet walls squeeze his pulsing cock.
Not breaking eye contact nor the clasp of their entwined hands, he pumps slowly, firmly - rubbing his swollen cock up and down and across her most sensitive tissues, loving the friction and suction of her hungry pussy swallowing him up. Oh holy fuck, he feels his balls draw tight, ready to explode - shit, he'd warned her that he wouldn't last long, but this might be an actual record.
Rolling them over so she's on top, Jax grits his teeth, desperate not to come until he can take her with him. He feasts his admiring gaze on her beautiful flushed face and luscious, heaving breasts before sucking a swollen nipple into his mouth and rubbing his thumb hard against her clit - pulsing hard and deep inside her as she rides him. Apparently it's just what the doctor ordered as Dr. Tara Knowles-Teller screams her pleasure, triggering a rush of soaking wet spasms that grip and clench his cock so hard that he's the one shouting his love for her as he comes and comes and comes.
"Do you think they heard us out there?" She giggles, snuggling against his chest. "I mean they were playing music."
"Babe, people in Lodi might've heard you…" He grabs her hand as she starts to tickle him. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kisses the gold band on her finger, savoring the fact that the life he'd dreamed about since turning sixteen was now reality - wearing the President's patch and married to Tara.
"Well that's your job now…." She tugs at his goatee. "…keeping your wife happy." Pulling his head down, she feeds him a slow, hot, wet kiss that melts his brain and rouses his recovering dick. "Welcome to the rest of your life, Baby."
Chuckling, he presses her tighter against him. "I can't wait."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Chief Charlie Horse narrows his eyes at Jax and Bobby. "Once it's started…there's no turning back."
Bobby points at Jax. "Gemma murdered his wife…and his father. We've got a 'mourning war' here, Chief. The gods have chosen their revenge…besides John Teller was a friend of your brother's, they fought together in Vietnam."
After a slight hesitation, Charlie nods. "John was a friend of mine as well…and of all the Wahewa." He grips Jax's shoulder. "Once again, I'm very sorry about Tara, Jackson. She was a beautiful woman - with a big heart…Whatever you want, we'll see it done." Then exhaling loudly, turns for his truck. "Okay, follow me to the South Res."
Jax follows Bobby back to the van, which they had to take to haul their prisoners and Jax's bike. "Chief wants us to follow him," Bobby tells Tig, who's got driving duty, then claims shotgun. "But I know the way there, too."
Climbing into the back of the van, Jax plops down next to Chibs and Happy then glares at Gemma and Juice, bound and gagged, across from them. Part of him wants to look away from her, maybe just the slightest bit afraid that even now - so close to the end - there's still some small shred of love he once had for his mother, the woman who'd raised him, stood by him through all his bad shit. If it's still there inside him, would it weaken his resolve to finally get justice for Tara?
But as he looks at Gemma, he doesn't see his loving, laughing mother - no, all he can see is an empty life without Tara; all he can think about is what he's lost, what his boys have lost…He returns her pleading, tear-stained gaze with his iciest sneer; what waits for her in the South Res is everything she deserves.
A few minutes later the van comes to a stop and the doors pop open with Tig and Bobby outside. Jax stands and leans to pick up Gemma when Bobby's voice stops him. "Jax…let Happy and Chibs do it."
When Jax whirls around to snap at him, Chibs grabs his arm. "He's right, Jackie. Remember what we said back there. You didna want…
"No," Jax counters loudly. "I lost my wife and my old man because of her. My sons lost their mother…I got to do this."
His Brothers exchange glances, then Chibs and Happy hop out of the back of the van, leaving him with Juice and Gemma. Juice would be staying here, he's got a role to play later. For Gemma, it's show time. Ensuring the tightness of the ropes binding her hands and feet, he picks her up and hauls her over his shoulder - ignoring her futile struggles.
Outside, the Chief's standing with his Brothers, pouring something into a swarming pit before murmuring some words that Jax didn't understand. When Bobby first suggested this to him back at the cemetery, Jax'd shuddered - he'd all heard about the Wahewa's extreme punishment methods - but wasn't sure Charlie would grant permission given none of the victims were tribe members. It was one thing to grant Jax unrestricted access to the secluded lakeside park area for camping with Tara or space for Opie and Lyla's wedding, but quite another for SAMCRO to use one of the Wahewa's "sacred traditions."
As Jax carries a violently struggling and squawking Gemma to the pit, Charlie shoots her a withering glare so intense that her breath hitches and she grows still. Charlie had never liked or trusted Clay, so he'd been quietly enraged when Jax'd let him read JT's dad's letter, implicating both Gemma and Clay in his death. So it'd been John Teller's own words that doomed his faithless wife. But only because Tara had kept the letter in her keepsake box.
Staring into the pit teeming with flesh eating ants, Jax muses at the irony of it all; in their own way, JT & Tara found a way to punish Gemma.
Exhaling deeply, Jax hands Gemma off to Happy so he can face the woman who'd given birth to him one last time. He pulls the tape from her mouth since no one would listen to her screaming now. "I'm not going to bother asking you if you're sorry for what you've done…frankly, I don't give a shit about how you feel anymore."
"Jackson…please don't do this…" Gemma croaks hoarsely. "Everything I've done has been for you. Everything I've done is because I love you so much."
Jax barks with harsh laughter. "You killed my father and my wife because you love me? Gemma, you've got the most fucked-up definition of love. You say you loved Dad, but you plotted to murder him. You say you loved Tara, but you butchered her…You say you love me, but you killed any hope I had for a future. I'll take care of my boys…but what's left for me? All I ever wanted was Tara…and you took her from me. You're poison Gemma, you don't know how to love." With that, he nods at Happy and together they lower Gemma into the pit where the ants swarm immediately, covering every inch of her within seconds.
Maybe the sight of those ravenous ants eating her alive or the sound of her bloodcurdling screams of pain should've stirred some pity or regret inside him. But Jax felt nothing as he stood there, just like when he'd watched Wendy violently convulse to death on the cabin floor. Maybe he is a monster; as Gemma's son, he certainly came from the right gene pool.
His Brothers had stood by him, but - unlike Jax - they're all clearly affected by Gemma's slow, visceral torture, even Happy. However, they're all quick to clarify that they'd vote the same way…it's just that they'd wished it didn't have to come to this. Well if that meant Tara would still be alive, Jax couldn't agree more.
"How long do we got to watch this?" Tig glances longingly at the van. Charlie had said it should take two days for a person to die, but only Happy had volunteered to watch the ants finish their job.
Jax's cell phone rings before he can answer. Scowling at the Sanwa Sheriff's ID appearing on the screen, Jax considers letting it go to voicemail before barking into the phone. What the fuck did these assholes want? His last interaction with Jarry and Patterson had been a goddamn joke.
"Mr. Teller, it's Lieutenant Althea Jarry. We need you to come down to St. Thomas Hospital immediately."
"Why? Look, I'm in the middle of something. I really don't have time to…"
"It's about your sons, Mr. Teller. I suggest you get here right now."