Disclaimer: I own nothing. Which is getting quite depressing to have to repeat every chapter…. Blah, blah, blah…. Kurt Sutter gets credit for the characters etc etc etc. EXCEPT for the ones I create, so suck that Sutter.
Trouble In Paradise
Tara P.O.V
I stormed out of the kids rooms', ignoring their anxious pleas to know what the hell was happening, and burst into the room. I refuse to acknowledge anything that was once considered in the plural pronoun "ours". The slimy git was going to rue the day he ever thought it would be okay to cheat on me again. Shoving pairs of work clothes and civilian clothes into my ever faithful black duffel bag, my eyes never strayed from the task at hand. Despite my anger, I knew that if I looked around this room that I would break down and I can not afford to be weak. I morphed from my mommy dearest persona and into my biker bitch inner self. "The bus is leaving in five minutes, and your shit had better be packed!" I screamed out to light a fire under my confused children's asses. Casting my glance quickly around the room, I found nothing deemed worthwhile to take with me at the moment and with a final curt look, I exited that room.
Tommy P.O.V
I don't know what the flying fuck is going on right now. I was just aimlessly drifting along in the sweet comfort of my head, when the she-demon clawed me awake. The Queen bee was back, and when Mom went Hulk, well you got the fuck outta dodge. I immediately hopped out of bed and grabbed my emergency bag from the closet. It contained a pack of smokes, an old knife, a glock, some clothes, and other miscellaneous shit. Whatever happened to piss her off has to be real bad, and I am praying to God and any other deity that it has nothing to do with me…
Ryanna P.O.V
Jesus Christ! Chucky came out of hiding! My mother was no longer the sweet surgeon; she was into the Queen Biker Bitch mode, channeling Gemma at her worst and paring it with herself at her worst. Fucking deadly combo right there. Judging from the pitch of her shout, I determined that I had better do what she told, not that I wouldn't have anyways, but I moved with a bit more oomph. I've never heard her this upset before, I just pray to God that nobody died or that the unthinkable had occurred…
Tara P.O.V
Brushing through the doorway I see Tommy and Ryanna rushing out of their rooms and into the hallway. "Good, now that we are all up, get in the cutlass" I saw their mouths begin to peep, their curiosity teeming. My eyes narrowed and I repeated my directive, "I said, get your asses into the cutlass. NOW!" They turned about face and moved so fast, someone would have thought that they stole something. Following their dust, I kept my eyes trained in front of me, studiously ignoring the family pictures lining the walls. Reaching the front door, I place my hand on the suspiciously cold knob and start to turn when I saw my wedding photo on the nearest wall.
Quickly removing my hand, I stomped over to the picture and stared at the happy expressions on our faces. Seeing the pure, unadulterated love in our eyes was like a knife to my gut. For that split second, my anger faded and was replaced with the heart wrenching torture my soul was enduring. It cries out in torment as every thought of the betrayal rips it into further into fragments. "Stop it," I desperately commanded my mind, "not now." The tears sprang to my eyes as my hands clutched my heart and my stomach simultaneously, as if trying to prevent my dissolution. White noise flooded my ear drums, and memories of Jax and I flew across the blank canvas of my inner eyelids. I could feel myself falling into the confines of my mind, and was helpless to stop the perilous drop, until an image of Jax, the kids, and I passed my sight.
Remembering that Tommy and Ryanna were outside waiting for me, the woman that they depend upon like no other, I slowly drew my body up from its curled up position and shakily stood, attempting to calm my breathing. Anger flooded my system once more, as I realized just how easy that man destroys me, how quick I was to forget myself and my kids. Turning my eyes toward the picture once more, I drew myself up to my full height and drew my fist back, letting it fly through the air and penetrating the glass barrier of the frame. Hearing the glass shattering and feeling the power beneath my fist as it delivered the coup de grace was sinfully satisfying. Picking up my duffel once more, I strolled to the door and returned to my previous position of grasping a hand to the knob. This time, I turned it easily clockwise and stepped through the threshold, never once glancing back…