THIS CHARMING LIFE

6. Punishment

I concentrated on looking at the ceiling while they made a superficial search. I picked up the sticker with the word "visitor" printed in capital letters. I knew those steps by heart. The consciousness of knowing, exactly, what was going to happen, when, the questions they would ask me, and what I had to answer them, gave the task a certain aroma of tranquility.

That's made the visit most homey. Less cold. At least... that I liked to believe.

Every two weeks he visited Jax, who was serving fourteen months in Stockton. He alternated with his visits to my father, Clay Morrow, who was in the same institution. Along with them, lived in the shadow Bobby, Juice, Happy, Tig... big part of my family.

As I walked down the aisles, with the visible sticker and the metallic sounds of doors opening and closing as I passed, I recounted what had happened in the last few months. For starters, all the imprisonment was a hard and confusing process for me. The first night I returned home, after seeing Jax and the others being taken in the van, I cried myself to sleep. And when I woke up, I continued to cry, accompanying my whining with the babble of Abel, who asked for his father every day and at all hours.

As if that were not enough, the time when internal affairs agent June Stahl had taken Jax filled my nightmares. Without understanding why, that blond woman with a blank face had begun to take documents from her purse and to shout out loud in the middle of the workshop the dealings that Jax had signed with her. Telling the club. Turning into an enemy who would most certainly not leave the prison alive. I did not understand the technical issues, or maybe I did not want to. After the anguish we had with Otto and the real possibility that the RICO Law would take SAMCRO ahead, that new stab almost destroyed us.

I refused to think that Clay or any of the others could hurt him, and I tried to beg for him, but no one listened. In fact, they hurried to board the van so as not to face my tear-filled eyes and my question gestures. It was the first time I cried for my father, but Morrow looked down, kissed my forehead, and shut me up. Gemma gave me her comfort, her heart as broken as mine. At that moment, I despised every drop of my blood related to The Sons.

Until I got home and Phil, one of the prospect, gave me the letter.

Jax had planned all that, and the club knew it. So he was not going to shed his blood in some gray and dark corridor of Stockton, he would be protected by his own, who knew from the outset his plan. The ATF had fallen into the trap and stupidly believed that imprisoning them together would end Jackson Teller in a morgue bag. They were wrong.

Although, of course, the stay at Stockton was not being a rose road.

Finally, I crossed the last door to the visitors' room, and even before I entered, I saw him. Jax was standing by one of the tables, in her gray jumpsuit, black boots, and a woolen hat that covered her now short blond hair. I still found it hard to believe that his youthful mane had disappeared, although he accepted that the cut made him more man, and also that it was more practical for prison life.

He winked at me from a distance, and he opened his arms towards me as soon as I saw him, his face bright with joy and enthusiasm, despite the fact that he had not seen the sun for nearly seven months. He didn't look bad... a little thinner, but healthy. I took a deep breath. That was all that mattered.

I ran to meet him, just like all the other times, throwing myself into his arms and squeezing me against his body, seeking his scent under those unfamiliar clothes. His touch felt different when he did not wear his rings or vest, but his hoarse voice, the heat emanating from his body as we embraced him, returned me home. I held him with all my strength, until I had to let go of him when I heard him grunt.

—It's okay. —Jax smiled, giving me a short kiss and then another. —It's okay babe. It's worth a little pain if you grab me like that.

I bit my lip when I saw him put his hand on the lower chest. Underneath the T-shirt was a thick bandage that kept covered half-closed scars. Damn Russians, I thought. Every time I remembered that someone had attacked Jax, wounding him four times in the body, without anyone doing anything to remedy it, the fury was growing inside me. I had not seen him bleed, nor had he been transferred to the emergency room... but my imagination, and Clay's call to inform me, had been enough so that the image would not leave me for a single day.

—Hey, it's okay, fine —he repeated, taking a seat on the table and wrapping his hand in mine. —Your revenge face is very hot, sweetheart, but take it off. Seriously, I'm good.

—But you solved it? Are you going to retaliate —I lowered my voice as much as I could, and Jax gave me a warning gesture with his blue eyes.

—We're good boys who have made mistakes, babe. Those mistakes have taken us to jail and now, we are behaving not to lose the privileges or delay the exit. Do you remember that?

I grunted and looked down, but he stroked my neck, motionlessly telling me to put my eyes on him again.

—Everything is fine. I am fine, and things will be arranged in a clean way and will not splash anyone. —I did not believe him for a second, but those were not subjects we could talk about in the jail room. —Let's talk about something else, please.

—Ok... because that's club issues and girls can not comment, right?

Jax composed a ladino smile, nodding as he approached to be closer to me.

—That is darlin'. Be a good Old Lady and don't occupy your little mind with these things.

I punched him in the bíceps. We both laughed and hugged each other tightly. I tried to clear my mind, to remember that there were things I had to tell him and little time to lose.

—Abel asks about you all the time. —I said, letting his hands run down my arms, throat and sides. I could imagine Jax's need for contact, because I felt it too. I tried to focus on talking, before falling into the temptation to throw myself into his mouth. —Gemma and I have told him daddy is working away, but that he will be back very soon.

—Daddy dies for going home. —His forehead fell on mine, with a tired sigh that snatched away any remaining good humor. —I'm going to reapply for the permit, Aurora but I don't think I have any chance of getting out of here in time

His hand then settled on my belly. I was pregnant, I knew just when Jax was completing her first week of confinement, and although I considered concealing her as long as possible, I realized that maybe knowing would help her find a reason to go unnoticed, behave like a model prisoner, and count the Days remaining to come out with something optimistic on its horizon. The news pleased him and made him melancholy in equal parts, he was going to lose many things, but he had many more to look forward to. With tenderness, she ran her hands over my belly, smiling at the slight undulating movements.

—Hi there, little man —Jax whispered, cracking my heart a little more. —Daddy didn't expect you to come when he served his sentence. I sorry, Aurora ... I promise I will not miss anything as important as this. Never.

—Gemma will stay with me —I replied, pretending to sound like a practical solution. Jax denied it.

—I'm sorry for that, too. —He clutched my belly more tightly, bending down to kiss him with devotion. —And you, monster number two. Forgive your old man for not being the first thing you see when you open your eyes.

—He'll understand —put my hand over his, smiling unreservedly, as if inside I felt no emptiness and loneliness. —We'll wait for you.

—It was not supposed to be that way, Aurora. This time... it had to go well. This time it had to be perfect.

—It will be.

We shut up, because continuing to remove certain things from the past would only make the little time left for us to be together, to become sour. I showed Jax the last ultrasound and he smiled, at last without having to pretend to see something he could not decipher. Our son was already big enough and he was formed so that he could distinguish it. When I told him that the small photograph had already passed the security check, he put it in his pocket.

—No doubt he's well armed, —he snorted, pulling me to get me even closer. We kissed, slow and wet... a guard cleared his throat.

—It seems you can't do anything else.

—Are you challenging me? —he wrapped my hair in her fist, touching me incessantly, as if she could not stop herself. —You still have one in the oven and you're trying to get me another?

—A girl, perhaps.

Jax lowered her head. He moistened his lip with his tongue and I swallowed. He recognized that look, that warm gesture, previous to the excitement that normally carried us to the bed... or any other surface that we could take as a point of support.

—Well, babe... it's been almost seven months now... when I put my hands back on you, I'll be so desperate that it might just make you triplets.

—Poor Jackson. —wrapped my arms around her neck. —Is the wait too… hard?

—Very, very hard. You have no idea how much hard I feel right now.

—For me, too —sighed, for it was true. Our sex life was active enough to paralyze it completely. —I miss you so much Jackson.

—I miss you too babe. —With his forehead against me, blue eyes narrowed. —Is it still quiet in Charming? Is everyone well? The Club house?

I nodded. He had heard something about a new sheriff, for Wayne Unser had only the energy left to remain in the post, they said in the department. For all the rest, an unusual peace had settled in our streets, without rivalries, shootings or wars of any kind. Anyway, there was always someone from the club nearby, not for protection... but as a friend arm. For whatever he would need, he had a Son with whom he could count.

—Things are going good. —I gave him a soft kiss, and as it seemed to have been very serious, I decided to try to raise my spirits a bit... in my own way. —Actually... you should worry about other things.

—Like what?

He raised his eyebrows and I knew he had all his attention.

—Are not you afraid that if I were alone for so long, something happens to someone else?

—With another guy? —Jax curled his lips in a sly smile. He ran his hand down between my legs. —And what else can to replace me here?

I concentrated all my efforts on avoiding to close my eyes and moan. It had been so long since I had touched it that way... so long...

—Counting with Rat nearby is very hard, Jackson. He is so young, with so many aspirations...

He nodded with pity, as if he could not blame me. He did not let himself be fooled for a second, and I praised that he was sufficiently sure of himself -and me- to be confident that our relationship was strong enough to make jokes about fidelity.

—After seven months here, even I would look at him with different eyes. —Jax ran his hand over his face, hiding a smile.

We got the first notice. The visitation time was over and my chest contracted, as I always did when a new separation was interposed between us. In a hurry, I began to tell him all sorts of things, my work, the ultrasounds and medical tests, that the nausea had practically passed... Jax nodded and pretended that all this string of nonsense interested him. He asked me if he was letting me help, if I had the club in case I needed access to money or some practical things.

—Opie takes care of most everything, as you asked, —informed him. —He has stored your motorcycle in the TM, to bring it in the truck the day you leave.

—And my cut? Do you still have it?

—It's in the house, don't worry.

I also informed him of some novelties without much importance. I kept trying to get in touch with my mother, who had sent me a completely useless box of pink baby clothes, but no letter, note, or intention to visit me to make Jax's separation less harsh. Against all I could have thought, Gemma had behaved like a mother to me, leaning on me, being aware of my needs and being a rock against which to cry when I needed her. It was my father's wife, she told me. And she was also the mother of my partner. That made us family.

The two of us had become virtually inseparable, sharing Abel's care and waiting to see those we loved to go free.

—I've brought you more notebooks and pencils, so you can keep writing your secret memoirs. —This time, it was me who gave him an eloquent gesture with my eyes. —Opie sent you a card for your birthday... and hopes you find his words inspiring.

Jax understood. He nodded once. Information of the club, alliances that were broken and reinforced, names to go to if necessary. After the incident with the Russians, the whole club had mobilized to ensure that their VP did not touch again. Something that I appreciated.

—And you brought me something else —he raised her blond eyebrow, and my face turned pink. —That is a yes?

—Jax Teller, you're a grown man.

—I'm an adult man, yes, and I'm tired of squeezing my dick under the sheets of the fucking bed in the cell. Even the memories are over after so many months, Aurora, I need new inspiration, so tell me... —His two hands covered my wide waist, a mocking smile on his lips. —Did you bring me anything else?

Surrendered to the evidence that she was going to get away with it, I snorted, and ... I nodded. I was ashamed to think that when the guards searched the bag with personal belongings I had brought to Jax, they would also find... my gift. He had insisted that being prison officials had seen it all, but for me it was a first time.

Something I never imagined I would do.

—Besides things for you, yes, I've brought you something else. —he bit his lip, drawing closer, hoping to hear it from my mouth. Damn bastard I loved him enough to did something like that. —Panties. Mine. My panties.

—I hope you didn't wash them before.

—That's disgusting Jax! —He laughed, slapping me on the ass that caused the guard's second warning. He dropped his hands for a few minutes, before turning back to them. —Really? Dirty panties?

—I'm very lonely, darlin'

—I'm sure that with that face you could easily find someone to comfort you.

He laughed again, with those hoarse laughter I liked so much. Then we looked into each other's eyes, seriously, without jokes that would make the moment more bearable. He caressed my face carefully. Behind us, the metallic noises, the low voices and instructions followed, reminding us of where we were and who we were.

—I'm so sorry, babe. I did not want this for you.

—But I accept it. —And how true it was, I was firm in my words. —This club is part of me, father, my man, my blood. This is my life, Jax. It's who I am now. It has taken me a long time to find a place, I will not give up on it even if things are complicated.

—You're strong Aurora. You're very strong.

—I'm your old lady.

Jax nodded proudly, wrapping me in his arms again and squeezing me hard against him despite the pain that his scars caused. He told me that he loved me and I answered him. He swore that when it came out things would be different for us, and I told him I knew. When he looked at me again, his eyes full of hope and regret in equal measure, he faltered for a few seconds, regretting to miss the birth of our son, lamenting the time wasted behind the bars we could not recover.

—Don't waste your time here. —rubbed my face with my fingers, smiling at him. —Read some books, do exercise... relate to people who are bigger and more resilient than you. Don't get in trouble, Jax. Don't let them provoke you, or believe you have to prove anything, because you're not. Good behavior, no matter what.

—That sounds like someone's been getting advice from Gemma.

—I'm also a mother of the club now. — I trailed my fingers to my belly, playing a letter I would only use in desperate moments. —I want my man out. On the other side of my bed, do you understand?

—Yes, ma'am. Understood.

He kissed me hard, over and over again, then the visited ended definitely and he had to stop touching me, pulling away from my body and smiling when all he wanted was to hit the walls with his fists. I saw all the rage concentrated in his eyes, the urge to fight and demand, but he did not. He remained motionless, accepting that I was leaving and that he, had to stay.

—Good behavior, —Jax said, taking his right hand to his chest. —I promise, sweetheart.

—Be careful, —was all I could say, walking toward the exit. —Please Jax... be careful.

—Let people help you and take care of you outside, do you hear me, Aurora? I know you're independent and you do not like being controlled... but knowing that you're protected is the only way I can be quiet in here.

—Come soon. —The door closed behind me, and Jax's image was cut by the iron bars. —Come soon... and protect me yourself.

—I promise. —He said me. The guard grabbed me by the shoulder, urging me to move down the hall. Jax hurried over to the bars, forcing me to plead. —Eh eh! Don't touch her. She is leaving, okay? Don't touch her.

—Get out the door, —the officer warned, pointing at him with his finger. —Back off, Teller.

Jax obeyed raising her hands and the guard stepped away from me. I smiled at him, telling him that everything was fine, even if it was not quite true.

—I love you.

—I love you too.

I heard her answer out loud as I made my way to the car, ready to return to Charming and a life that had not stopped in spite of everything. The week would pass, and everything would start again...

Just seven more months.

Note: I'm back! I have been slow to post, but between my other obligations and persistent back pain, I have hardly written anything in these last two weeks. I hope this chapter will please. As I said... I will relate future moments with others present, so that history is taking shape, more drabble type, than chapters. Thus it becomes more interesting and remains always in the air the question of... what has happened to get there?

Today, he has taken us to Stockton, I really hope you like it and encourage me to leave your comments, theories, ideas, impressions... or anything else. Thank you for following me and making history as a favorite. See you next time!