AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter. Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and comments.
There's no such thing as good grief
Haven't eaten in three weeks
Skin and bones when you're not near me
It was funny how life continually changed around her. Quinn felt as if she was getting hit with wave after wave. Life was just a series of bone-crushing tsunamis, and she had no life jacket or support system to keep her afloat.
She was drowning in a deep well of misery. Well, not all of it was miserable. Her pain had given her a lot to write and contemplate.
She felt more inspired since she didn't have Jax in her life. However, she still wasn't sure how she felt about how things ended between them. She didn't think his going to prison was a dealbreaker for them. Even if they never really did talk about the club, she knew of the risk his lifestyle brought.
Quinn didn't like it, and she knew a prison sentence would be hard, but she knew she could handle it.
Yet, Jax seemed to think they could not handle the separation. He didn't have faith in it. She thought the worst part of it was she didn't fight back. She didn't try to salvage the relationship. Yet, maybe she recognized he had already made up his mind. He came to her house to break things off with her.
It almost made her feel like she was disposable. However, she should be used to the feeling. If she was honest with herself, it wasn't like it was the first time Jax had tossed her aside so easily. Maybe one day she would see the logic of Jax's decision. She thought she may have handled it better if the two had had a mutual discussion.
Jax decided, and she had to roll with it. In her dark thoughts, she could hear that she should be a good old lady and do what she was told. Yet, Jax broke things off, and the title wouldn't matter or apply to her anyway.
She didn't know how to grieve for her relationship because grieving meant it was done. And Jax was hard to let go of. Outside of the romantic entanglements, he was her friend. And now, he was practically nothing. This time felt so much different than the first time they had parted.
Quinn sighed as she looked at Charming's Garden, filled with activity. Given how the summer had happened, she didn't expect to find her way back to Charming. Yet, Elliot had asked her. The annual Taste of Charming Festival, started by Gemma Teller, was a fundraising opportunity to support community endeavors. Once Gemma passed, her stepfather approached John Teller about keeping the tradition.
They throw a fundraiser every year, and Elliot matches whatever is raised. This year, they are working to save the Charming Gardens from being demolished due to another Hale venture to commercialize Charming.
And it was nice. The festival seemed to highlight Charming's one beauty. It wasn't until she went to college that she could appreciate the appeal of the small town. The sense of community and belonging was evident once she went away. It was nice going to family-owned businesses and forming relationships compared to franchises. She loved the individual looks each store provided. The stores themselves were pieces of the town's history.
Charming had its beauty. She couldn't deny that.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
Quinn turned to find Nate Maddox approaching. Jax's grandfather had always been kind to her when she would come around. She remembered his warnings to Jax many times to treat her like a lady and with respect.
She also knew that Nate disapproved of the club. Nate was the only reason Jax was made to finish high school and get his diploma instead of his GED.
Despite that one annoyance, she knew Jax wouldn't regret it in the long run. He held his grandfather in high esteem, and Nate was his one link to his mother.
"Hello, Mr. Madd -"
"Nah," Nate said with a wave of a hand, "none of that. Call me Nate."
She rewarded him with a small smile as he sat next to her on the wooden bench under the shade of a cherry tree.
"How you've been?" He asked her.
That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? How was she?
"I've had better days, but school and writing keep me focused."
Nate nodded. "And you're wanting to be a teacher?"
Quinn snorted. High school students would eat her alive. She didn't have the constitution to work with kids. "I actually want to be a published writer or maybe work for a magazine."
Nate nodded and smiled. "That's good. Real good. Jax would show me some of your writings."
Quinn broke into a laugh at that. Of course, Jax would. Jax had always been supportive of her writings. She could give him that. He and Missouri. She hated that Missouri moved away to take care of her mother.
"Your poems…are raw. You write pain so…eloquently - intimately. Makes me wonder how much my grandson was the source of them."
Quinn didn't know what to say to that. She felt she would never stop if she talked about Jax and how he was so interwoven in her poems. Or worse, she would begin crying.
"I write what I know," she stated. She didn't want to bad mouth Jax. It wasn't as if she could. Despite the grief, it wasn't as if the relationship was nasty. Jax didn't beat her.
"Yeah, I was afraid of that," Nate muttered softly. "Sometimes, I wish Jax was like his mother. She never let her conscience get in the way - good or bad." Nate laughed. Quinn tried to picture Gemma with her brown hair and chunky blonde highlights. She knew the woman loved her stiletto boots. "But Jax is his father through and through. His head and heart always work in the opposite direction. Then, like his mother, once something is stuck, there ain't any budging." Nate patted her hand. "Jax would appreciate a visit. He needs it if he can't even say it."
Quinn licked her lips. She didn't know if she even wanted to visit Jax. He didn't want her to wait, so why would she see him?
She couldn't tell Nate that she would visit him. She didn't want to make that promise. Nate didn't speak on Jax anymore, for which she was grateful. In fact, one of his church folks came by and distracted him.
She was left alone with her thoughts and grief.
Sometimes, she thought she was pathetic.
Prison was all about routine. There was never any deviation—no chance of surprise during his days inside. There was no deviation, especially without the approval of a guard, crooked or otherwise.
It was the same shit, different day. It made Jax appreciate his freedom much more. He would never take his freedom for granted ever again. He would be smarter and aware of his surroundings.
He didn't like having to always sleep with one eye open. He didn't have any friends inside. The only other member inside was Lenny. Yet, Lenny was locked tight away in prison. Sure, he knew his dad made a deal with the Niners, but accidents happened.
Jax was also aware of his pretty boy status within the prison walls. He had no choice but to devote more time to the gym. He spent most of his free time working out; when he wasn't doing that, he read in the library.
Reading, however, made him think of Quinn.
Thinking about Quinn made him drown in a pool of grief. He fucked up that relationship again.
He missed her so fucking much at times it was unbearable. He didn't even have the comfort that as soon as he was released, he would go home to her. Instead, he ended things. He pushed her away. Quinn had plans - dreams - she didn't need to be saddled with a convict of a boyfriend. She didn't need that stain on her writing career.
He could live with this decision, knowing she would achieve great things with her writings. She didn't need these ties in Charming holding her back. He knew that he was one of those ties. Even with the promise of an early release with good behavior, she shouldn't put her life on hold for him.
He knew she would have done it. He couldn't have that on his conscience.
He would swallow that pain and carry it. He couldn't be that selfish in his relationship with Quinn. He already caused so much damage.
The only thing he did look forward to was the visitations he received from his dad and grandpa. However, the two of them came on different days.
Because of the prison sentence, he knew they had a Cold War. Jax was aware of his grandfather's distaste for the club. Nate never went out of his way to be loud and vocal about it. Deep down, he knew his grandad wanted something different for him.
He could only imagine the passive aggressiveness without him being in the home.
So, seeing his dad today, it was clear things were weighing heavily on his mind.
His dad's brown hair was steadily losing its pigmentation. Deep bags were under his eyes, and he looked exhausted. Sure, his dad told him what he could to not be surprised in prison, but it made him wonder what else was happening.
It hit Jax for the first time, and his father was aging and getting old. He wouldn't be around forever. The club would be his father's legacy. He was going to have to maintain and nurture that legacy. With all the club had earned, he couldn't help but think, who did his dad have it to share it with?
"We were able to save the Garden," John told him as his knuckles tapped the metal table.
Jax smiled. He knew his grandfather had to be happy about that. Hale's need for expansion with corporations meant family-owned businesses and Charming's surrounding nature would be gutted.
He knew his Granddad had been a member of some committee to save the Gardens from demolition.
"That should have bought some goodwill, then?"
John nodded. "It did. Shame your mom wasn't there. She loved that garden. You know that is where Nate taught her how to plant seeds."
Jax felt his chest tightened at the mention of his deceased mother. He was only 6 when his mother passed. He barely had any solid memories of her. His mother often just felt like a storybook character. He had to create her from what other people would tell him. The stories were tailored to how they wanted her to be remembered.
He wondered why his dad was bringing up the topic of his mom anyway.
"Seen Quinn there…"
Jax sucked in a deep breath. "Dad…"
He didn't want to talk about Quinn or think about her because it was just a wound that would keep getting infected.
John's deep brown eyes looked at him intensely. Unlike his grandfather, his dad never pressed or forced an issue. Maybe to the detriment of their relationship.
He could tell his dad wanted to say something. However, Jax just wrote this off as an empty nest syndrome. With him gone, he was going home to an empty house. Despite his Granddad having a space in their lives, his mom was gone. There was no one taking care of his dad. There was no old lady to comfort, guide, or listen. His dad needed someone. Jax wasn't sure if he needed someone in that way.
His dad doesn't mention Quinn. Instead, he mentions some new hangout and calls himself Juice. The kid is tech-savvy, and his father's hug is tighter.
"I just want you to have something outside of the club," are his father's parting words as he leaves the visiting room.
Quinn was surprised by how cold the Oswald household could be. They didn't cause a blizzard to come across Charming. She didn't know why she bothered to go to Charming for Christmas. Christmas typically meant attending one of Elliot's many business parties or heading to a fancy resort in some snowy mountain.
Yet, now she didn't know what made her pull into the parking lot of Stockton State Penitentiary. It was clear he didn't want her waiting for him. Though sitting in the cold halls of her home, she couldn't imagine how Christmas was going behind the cement walls of a prison.
It was surprising how long it took her to be processed. It was with her luck that visiting hours were still open. She didn't even think to check. Yet, she sat on the cold bench as she was verified as a safe visitor.
It felt as if she had ants in her pants as she waited. Jax probably didn't want to see her. Why would he?
She felt she had been sitting there for an hour before her name was called out. Her legs moving like a newborn deer, she entered the visitation room and was grateful no one was there. It made it easier to spot Jax sitting at a table. He had a white shirt on, and she spotted blue pants. His hair was gone!
His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her. She was surprised he didn't trip over his feet as he clumsily stood up from the table.
He looked so different.
She didn't know if she should hug him, but he decided it for her as he wrapped his arms around her. It took everything in her not to break. A part of her thought was that she should have never come, and maybe this was what Jax protected them from. The hug was brief, as she expected that any longer, they would get a shout from the guards.
"Hey," she greeted and hoped her lips didn't tremble.
"Hey, back," he replied.
The visit opened them back to communication—at least by letter. She found Jax much more honest with paper and pen than he was in person. She looked forward to his letters, and she even laminated them, but she didn't tell him that.
Yet, despite the honesty in the letters, she noticed they always talked around what they had and were to each other. It seemed a topic they didn't dare to breach.
She wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't mention anything like she didn't mention she had begun seeing Rick. Jax didn't want her to wait, so she didn't.
Poetry readings were a steady part of Quinn's schedule. She is finding that she is no longer becoming nervous before each reading. She also notices that she is spotting regulars who come to her readings and purchase the small chapbooks she tries to have ready to sell at each reading.
With her slight increase in popularity, it does offer the chance to travel a bit—nothing too crazy, but to places she never visited, especially while she was with Jax.
Tonight, she was in a cafe named Sinful Sips located in Oakland. It's a cute little shop that was opened in a re-purposed church. It was warm and cozy. They had a bunch of religious typography with a twist of being distorted and almost scandalous.
It wasn't until she read her second to last poem that she spotted someone familiar in the crowd. Despite the dim lighting, she just knew Jax's body type.
After reading, she quickly rushed to the bar where Jax was leaning against—a slight smile on his face.
She jumped into his arms. "You didn't tell me you were getting out!"
As far as she knew, he still had three months left for even the possibility of parole.
"I wanted to surprise you. Wasn't too sure if I would get out."
God, she missed him as she held him longer than necessary. She missed him so much and never felt as safe as she was until she was in his arms. She pulled back reluctantly and ordered herself a drink.
"So what did you think?"
The poems she read today weren't the happiest, and a part of her thought was that if she had known Jax was coming, she would have changed them.
"Well, I am curious who you are having sex dreams about," he teased, and she rolled her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the forehead. "You're an amazing writer."
She felt a flood of warmth in her lower belly at his compliment. "You still write?"
He turned bashful. "Not like you, but I started journaling," he revealed.
She smiled. "You were always a good writer, Jax. I imagine you would make a killing writing a murder mystery."
Jax snorted and went to say something before they were interrupted by someone approaching from the card, asking her if she was selling chapbooks.
It was another 30 minutes of her mingling with the audience and signing some of the chapbooks she sold before she could return to Jax. She was surprised he waited for her.
She thanked the employees for their help before she returned to Jax and grabbed his hand as they walked out of the shop. However, the carefree Jax seemed to have disappeared as he led her out. His body was tense.
She frowned as he stopped abruptly. She looked up to find some people surrounding his bike.
"Get to your car."
"Jax, what -"
"Go," he ordered her. She didn't want to leave but knew better than to cause a scene in public. She rushed over to her car, which wasn't parked very far from the front of the stop. She got into the driver's seat and immediately locked the door.
Jax approached the men surrounding his bike with ease. She squinted her eyes as she noticed the men were wearing kuttes, and she saw the flashes proclaiming them to belong to the Mayans.
The three exchanged words before one knocked Jax's bike over, and Jax charged.
It may have been wise to stay in the car. After all, she knew that these men most likely carried. However, they were bold enough to attack Jax publicly, no matter the beef. She didn't think as she grabbed the pepper spray she kept on her.
She didn't make a sound as she approached the fight. Jax had gotten a few good punches. However, it was two against one.
"Hey, asshole," she shouted. The two looked up, and she immediately sprayed them. "And I'm calling the police!"
The two scrambled away as they tripped on their feet.
"I thought I told you to stay in the car," Jax grumbled as he spat out some blood.
She didn't bother to answer him as she looked at his face. A split lit and a busted eyebrow, she knew he was going to have a wicked black eye.
"What was that about?"
He flexed his hands.
"Jax!"
"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," he replied as he went to pick up his bike.
It was clear he was dismissing her. He didn't want to have this conversation.
"I would've waited for you," she told him in the middle of the dark street, only illuminated by streetlights. After all, she was used to knowing Jax under the guise of the night. This was a familiar pain - grief.
He didn't seem to have anything to say or to refute, so she left him to his wounds as she got back in her car and drove away.
Jax's face was hurting as he drove back to Charming. He did not expect his evening to turn out that way. He was being truthful that he didn't want to tell her about his release just in case it fell through. Then, he found out that she was having a reading in Oakland, and he wanted to make sure she was safe. Maybe it was a bit of paranoia, but things with the Mayans were never cool. She may not be his old lady, but he knew that people knew her and their history.
He had been hopeful that nothing would pop off, but that could never be the case.
And he knew he pissed Quinn off, and he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't speak for a while after this.
He wouldn't blame her. He pulled into the driveway of his newly purchased house. He had been making a lot of money lately, and investing seemed like a good idea. So he bought a quaint three-bedroom house, and now it was just a big empty house for him to be miserable in.
Jax entered the house through the laundry room and tried to be quiet. He didn't know how he would explain his busted face to anyone.
He just wanted to take a shower and half a bottle of ibuprofen.
However, his wish was not granted as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway.
"Jax?"
He looked up to find Susie coming down the hallway. She was rubbing her eyes as she entered the kitchen.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he winced as she turned on the light.
Any tiredness left her as she took in his injury. "Oh my god, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he told her as she came up and inspected his injuries.
"That doesn't look fine," she scolded and bullied him into a seat. She grabbed one of the many first aid kits stashed around the house. He was silent as she began killing him up.
He thought he didn't deserve her. He had met Susie at a clubhouse party. She was hanging with a sweetbutt Cherry. He vaguely remembered her in high school. The two had hit it off, and he found her wide-doe eyes endearing. She was a teacher at a daycare, and she never questioned him. She didn't mind the late nights. She never asked questions.
It was easy just having a steady, warm body.
Most of all, she didn't remind him of a girl with different colored hair and a pen who was writing deadly words.
