With the common ground that was Kohn, gone, Sydney and Jax struggle to keep their volatile relationship on an even keel, which sends the storm that has been brewing in the widening pit of his stomach, raining down onto the club.
General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.
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CHAPTER 38: RIDE
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Jax sighed as he made his way through the empty halls of St. Thomas at the early hour, with his hands stuffed into his pockets, and the limp that he was still recovering from. He had managed to find the perfect time slot to visit his son where Gemma was busy opening up the shop, and Tara was at home - some place that she had been spending a lot more time at now that she was no longer living at the hospital in attempt to seek refuge from Kohn.
He shook his head as he intentionally scuffed the sole of his gleaming white shoe against the freshly polished floors, desperate for something to fill the silence that had been anything but kind to him over the past few days that he had managed to avoid the noise from everybody else.
But that blaring noise and deafening silence was about to come to a screeching halt as he strolled into the room to see Gemma sitting in the rocking chair.
"Mornin." She looked up from the book that she had been reading to the sleeping baby, a hollowness behind her eyes as the moment that she had been waiting for, for the last forty-eight hours, finally presented itself.
Jax sighed as he looked down at his son, fighting the soft smile that tugged at his lips as he rounded the incubator, peeking up at her through his eyelashes as she fidgeted across the room.
"I'm sorry." He smiled knowingly - the kind of knowing smile that only came from burying the hatchet with a family member who knew that it was unnecessary, in the first place. "I didn't mean to go off on you the other day." He nodded sincerely.
Gemma chewed the inside of her lip as she playfully rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, too." She sighed. "It was a crazy day..." She pushed herself to her feet, making her way over to the incubator, as well. "Strange time, Jax... So much shit is changing. I just worry..." She looked down at the innocent little boy. "About you, about him..."
"About Tara." Jax nodded, bringing her eyes shooting back up to his. "What happened with me and Tara? It's ancient history, mom." He was sure of that now.
"She hurt this family." Gemma shook her head, her voice following soon after as she recounted the mere thought of losing her last living son. "Tried to pull you away."
"I didn't leave, did I?" He raised a brow.
"But she did." Gemma nodded. "Broke your heart."
"I guess." He nodded sadly.
"You guess?" She scoffed. "She crushed you, Jax."
"I was nineteen." He rolled his eyes. "It was first love bullshit, I grew up, I got over it." He shook his head. "It's time you got over it too."
"Somebody hurts your baby?" Gemma looked back down at his baby. "You never get over it."
Jax nodded slowly, deciding that this was the closest that they were going to get to an agreement. "I'll see you back at the garage." He gave her hand a squeeze as he made his way back out to his bike in hopes of one of his mind-clearing rides around town that had become harder and harder to come by.
He ground his teeth the entire drive through the small town, only relenting on the pressure as he reached the outskirts where he waited for it; the release. But it didn't come, and that only made the raging storm of confusion that much darker as he realized that he no longer had an escape from the suffocation of his life - of his choices. Everything felt wrong. If things were quiet in the club, they were loud somewhere else. He just couldn't shake the feeling that there was always something around the corner, something lurking in the shadows, something waiting to be uncovered…
His brow creased as he rounded a bend to see a truck pulled to the side of the road, along with multiple cars - a wrinkle in his forehead following as he stood from the seat, trying to get a look at what was going on as he pulled up next to the Oswald truck.
"Oh, shit..." He groaned, squeezing his brakes as his eyes widened when they landed on the driver who was laid across the hood of the tanker, impaled on the broken glass of the windshield. He ripped off his helmet, his eyes scanning over the small group of onlookers for someone who could help him before they landed on the only man who stood among the terrified women.
"Come on, man!" He shook his head. "Get up on the hood!"
"Okay, man. Okay." The hispanic man nodded as soon as the angry order from the biker hit his ringing ears, quickly doing as he was told.
Jax jumped up into the driver's seat where he looked around the blood-spattered interior - a sight that, for once, didn't make him queasy. "Alright." He nodded to his assistant that, by the look on his face, he could tell didn't share in his stability. "On three." He nodded. "One, two, three!" He grimaced as the trucker began howling the second that they lifted him, his leg squirting a steady stream of blood that he was almost sure was from a severed artery, as they passed him down to the EMT's who had just arrived on the scene.
"Jesus..." He tore his eyes away from the gruesome scene, pulling off his sunglasses to wipe them clean when he saw what had likely caused the crash; a bag of crystal meth laying by the brake pedal. He looked around, being sure that no one had seen it before he swiped it and stuffed it into the pocket of his kutte. He knew that this could only mean one thing..
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"Darby runs his meth operation out of the truck stops in Pope - it's where all the mill drivers score their crank." Opie nodded as he puffed on a joint.
Sydney fought the urge to roll her eyes as Captain Obvious stated what they had already done the leg-work to find out, but of course, he wouldn't know anything about that...
"Well." Juice shrugged. "This is definitely Darby's shit." He nodded as he held up the bag to everyone who stood around the bar while Jax stood at the sink in his wifebeater, washing his hands free of the blood from the accident. "This rock's been stepped on so many times, it's barely a narcotic." He scoffed.
"See, Darby's making his move into Charming..." Tig growled, trying once again to convince his crew that Darby needed to be handled, and not in the pussy way that Jax had convinced them of before. "This is gonna send a bad message to Oswald, and Darby knows it."
"How would Darby even know about our deal with Oswald?" Jax scoffed.
Tig shook his head, turning towards his President - the man that he truly answered to. "Clay, we need to send this Nazi asshole a clear message, now-"
"Alright." Jax interrupted the impulsive Sergeant before he could send everybody into a tirade. "Why don't we just go talk to the driver? Ask him where he bought the meth?"
Tig scowled incredulously from where he leant on the bartop. He couldn't believe that the pretty little prince was really going to try and play the good cop angle once again, while it was in the midst of backfiring on them since the last time.
Clay looked between the two. "Go." He nodded to Jax before hanging his head in disapproval. He knew that Tig was right - the skinhead crew fucking with the few allies that they had left did need to be handled, but he didn't have time to play referee between his left, and right hand when he had bigger things to worry about; like how they were going to come up with $55k in the next two days with the feds up their asses, and no alternative earning tactics.
Jax looked smugly at Tig, sharing his smirk with Opie before yanking his kutte out from under where Tig's arm was resting, waltzing out while the shaken Sergeant stared him down.
"You can check that fucking attitude at the door on your way out." He heard from behind him, recognizing the cocky voice all too well...
Sydney couldn't help herself. She knew that she was playing with fire - calling him out over something seemingly so small - but the list of times that the VP had blatantly disrespected anyone who didn't share in whatever fleeting opinion he'd had in the moment, was growing far longer than her ability to bite her tongue could handle, and that wasn't what this club was about.
"Excuse me?" Jax seethed, handing his kutte to Opie whose smirk fell as he watched his friend walk up on the little girl.
"I said-" She walked up to him with the same confidence. "When your bullshit plan landed us here in the first place? We have the right to tell you to sit the fuck down. In case you've forgotten, this is a democracy, and your decisions affect all of us. You want something done your way? Call a vote." They stood toe to toe, her white cork wedges bringing her to a height that almost had their noses touching.
"Those are some big words from a little girl with nothing more than a dead daddy to vouch for her." Jax surprised himself with the vile words that came from his mouth in a growl - realizing that apparently the cost of acting without violence, was his common decency.
"And those are some low blows from a little boy who doesn't realize that he ain't so different…" She shook her head slowly, speaking in a raspy, mock-pout before tilting her head to the side. "Do you hear how you sound when you speak to people, Jackson?" She quirked a brow. "Because they do…" She nodded to the group of silent men behind her. "You might wanna think about that..." Her eyes flicked back up to his as she brushed her thumb over the V. President flash on his puffed out chest.
He glared at her as his chest heaved with conflict between what his instinct was telling him to do, and what his father would do in the same situation - because the two were complete opposites. He blinked through the red that clouded his vision, telling himself over and over that she just wanted a reaction - that she wanted him to hit her in front of everyone, which was the only thing that stopped him.
"Get outta here!" Clay hollered. "Go!"
Opie grabbed Jax's arm, yanking him away from Sydney who stood her ground with a smirk. The VP shook his head as he pulled himself from his best friend's grasp, stalking out of the clubhouse as he ignored Tig's icy eyes on him.
Sydney took a deep breath, composing herself as she turned around with a cheerful smile and returned to her spot at the bar between Clay and Tig as everyone stared at her with furrowed brows.
"Why're you letting him go, Clay?" Tig squinted as he shook his head.
"I got other shit to worry about!" Clay's frustration boiled over. "If he wants to play boy scout, let him!" He yelled.
Chibs sighed as his President stormed out of the room, looking wearily at Juice who knew as well as he did, that they were fucked. "If you ever want to own a top rocker, prospect?" He turned to Half-Sack who had been teetering on the edge of the bar. "Then you better bring $15k to the table, sharpish." He nodded, bringing his cigarette up to his lips. "You got me?" He lightly slapped the poor kid's cheek, an action that Juice repeated with a grin - because for once, it wasn't him who had fucked up.
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"That stupid bitch." Jax spit his disgust down onto the pavement the second that they stepped out of the clubhouse.
"She's just trying to earn her way in, man." Opie shrugged. "Prove that she has the balls."
"Yeah, well." The VP chewed the inside of his cheek. "Questioning and officer ain't the way to do that." He shook his head as he strapped his helmet.
Opie stopped, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. "I don't need to tell you how that sounds..."
"You think I'm trying to go up against Clay?" Jax growled, dropping his hands down to his sides as he raised a brow impatiently.
"Just calling it like I see it, brother." Opie shrugged again - the fact that the shorter man had come to the conclusion on his own, telling him everything that he needed to know.
"She give you a taste of that pussy too?" Jax scoffed. He was shocked that out of all people, Opie would be the one to defend them. He rolled his eyes, firing up his bike and driving off towards the hospital - not caring if his partner followed him, or not.
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Juice leant against the tow truck as he listened to the whirring of the machine lifting the front end of a green Ford, clacking away on his phone. "Good news!" He held it up to Half-Sack who he could see was still desperately trying to figure out how he could help with the cash. "Bobby got that gig in Laughlin to front the pay - got another $5k."
"Oh, great." Half-Sack nodded. "So we only gotta come up with $50k now, not $55k." He winced, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed nervously.
"Can't look at it like that, man." Juice shrugged. He had been in these kinds of positions with the club, countless times - they always worked out. But the bald man got no answer, looking over to see his light-haired counterpart with his blue gaze affixed to an ambulance that was pulling into a parking lot across the street.
"Dude..." Half-Sack rounded the car. "Handle this for me." He tossed a nod over his shoulder as he waited for a break in traffic.
"Where are you going?" Juice scowled.
"To get my top rocker!"
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After sharing a wordless smoke break in the St. Thomas parking lot where both men silently agreed to carry on as if nothing had happened - as men do - Jax and Opie made their way through the sliding glass doors, and to the ER.
"Shit." Jax heard beside him, feeling a nudge on his arm that he half-hoped was because Opie had seen Tara, but his wishful thinking was cut short as he followed the taller man's gaze to the hallway where two men emerged. "Darby's guys..." Opie recognized two stocky men who had to be new recruits - because they still had hair.
"Can't be good..." Jax nodded, eyeing the men down as they made their way out - hurrying to the room that they had just come from.
"Holy shit..." Opie shook his head as they entered the room to see the already severely injured truck driver, now beaten bloody, and groaning through the pain that even the I.V. in his arm did nothing to dull.
"Why'd they do this?" Jax scowled as he looked over the man who was rolling around the hospital bed.
"I was in way deep with Darby on my crank debt." The dark-haired man spit out a mouthful of blood. "Like $3k."
"Where you buying?" Jax nodded.
"Up in Pope."
"Not in Charming?" Opie raised a brow.
"Can't score shit in this town." The trucker scoffed. That was why he'd taken a job on the road.
"Anybody you want us to call?" Opie nodded sympathetically. "Family? Friends?"
"No." The man groaned, shaking his head in a wince. "God, Oswald's gonna fire my ass when he finds that empty tanker, man."
"What are you talking about?" Jax scowled.
"They said that the diesel was payment for my crank debt." He nodded out the door. "Came here, beat the shit out of me, stole my keys."
"A full tanker?" Jax raised a brow. He knew that kind of volume was worth more than $3k, much more...
"Yeah." He nodded. "It's at the county impound off of 18."
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"What the hell am I doin' meetin' you down here in the middle of nowhere?" Unser came barrelling out of his squad car after wearily rolling down the dirt road - hoping that the abrupt greeting would mask the worry that he had...
"Official police business." Jax smirked, pulling his sunglasses off as he leant against the hood of the white sedan. "Darby is dealing meth up in Pope."
"And why would I give a shit what happens in Pope?" Unser raised a brow once he was sure that he wasn't about to be assassinated.
"I don't know." Jax shrugged. "Just felt that it was my civic duty to share information on a crime. You know? Set a good example and all."
"Yeah..." Unser sighed in the presence of the VP's smugness - a trait that he had enjoyed the absence of, as of late. "SAMCRO is a leader in perpetuating civic reform." He scoffed, his gaze trailing beyond the younger man's light hair, and up the hill to the side of the highway where Opie was guarding a giant silver truck. "Why am I looking at one of Oswald's tankers?" He scowled.
"Ah." Jax nodded. "I figured you wouldn't be interested in Darby, which is why I already fed that intel to Trammel. But I figured that the owner of Unser Trucking might find some interest in that." He nodded to the tanker that he and Opie had managed to take from Darby's half-bright newbies with nothing more than a persistent chase, and a few rogue gunshots. "It's 8,500 gallons of diesel, and it's yours for $20k."
"Stolen diesel." Unser widened his eyes.
Jax smirked. "Gas costs gotta be killing your bottom line. I'm offering you a fifty-percent discount."
"Half the cost, twice the risk." Unser shook his head.
"Come on..." Jax rolled his eyes. "You fill your pumps after dark, and a uni finds the tanker on the side of the road. Insurance covers Oswald, and you run your trucks at a buck-ninety a gallon for the next six weeks. Where's the risk in that?"
"Jesus Christ." Unser sighed under the charming smirk of the town's self-proclaimed prince. "Can you at least pretend that I'm a cop sometimes?"
"I'm gonna need that in cash." Jax grinned.
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"You're not fooling me, you know." Sydney looked at Tig from across the picnic table where they were attempting to enjoy the warm summer air after this morning's frustrations, with a raised brow, and a small smirk.
"What d'ya mean?" He feigned innocence as she looked between him, and the bowl of untouched strawberries that they had been 'sharing' between sips from a bottle of tequila since the busy work day had finally come to a close.
"You need to eat something without an alcohol percentage." She chortled, taking her bare feet off of his lap from under the table where they had been resting.
"I did eat, babe." He nodded, knowing full well that he hadn't eaten a damn thing all day.
"You said that you liked strawberries." She pouted as she plucked a berry from the glistening pile, wrapping her lips around it before sinking her teeth into the tart flesh, and letting the juice dribble down her chin.
"No, I said I like that you taste like strawberries." He shot her a wolfish grin. "Come here." He nodded to his side of the table.
"Nu-uh…" She caught the stray drip with her thumb, shaking her head with a devious smile as she sucked on her digit.
"Okay, okay fine. You come sit with me, I'll eat." He nodded.
Sydney bit her lip, squinting as she playfully contemplated his offer before reluctantly getting up and making her way over to where he sat sideways, with his arms out. But she didn't sit down, instead grabbing a strawberry and holding it to his lips.
"Come on-"
"Nope." She cut off his whining. "You said you would eat. Open up."
Tig sighed, opening his mouth so that she could feed him - almost choking when she shoved her fingers down his throat in the process. She cackled when his eyes widened in surprise, waiting until she was satisfied that he had swallowed, to sit sideways on his lap where she took a swig of tequila.
Tig felt the tense of his muscles instantly release once she was close; her warm skin soothing his boiling blood, and her sweet scent calming his racing mind. He wrapped his arm around her waist, squeezing her hip appreciatively while his other hand rested between her thighs, underneath her peach coloured dress.
Sydney's body tingled under his strong hands holding her so protectively, so possessively. She slid another strawberry into her mouth as she rested her head against his chest, looking up at him as her lazy eyes roamed over his neck, his jaw, his mouth - watching him grind his teeth as he stared off into the distance.
"Cheer up, Tiggy." She pouted, caressing his neck with her fingertips as she inhaled his scent.
Tig snapped out of it, looking down to see her moistened lips in a frown. "I'm sorry, baby." He shook his head, tightening his grip on her. He felt bad to be taking a moment like this for granted, a moment where she was in his lap, gawking at him with his hand under her dress; a moment he would've only dreamt of, a few months ago - a moment that his mind wouldn't let him enjoy.
"I think I can forgive you." She spoke against his neck, dragging her tongue over the vein where she lightly nipped at his skin before moving her lips to his ear. "Now eat." She grinned before biting his ear lobe.
Tig felt a smile pulling at his lips, and his dick twitching in his pants when her cold lips grazed his skin. "Gimme one." He nodded to the bowl, reaching for the bottle of tequila.
Sydney grabbed a berry and fed it to him nicely this time, hooking her fingers under his lip as she slid them out of his mouth before placing them into her own, peering up at him through her eyelashes as she licked them clean.
Tig growled at the erotic sight, taking a swig from the bottle before he tilted her head back and spat it into her mouth, letting her swallow before he descended his lips on hers, stroking her jaw while his tongue devoured her fruity, tequila-flavored mouth.
"You're so fucking sexy." Sydney moaned, feeling her intoxication level instantly double as he kissed her so slowly - so sensually, holding onto his neck while his hand returned between her thighs, his fingertips just barely grazing the thin fabric of her panties.
"I love you." He whispered against her lips.
"I love you." She nodded, staring dreamily into that crystal blue abyss before he pulled her back upright to rest against his chest.
"Mmm, I should've got some champagne if I knew that alcohol was the only way to get you to eat." She joked as she picked up another berry.
"There's not much to celebrate right now, doll." He spoke dismally, picking at the peeling paint on the picnic table with a grimace.
"Looks like that's about to change…" She raised a brow as she watched Half-Sack driving onto the lot in his apparent new ride, with Juice trailing behind in the tow - the two sharing a look of confusion before heading over to investigate.
"So... You stole an ambulance?" Juice was startled by Tig's voice, turning around to see the Sergeant looking at him incredulously as he closed the bay doors to the garage, concealing the stolen vehicle before anybody else could see it.
"I had nothing to do with this." The Puerto Rican man shook his head rapidly, pointing to Half-Sack.
"Yeah." The prospect nodded smugly, leaning against his prize. Sydney snickered at his obliviousness from where she sat by the row of toolboxes. If there was anything that could be said about Kip, it was that he was amusing. "These things are worth like, a hundred grand, easy."
"Yeah, they are." Clay entered the garage. "That's why the people who buy them are like, state, and federal agencies and shit." He smiled knowingly.
"Okay." Half-Sack nodded, glad that Clay knew the kind of market to sell one of these things - that crossed the next thing off of his to-do list.
"So… You want him to sell a stolen vehicle to the government?" Sydney raised her brow with a smirk, making everybody laugh as Half-Sack's face fell.
"Oh... Uh, just, like… Sell it to a small hospital or somethin' then." He tried to remain composed, sure that this could still be favorable for the club.
"Oh, like, uh... Uncle Freddy's infirmary? Or what?" Clay shrugged.
"Why don't you steal a fire engine next? And then we could have our own rescue center!" Tig mocked.
"Okay, okay. I get it." He sighed as Juice patted his back playfully. "I was just tryin' to, you know… Show a little initiative."
"Hey, Chibs." Clay laughed along with everyone else. He hadn't been able to grin this big in a while, and for that he was thankful. "Drive this around back as soon as it gets dark."
"You got it." Chibs snickered, turning towards the bay door as it slid up, revealing Jax.
"What the hell is this?" The VP scowled when he saw that an ambulance was taking up half of the garage.
"My prospect." Chibs beamed sarcastically with his arm around Half-Sack's shoulders.
"Just, you know..." Half-Sack rolled his eyes. "Thinking outside of the box."
"You get a chance to talk to that tanker driver?" Clay asked, glad that their new piece of property provided a buffer.
"Yeah, Nords aren't dealing in town." Jax's tone was understanding as he spoke to Clay, but a smugness coated his tongue once his gaze found its way to Sydney and Tig. "Driver bought the crank up in Pope - that's where he filled his tanker up with diesel." Tig ground his teeth while Sydney stood, unblinking as she waited for him to reveal the reasoning behind the stupid fucking smirk on his face. "That I just sold to Unser, for $20k." He pulled a stack of cash out of his pocket with a giant grin, provoking a round of applause.
"My brother." Clay shook his head, hugging his VP gratefully while Tig looked away bitterly, and Sydney brought the bottle to her lips.
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Happy awoke in yet another unfamiliar bed as the first light of day began to light the naturally dark room. He squinted, rubbing his eyes as he forced his brain to recognize his surroundings as he hastily got to his feet and looked around - realizing that it was Jax's old dorm in the SAMCRO clubhouse. Since Sydney and Tig had made up, the ravenous couple had made the last couple of nights in his adjacent dorm, unbearable - and apparently he'd made the impulse decision in the middle of the night to move into the newly vacant one, down the hall.
The bald man emerged in search of some much-needed coffee, completing the shorter walk from the new room, to the kitchen where he crossed the threshold - scratching his head before he looked up to see Sydney standing in her pyjamas - if the clothing that barely covered her could be called that - while she waited for the pot to finish brewing; a sight he used to wake up to every day.
"Mornin'." She greeted with a smirk as she looked him up and down where he stood; shirtless, barefoot, and clothed in only a pair of basketball shorts.
"Didn't think you'd be up." He grunted.
"Why'd you move dorms?" She pouted.
Happy rolled his eyes. He'd barely been up for five minutes, he didn't understand how Sydney already knew that he'd swapped beds for the night. "Same reason I didn't think you'd be up." He pushed past her and poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Awe, come on, vato." She pushed his shoulder playfully. "You know I've always loved being your wingman, ain't it time to return the favor?" She mused with that eternally playful glint behind her eye - even at 6:00 A.M. on a Saturday.
"Not when I gotta hear my princessa gettin' fucked by a brother." He scoffed.
"I thought you'd be happy for me..." She bit her lip, looking down as she swayed back and forth innocently.
"Think I liked it better when you were fighting." His expression stayed in that same, hard-set grimace as he stared into his cup of steaming black liquid.
"Now you know how I felt all those years..." Her eyes widened as she looked back up. "My turn for some fun." She winked, turning on the heels of her fuzzy pink slippers. "Besides, I know it turns you on..." She grinned over her shoulder.
"Shouldn't wear shit like that around here if you want them to take you seriously." Happy retorted with the first thing that he could think of before turning back to his coffee.
Sydney rolled her eyes, surely she and Tig hadn't nearly been loud enough for him to be taking such cheap shots. She sighed, dropping her shoulders as she sauntered up to where he stood, bracing himself on the countertop - pressing herself against his side as her fingertips danced over his chest. "You take me seriously though, don't you, Hap?" She rasped, dragging her thumb across the word FAMILY tattooed on his collarbone - if he wanted to play dirty, she was game.
Happy recoiled harshly from the gentle touch that he knew was anything but, knocking over his coffee in the process. He exhaled sharply, not bothering to clean up his mess before storming out of the kitchen. He would be getting his coffee from the diner today.
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Even after Sydney had gone above and beyond to distract Tig from Jax's bullshit over the course of the night, his jaw was still clenched angrily as he passed through the chapel doors, not eager to face whatever new bullshit the VP would ruin her efforts with, this morning.
"Picked up a little side gig from Trammel for some extra cash - supports our cause." Clay nodded pointedly as he sat down.
"Darby?" Tig asked hopefully.
"Nah, Mayans." The older man shook his head. "Heroin packing site just outside of Lodi - came across it while he was out lookin' for Darby."
Tig felt his teeth threatening to crack as his jaw tightened even more when Jax shot him a smug smirk from across the table. "So they're still working together." He stated, turning his attention back to his President.
"Maybe." Clay sighed, eagerly moving on from the topic before it could start another dick-swinging contest. "Trammel's gonna front us the cash - $5k."
"Is this gonna set off shit with the Mayans?" Sydney scowled. She thought that was what they had been actively trying not to do, this whole time.
"Not as long as we do it right." Clay smirked.
"And what does that mean?" His gaze snapped towards a seething Jax, but Tig answered before he could.
"It means that we leave no witnesses." The Sergeant snapped.
Clay took a deep breath when the table fell silent, all eyes on Jax and Tig as they stared each other down. "Monday morning when the place is empty, before you drive the guns up." He didn't have the strength to indulge Jax's doubts and worries anymore - he had his own to think about.
"So where does that leave us with McKeevy?" Chibs raised a brow behind his dark sunglasses that he wore even in the dimly lit room.
Speaking of his own doubts and worries... "One-seventy-five." He sighed through his now gritted teeth. "We still need twenty-five more… That's twenty-five that we would've had if it weren't for Jury!" He slammed his fist against the table.
"This ain't Jury's fault." Jax shook his head.
"You're right." He smiled sarcastically. "If you would've managed to get up there without pissing off the Mayans the first time, we would've already have that cash."
"It was never my idea to sell him guns." Jax looked right at Sydney. "So how about you start lookin' around the table for someone else to blame." He snarled, turning his attention back to his stepfather. "What about your little fighting gig? You never told us what happened with that."
"Lowell was a junkie!" Clay spit back.
"He was doing good." Jax shook his head. "Showing up to work, taking care of Moby… He wouldn't throw that away just to go back to the needle without a good reason." He wasn't sure if he actually believed the words coming out of his own mouth, but he knew that something about what had happened, was off. He had experienced countless relapses from the man that, for many years, he saw as a brother, but this one was different. And every time that he tried to pinpoint whatwas different about it, all that he could see was that conversation that he'd witnessed between the two in the garage.
"A grilling from the feds on a recovering addict is a pretty damn good reason to me." Sydney scoffed.
"Lowell's always had issues." Bobby nodded.
"You know what they say; like father, like son." Tig agreed.
"Yeah." Jax scoffed, looking between Sydney, Tig, and Clay. "I guess you'd know all about that." He spit out before he stormed out of the chapel, leaving a table of nervous brothers in his wake.
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Tara laid on her back, staring mindlessly at the ceiling as the minutes continued to tick by on her birthday. She had never really been one to celebrate, but she had also never really been one to stay in bed until noon - both of which were influenced by one thing; Jax.
She sighed as she lifted her abnormally heavy body from the worn mattress that she knew was taking a toll on her back. She ran her hands over her face as she blew out a sigh. She should've felt light, relieved, free. Because for the first time in her life, she actually was. But all she felt was a heaviness that she didn't quite understand the weight of. It wasn't a heaviness that was chaining her down, unwillingly tying her to this place the way that she'd felt in the past. It was a heaviness on her heart rather than her mind. A heaviness that she knew exactly how to lift, but she feared would crush her, just like it had done before.
She shook the thoughts away, dragging herself through the house and into the kitchen where she sat down at the table, and began flipping through a catalogue for a new mattress.
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"That for Clay?" Bobby nodded to the Budweiser, and plate of nachos in Sydney's hand as she prepared to present him with her bribe.
"Figured he might be getting bored of me riding his cock, gotta switch it up a little." She winked playfully, sending a husky laugh rippling through Bobby's chest as she brushed past him and headed to the chapel where she found Clay sitting at the head of the empty table with his head hung, and the gavel in his hand. "Hey."
He looked up at the sound of the perky voice. "Hey, Princess." He was unable to keep the smile off of his face.
"You okay?" She set what Tig had insisted was his idea of a 'perfect lunch' down onto the table in front of him.
"Ah." He shrugged. "Just a rough patch, we'll come out on the other side."
"Damn right we will." She nodded with a smile. "Do you think I could borrow Tig for the day?" She widened her eyes hopefully, innocently. "I promise it'll be worth your while..."
"And how exactly will you getting that tight little pussy pounded all day long, be worth my while?" He raised a brow.
"I guess you're just gonna have to find out." She mused playfully.
"This what you're buttering me up for?" He nodded to the plate that was stacked high with what she had somehow found out was his favorite food.
"My daddy always taught me not to beg empty-handed." She winked.
"Smart man." He chuckled with a nod.
"We can consider it payback for the other day." She smiled devilishly as she pushed herself away from the table, watching him raise a brow as she got testy. "I'll bring him back in a better mood!" She called over her shoulder, not waiting for an answer as she went to collect Tig from where he sat, brooding at the bar with a cigarette in one hand, and a beer in the other.
"You're comin with me, I got an idea." She grabbed his hand, dragging him out the door before he could protest.
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Jax found himself getting more and more engrossed in his father's manuscript. He couldn't tell if it was the disconnect from the club pushing him closer to his father's concerns for the legacy that he built, or his father's concerns for the legacy that he built, disconnecting him from the club.
Einstein said that any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. But it takes a touch of genius and lots of courage to move something in the opposite direction. I'm realizing that my touch of genius, and my courage are coming too little, too late. And I fear that for SAMCRO… There may be no opposite direction.
He nodded as he read the words, soaking up their true meaning, understanding exactly what his dad was talking about, because nothing had changed since he wrote these words. He had been right, because if there was an opposite direction for SAMCRO, they would've found it already.
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"Come on Tiggy, at least pretend you're interested in where we're going." Sydney pouted as Tig begrudgingly sat in the passenger seat with a permanent frown as they rolled through the hills of Northern Cali.
"Sorry." He apologized half-heartedly, looking out the window as they passed a welcome sign for Roseville, his mind reverting back to Jax - which had been the cause of the wordless ride that they'd begun almost an hour ago.
"You gotta ditch that attitude for what I got in store." She warned with a shake of her head.
Tig turned to her with a raised brow. "What are we-" But he trailed off once he caught sight of where they were going as the giant race track of the All American Speedway spilled out before his eyes.
"Sydney Harding." She reported to the track worker as they drove up to the admissions booth, looking at Tig with a giddy smile as the smell of burning rubber, and the sound of cheering crowds filled the car.
"Alright, you're booked in at the blue track for two hours." The overweight man nodded to the track on the left. "I can get the car in for the first race on that track if you wanna give me your entry fee here, or you can try out some of the other ones - just have to wait in line." He pointed out the separate drag strips around the grounds opposite to the NASCAR track.
"Nah, we'll start at the blue." Sydney pulled a wad of cash out of her pocket, exchanging it for the numbered tag that she displayed on the dashboard before driving over to the track where they were expected.
"We're racing?" Tig's face lit up like a Christmas tree before the reality hit him, trying to maintain his expression long enough for it to fall naturally so that she wouldn't question it. Never in a million years would he have guessed that this was what she'd planned for the day, and it made him feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet for letting her treat him like a king, when he hadn't been able to appreciate any of it.
"Nope." She pulled up the parking brake and took the keys out of the ignition, tossing them to a now very confused Tig. "You are." She cocked a brow with an evil smirk as she got out of the car and pulled the red bandana from her hair, letting her long locks cascade down her back as she strutted towards the starting line.
Tig grinned as he watched her walk to the middle of the race track with her bandana in hand, realizing what it was that she was doing with her legs on display in the tiny denim shorts, and her tits out in the black top - a sight alone that was enough to silence his conscience, for now. He shook his head, unable to stop smiling as he moved to the driver's seat and rolled up to the starting line.
Sydney grinned at Tig from where she stood between the two cars. She motioned for the racers to drive up, waving the bandana above her head when they came to a stop and began revving their engines. She tossed Tig a wink right before she dropped to her knees, signaling the start of the race.
Tig took off half of a second late, being too distracted by Sydney - but he quickly recovered, maneuvering through the gears and taking over the stock Nissan GTR, with ease. He grinned when he crossed the finish line after the quarter-mile, smacking the top of the steering wheel as a rush of adrenaline hit him.
Sydney spent her two hours as the flag girl while Tig raced, watching him drive her dad's car with a pride that had her grinning from ear to ear. Once she was relieved of her duties, the pair spent the remainder of the afternoon dominating the All American Speedway. They'd lost a few to some of the lighter cars, but Sydney's hefty pile of SAMCRO earnings from the last two months had made it easy for them to recover. And by the end of the day, with her payout for directing the racers - and tips directly from them - they had managed to quadruple the amount of money that they'd come with.
"I believe that we are..." Sydney announced as she counted the cash, dramatically placing the final bill into the pile while the sun set behind the Roseville hills and she and Tig sat on the hood of her car on a dirt road not far from the track. "Flush for the Irish." She grinned.
"You did this for the club…" Tig's brows knit when he realized not only how much they'd made, but that she had risked thousands of her own dollars for this - which made him feel a little better about being so distracted from her efforts.
"You didn't think it was just about havin' fun, did ya?" She joked as she hopped off of the car, leaning into the open window where she placed the two rolls of cash in the cupholders, and pulled a joint from the glovebox.
"Here I was thinkin' you just wanted to spoil me." Tig winked, leaning back against the windshield.
"Well, that was just a bonus." She smirked, settling against his side where she sparked up the marijuana, watching the smoke drift into the darkening sky.
"You're amazing…" Tig spoke in awe. "Thank you..." He'd needed this; a day away, but he knew that the club needed him, more - and Sydney had somehow managed to find a way to let him have both.
"You're welcome, baby." She smiled, handing over the joint where she watched him bring it to his lips, squinting as the wave of relaxation rolled over him. "Can I ask you something?"
If it weren't for the effects of the weed, Tig likely would've tensed under that question. He looked down at her innocently hopeful eyes, nodding wearily as he traced her collarbone with his fingertips - as if his touch would stop her from asking whatever dreaded question she had for him.
"Why didn't Clay kill Lowell?" She asked gently. It had been eating her alive ever since they saw him lying in the back of that van. He was a liability, possibly even more than his father had been. She couldn't understand why Clay would risk keeping him alive to rat him out to the feds - or worse, the club.
Tig sighed, taking another hit before he had to answer the question that he was relieved to hear required far less complicated of an answer. "Couldn't do it, I guess…" He'd been wondering the same thing, although he obviously knew the situation better than Sydney - knew that Clay harboured guilt over why Lowell Sr. was really killed, which was why he'd taken Lowell in as his own after it happened, in the first place.
"That doesn't sound like Clay." Sydney's brows knit.
"When Lowell found out his dad was… Gone." Tig chose his words carefully - in a way that made the memory lessuncomfortable. "Clay took him in. Taught him how to turn wrenches, gave him a job at TM, got him through school." He nodded.
"I guess Clay never had any of his own kids." She surmised with a nod of her own, the mercy making a little more sense to her now.
"Jax never really accepted him as a father, even when he was young." He nodded. "I remember one time, we took Lowell out to learn to drive. Neither of us had anything to teach him in, and Gemma wouldn't let us use her car, so Clay had to teach him in the El Camino." Tig laughed at the memory of the scrawny teenager behind the wheel of Clay's beloved car - a terror of his President that Tig had not seen, since. "We used to race that car actually, back in the day. Me, Clay, JT…" He trailed off.
Sydney smiled as he recited the happy memory, but her smile began to fade when a wave of sadness punched her in the chest. He had so many memories - happy and sad, that she would never be a part of. "You've lived a whole life without me..." She stated glumly, looking down at his hand with a sad smile where she was tracing his silver cross ring.
"And you haven't without me?" He looked down inquisitively.
"Only half as long." She remarked with a playful smile.
"You sayin' you wish you were my age?" He teased.
"No." She chuckled. "Just that we'd met sooner…"
"Doll, if we met any sooner? I would've gotten myself a death wish, and an orange jumpsuit." He chose to keep the mood light. Of course he wished that she'd been a larger part of his life, but letting himself think about that would've been the real death wish.
"Woulda been worth it…" She smirked.
"Hell yeah it would've" He growled playfully, leaning down to kiss her.
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Tig laid with his hands folded behind his head which rested against the headboard of his bed, staring blankly at the TV as Sydney's words played over and over in his head in a melody that his demon's couldn't seem to get enough of...
"You gonna turn that on?" Sydney looked at the black screen with a raised brow as she stood next to the bed, removing her necklace.
"Nah." He snapped out of it. "Tired." He blinked a few times for believability before she climbed into bed laid herself across his chest.
Hours passed as Tig lay awake among the white noise, but all he could hear was one sound. You've lived a whole life without me. You've lived a whole life without me. You've lived a whole life witho-. The rhythm was cut off by her stirring against his chest.
"You okay, baby?" He whispered, brushing her hair behind her ear as he stroked her cheek.
"Mhmm." She hummed, inhaling a soothing scent that she recognized anywhere. "It's raining." She smiled without opening her eyes, listening to the peaceful drizzle outside the window at the early hour - a rare bliss in California.
"Yeah, it is." Tig nodded, feeling his heart shrinking in his chest as his fist tightened around her hair, trying desperately to fight off tears - an action that used up all of his strength, and eventually lulled him to sleep.
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Songs for this chapter
You Shook Me All Night Long - ACDC
Cola - Lana Del Rey