Sydney takes ignoring her feelings to the next and most unlikely level with the VP who has found himself in the same boat after Tara shuts him out. But in the process of trying to forget about Tig, she loses herself.

General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, mentions of drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.

Playlists are available on Apple Music (mssierraalexis), and Spotify (M.S. Alexis), links can also be found on the ARAC Tumblr (aravenamongcrows). Be sure to follow where ask and submissions are open, and m. s. alexis on Instagram (tracking #aravenamongcrows), for exclusive photos, updates, and more!

CHAPTER 42: OUT OF BODY

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Tig tapped his foot impatiently against the floor of the floater dorm he'd been given as he endured his second lonely night of misery in the desert. There had been zero progression with the Mayans; Jury and his crew were still being held hostage in Vegas with no explanation, and he was still hundreds of miles away from Sydney. He blew out a grumbly breath as he fell back onto the uncomfortable bed that Sydney's feathered mattress had conditioned him to hate. This was supposed to be a short trip; a short trip that he was already frustrated with having to take after leaving things so messy - now he was stuck in Nevada for God knows how long.

He rolled onto his side, resorting to counting floorboards - an action that took him back to his military days when he would be stuck awake after lights out with no distractions from his thoughts. There were plenty of distractions in Nevada - young, tight, and willing distractions, but he needed to stay on track if he was going to get Sydney back. Indulging in some easy pussy to silence his guilt for ten minutes would only conjure up more self-loathing, and self-loathing was what had caused him to lose her in the first place.

;

"Jesus Christ." Half-Sack shook his head as he placed the Xbox controller down after yet another Forza loss, rubbing his neck as he eyed the clock on the microwave where he was shocked to see that it was nearing 3:00 A.M.. "Uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I should probably get going..." He knew that he would be summoned to the clubhouse within the next few hours, and he didn't need anybody getting the wrong idea...

"Um-" Sydney blinked shyly. "Will you stay?" She had convinced Half-Sack that keeping her company fell under his prospect duties, the two having spent the night playing video games, eating junk food, and drinking beer to occupy their collectively crowded minds. Sydney was eternally grateful to have a friend in the club like Kip - someone who she could trust with both club issues and personal issues, someone who knew when to comfort her instead of ask questions. She'd never had a friend like that before.

"Are you sure?" He hesitated. "You know, I won't like, get in trouble or anything?"

"I have a guest room." She shrugged. Having someone around helped distract her from the impending sadness - something that she recklessly planned on doing until it dissipated completely - while also providing her the sense of normalcy that she become accustomed to when it came to having a man in her house.

"Well then yeah, I could do that." He nodded, standing wobbly from the couch.

"Thank you." Before he knew it, he found himself wrapped in her arms where she squeezed him tightly.

He chuckled nervously before he finally allowed himself to surrender to the moment that he never would've anticipated; smiling as he hugged her back. "Anytime." He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I'll clean up down here, if you wanted to, you know, go get ready for bed..." He nodded up the stairs wearily, hoping that he wasn't overstepping the boundaries that had only just been extended.

"Okay." Sydney nodded softly, not having the energy to argue with the one person who was trying to help her in a way that actually would. But as she let her feet carry her up the stairs and into her bedroom, she felt the dread building - filling the pit of emptiness in her stomach as the time to lay down and be alone with her thoughts neared closer and closer.

"Hey, Syd?"

"Yeah?" She snapped her head up from where it had fallen, catching a glimpse of the hollowness behind her eyes in the mirror that sat on top of her dresser.

"Can I tell you something?" He asked as she padded cautiously into her bedroom.

"Yeah." A slight scowl of concern graced her brow. "Yeah, of course." She nodded more sincerely, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"It's nothin' serious." He shrugged before she could worry herself too much. "I just… You know, I have all these stories from Iraq, and no one to really tell them to…"

Sydney felt a rush of warmth calm the erratic beating of her heart. "Tell me." She nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay." He smiled as he watched her eyes light up - even if they weren't as bright as usual. "You can lie down though, you know how I ramble…" He rubbed the back of his neck.

"That I do." She laughed, climbing under the covers where she got as comfortable as she could while he situated himself at the foot of her bed.

By the time that he'd gotten through two of the most boring topics that he could think of - his drafting, and the armory - the third about military barracks finally had the desired effect, and put Sydney to sleep. He smiled as he listened to her breathing deepen, gently getting up off of the bed and tiptoeing to the door where he reached for the knob on the wall that slowly dimmed the light until the room went dark.

;

Tig shot up from the same godforsaken stiff mattress that he found himself on for the second morning in a row, but it felt like the one-hundred-and-second morning in a row as the spasming muscles in his aching back reminded him what he was missing, what he had walked out on - as if he needed the physical reminder, as well. But he didn't have time to dive into how much he hated himself for the fate that he had created as he realized what had pulled him from what could hardly be called a sound sleep; the roaring engines of motorcycles.

He pulled on his jeans and grabbed his gun before he threw the door open and stalked down the hallway where he was glad to find that Juice wasn't far behind, his finger flinching against the trigger as the doors opened, but he breathed a sigh of relief when his tired eyes landed on Jury, and the rest of Indian Hills.

"Hey, man." Tig breathed out, nodding to the President as he lowered his gun. "How'd you get back? Mayans let up?"

"Yeah…" Jury nodded cautiously. "Took off at day break. No explanation after a two-day surveillance." The white-haired man hadn't had a good feeling about patching S.O.A. from the start, and this was exactly why.

"Let's get the place locked down, Juice will show you the hardware." Tig nodded to his younger brother as he sensed the older man's suspicion, passing off the job so that he could get outside and call Clay for some direction - and hopefully a pass to come home.

"What?" Clay groaned as he rolled over to answer his ringing phone at the offending hour.

"Mayans backed off, let Indian Hills ride back safe." Tig barked down the line.

"What? And they never hit the clubhouse?" Clay scowled. Nothing about this made any sense. "Maybe this whole thing isabout Indian Hills… Ain't got nothin' to do with us, after all."

"Jury, man…" Tig grimaced as he squinted in the rising sun. "He seems pretty sure it's about us..."

Clay sighed as he rested his hand over his forehead, looking over a Gemma who was now awake, and silently probing him for answers. "Stay up there a few more days - show of good faith until we can offer up a proper explanation."

Tig opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it. He'd been dying to get home, to make things right - but he'd learned enough over the past few months of watching Clay with Jax to know that the more he pushed his limits, the harder he would come down on him. "Alright. I'll check in if I hear anything else." He snapped his burner shut, sighing heavily as he dragged his ass back to the uncomfortable bed.

Clay sighed as the line went dead. He hadn't been fooled by Tig's attempt at obedience, but he would rather have a right hand who faked it, than a left hand who embraced it.

;

"What do we think?" Jax asked as he closed the door to the office where he'd followed Sydney after church where Clay had reported the breakthrough in Nevada.

"Whatever we aren't seeing is clouding the whole pool. This shit is murky." Sydney shook her head as she replayed Clay's report over and over in her head, but no matter how many scenarios she ran through, there wasn't a single explanation that formed a clear picture. "What about Darby?" She perked up.

Jax winced when she brought up the sensitive subject that had caused the muscle-clenching spat between them, just days earlier. "Hear me out…" She widened her eyes as she sat down with her hands up. "He's the only one who wouldn't have a problem tipping off the Mayans, and we know he has something to gain by doing it. We know he's pushing further into Charming - even if he is only selling in Pope, he's sending messages with those truckers that he knows will end up here."

"I don't know…" She had a point, but Jax still felt like there was a vital piece of the puzzle missing. "Even if he did tip off the Mayans, and they did somehow know that we were running guns up to Nevada, why would they stand guard for two days with no demands?"

"You're right." She groaned as she slumped over her desk. "They didn't intercept the drop, they didn't send a message... I'm at a loss."

"You find out about Hale?" He raised a brow.

"Nah." She winced. "Saw him at the diner, he seemed cold, but he always seems cold. I'll need more time with him."

"I don't think you'll have a problem with that." He smirked.

"Probably not." She rolled her eyes as she stood from the desk. "Maybe you'll be the one that I throw a beating to in order to get myself locked up next time." She nudged him playfully.

"Ouch." He chuckled. "Guess I'll just have to watch my back." He tossed her a wink as he turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way..." She stopped him. "I talked to Gemma about Tara."

"About Tara?" He scowled. He still hadn't heard from Tara, and even though ATF was still causing them problems, he didn't see how she was still involved.

"Whatever Gemma knew about Tara and Kohn, I stopped her from pressing it further. But I wanted you to know that I didn't tell her or Clay anything about why Kohn was really harassing us."

"What did she know?" Jax bit the inside of his lip.

"She knew that Tara had the restraining order, gave her a gun for protection, knew it was Kohn and that he was the one who broke into your house. I don't know how, but none of it came from me."

"Fuck." Jax shook his head as he looked at his white shoes, running his hand over his face. "It was me." He sighed.

"What?" She scowled. She'd spent days anxiously awaiting what she thought would've been an inevitable confrontation, and subsequent accusation.

"When Kohn messed up shit in my house and she was cleaning it up… I was pissed and let it slip that it was ATF, and that it was because of Tara. She must've put the rest together on her own."

"Well, that's a relief." She scoffed.

"What'd you tell her?" He nodded.

"Same thing I told you - that Clay knowing is dangerous and would do the opposite of what she thinks telling him would." He looked over her skeptically as she shrugged casually, finding it hard to believe that anyone could convince his mother not to try to have Tara banished from the island. "Don't worry, Jaxy." She walked up to him slowly. "I pulled those heartstrings real tight. Mommy won't want to do anything that will get her little boy in trouble." She mock-pouted as she tugged at the lapel of his blue flannel.

"We'll see about that." He scoffed. "But thanks." He nodded gratefully before walking out of the office with a smile.

;

Unfortunately for Sydney, a slow week in the club did not equal a slow week at the clubhouse - finding herself stuck on bar shift for the busy evening. It wasn't that she necessarily wanted to be alone - that was the last thing that she wanted to be - but she was exhausted from not only a very early church after a very late night, but from exercising all of her emotional strength to suppress anything that she felt about what had happened with Tig. She knew that she had to face it sooner or later, but she hoped that maybe if she ignored it for long enough, it wouldn't be as bad when she finally had to deal with it.

She spent most of her shift in a haze, operating like a robot where she allowed herself to pay attention to nothing other than drink orders. As time went on she felt like she could barely keep her eyes open as everything seemed to blur around her; all of the leather-covered bodies blending into one black mass, and all of the chatter fading into a ringing in her ears.

"Princess!" She was startled by Clay's voice, shaking her head and refocusing her eyes.

"Sorry." She blinked a few times. "What'd you want?"

"Take a break. I need to talk to you." He nodded out the door.

It was in that moment that Sydney decided that she'd enjoyed her time of feeling like a robot, because the President's request filled her to the brim with anxiety. She followed him outside where he sat down on top of a picnic table and lit a cigar, sitting beside him where she immediately began wringing her hands in an attempt to try and hide the trembling in her body.

"I, uh… Never got to thank you." He began, not making eye contact as he turned to face her where they sat side by side. "For the money, for McKeevy, for the Mayans… And for everything you've done for this club."

"Ah… It was nothin'." She swatted the air, smiling softly as she realized that the nature of his intent was non-threatening.

"It wasn't." He shook his head confidently. "It was more than any of my guys cared to do."

"Well, it was nothin' to me… But if you wanna keep a tab and put that towards something like a patch in vote… I won't complain." She grinned.

Clay chuckled, bringing his cigar to his lips while she lit up a cigarette. "So, how much of your own cash did you pad McKeevy's pay out with?" He raised a brow.

Sydney's lips curled around her cigarette. "Entry fee was a couple G's, but we made it all back." She shrugged.

"You're a good racer." He nodded.

"Nah, you can thank Tig for that." She answered without thinking, looking away when she realized that she'd just inadvertently rolled out the welcome mat for what she was now sure was why he'd really wanted to talk to her.

"Tig…" He nodded slowly. "You wanna talk about that?"

"Not particularly." She scoffed.

"Had a feeling you'd say that." He smiled softly. "But I think that we need to, after the other day..."

"What's the matter, Pres, can't get on board with a little iron play?" He chuckled, glad that whatever had happened between them hadn't crippled her sense of humour.

"That's not why I wanted to talk about it."

Now her heart was racing again with worry - worry about the one thing that she'd feared this whole time; that her relationship had impacted her dream. "It's like you said before - doesn't interfere with the club." She ground her teeth, keeping her voice level.

"That's not why I wanted to talk about it, either." She scowled, now she was just confused. "I'm not concerned about your ability to separate shit with him. I know you can do your job. What I'm concerned about is you, and how you're doing with it."

Normally, Sydney would ward off any kind of conversation like this, but a bit of reassurance about her position from not only the one person that she so badly wanted to impress, but the one person that she admired most, was not something that she was in a position to push away.

"I'll get over it." She spoke half in determination, and half in hope. "Shit with him… Doesn't change what I want, doesn't change why I'm here." She brought her cigarette to her lips.

"I'd hope not…" He nodded slowly. "Would hate to lose you over a shithead like Tig." The two shared a laugh before parting ways, leaving Sydney feeling a little less dreary as she made her way back inside.

Sydney finished up the last half of her shift that had dragged on just as mundanely as the first half had, eventually finding herself sitting at the bar where she listened to Jessica's mindless chatter while staring into an empty glass of rum and coke. She twirled the straw around in the ice and watered down liquor, trying to gain enough strength to get herself out of the barstool and into her car, but she couldn't seem to find it. She couldn't fathom spending the night alone.

"Hey, Princess." Jax threw his arm around her shoulders as he and Chibs took the empty seats beside her. "You gonna dance with me?"

"Jax." She sighed with a small smile, looking between him and the Scot who were clearly trying to cheer her up. "I'm not really in the mood..."

"Well then I guess we're just gonna have to get you in the mood." Jax shrugged, sharing a look with Chibs who turned and nodded to his prospect.

Half-Sack ran to the stereo once he saw his signal, cutting off the rock music that was filling the clubhouse and replacing it with some of the trashy hip-hop that Sydney loved so much - much to the guys' dismay. They'd all had their fair share of her music by now, whether it was while she was driving or working in the bar, and they hated it - but they were willing to set that aside tonight.

Let's get it straight, girl, you don't need a nigga for nothin'
Lookin' better every day, you got that Benjamin Button
Claimin' he don't got a girl, you know niggas be frontin'
You don't need no bitch comin' up to you as a woman, ayy

Sydney was shocked when she heard that not only were the guys offering to dance with her, but they were offering to dance with her, to her music. She sat at the bar for a few minutes while Jax and Chibs playfully sang the song to her - which apparently they'd learned sometime in the past few hours.

And you a boss, so you hate when niggas waste time, ayy
You too pretty to be paused on the FaceTime, ayy
Damn, I'm just statin' the facts
You hate that like you hate when niggas tell you, "Relax"
You want somethin' more than just physical
It's been a while since you met someone original
You spend your time drinkin' wine in your livin' room
All that good pussy, can't find the one to give it to
Issa, issa shame
You see me, see the squad, issa gang
You see him, issa bum, issa lame
But issa difference 'tween me and what's-his-name

She grinned as they acted out the petty lyrics, stumbling over the words here and there as they tried to keep up with the fast-paced rap, and the apparently pre-choreographed dance.

You know how to go and get a bag, don't you? Ayy
You know how to make a bitch mad, don't you Ayy
Make your ex wanna get it back, that's a fact
Say it louder for the bitches in the back

She shook her head as they continued to motion for her to join them, their widening eyes letting her know that they would not be letting up until she did. She bit her lip as her cheeks began to ache from smiling so hard, letting them make fools of themselves just long enough for her to join in to finish up the song.

I know how to go and get a bag, don't I
I know how to get a bitch mad, don't I
Make my ex wanna get it back, that's a fact
Say it louder for the bitches in the back, ayy

She sang along as she slid out of her barstool, walking to the middle of the dance floor as they all cheered around her as she shook her ass to the cocky beat that she so badly needed to hear.

Back, back-backin' it up
I'm the queen of talkin' shit, then I'm backin' it up
Back, back-backin' it up
Throw that money over here, nigga,
That's what it's for

When she turned back to the bar, there were three tequila shots waiting for her while her playlist continued to blare through the large speakers around the room. This was definitely the kind of distraction that she needed.

Half-Sack smiled from the corner of the room where he tucked his iPod behind the speaker as he watched Sydney sing and dance like usual - like there was nothing eating her alive the way that he knew that it was. He was glad that it hadn't taken much convincing to get the guys to help to try and cheer her up, but he prayed that Tig would be back tomorrow to make things right, because he knew that he wouldn't be able to hit three home runs in a row.

Jax tried his hardest to keep up with Sydney as she downed shots left and right, but the girl could out-drink him on a good day - a bad one was a whole other story. He laughed as they bantered back and forth through old Eminem diss tracks, taking turns playfully singing the vile lyrics to each other - enjoying that despite their rocky history, they could be each others' distraction. Regardless of how he felt when they were at the table, he felt stronger that the perky blonde was far too good looking for the morally questionable Sergeant.

"Bobby!" Sydney hollered as she wobbled her way over to the older man sitting at a table with some croweaters, dropping herself down on his lap and swinging her feet up onto the table. "You ain't going home to Precious tonight?" She mock-pouted.

Bobby scoffed. "I'd rather eat another one of your burritos than do that." He took a dismal swig of beer.

"Why did you guys even get married." She scrunched up her face dramatically.

"Benefits." He shrugged.

"Hey!" She yelled in his ear as an idea came to her, the sudden outburst making him wince. "You still owe me a shot!"

"What?" He laughed nervously. "Nah… That shit's expired."

"Nope." She grinned, hopping up from his lap and skipping down the hallway towards the kitchen. If the night could continue on like this where everyone seemed to know that it was better not to ask about Tig, she might actually be able to enjoy herself.

"What're you doin'?" Jax laughed as he watched the short girl balance barefoot on the countertop, rifling through mounds of pastas and sauces in the back of the cupboard.

Sydney didn't answer, instead turning around with a grin as she held up what she had been looking for; the jar of habanero juice that she had hidden, weeks ago.

"You kept that?" He grimaced.

"I knew it'd come in handy." She grinned evilly. "Now wipe that look off of your face and come help me down, you'll be laughing soon enough." She motioned him over to her.

He quirked an eyebrow, but he obliged if it meant keeping up the chipper mood that torturing his brothers brought her - walking over and scooping up her shoes off of the ground before turning so that she could get on his back where he carefully make his way back out to the bar.

"Jesus Christ, can I kick this thing into second gear?" She chortled as she jabbed her heel into his hip, which made his knees buckle as he tumbled to the ground with her in tow.

The two laid on the wooden floor of the hallway in hysterics, Jax's amusement only increasing when he looked over to see her clutching the jar for dear life where she laid on her back with her legs propped up against the wall after the awkward fall.

"Are you-" He gasped for air as he tried to compose himself and help her up. "Are you okay?"

Sydney couldn't form proper words, so she just nodded as she tried to get back to her wobbling feet, clutching Jax's arm as she fumbled to put her shoes back on.

"I think that's the wrong foot." He pointed at the wonky stiletto that her foot was crammed into.

"Oh, shit." She blinked before the two began laughing again, almost falling as she reached down to pull the right shoe off of her left foot.

Once they were both steadily on their feet - well, as steadily as they could be - they made their way behind the bar where Sydney filled a shot glass. "There's enough for more…" She raised a brow as she waved the jar in front of Jax's face.

"No." The VP backed away as he watched the satanic liquid slosh around in the jar that should've come with a warning label.

"Awe, Jaxy, come on." She pouted. "I'll do one if you do one."

The blonde man winced dramatically as he looked away, wearily looking back where he could feel that hopeful gaze hadn't faltered. "You always get what you want?" He sighed, unable to keep the smile off of his face as he grabbed two more shot glasses.

"Pretty much." She nodded with a victorious grin, grabbing Bobby's shot and waltzing over to where he was sitting with sweat beading on his forehead.

"I should've gone home with my wife." Bobby groaned, staring at the offending liquid that he knew was sure to cut his night short.

"Shoulda coulda woulda." Sydney shoved the shot into his hand. "Bottoms up!"

"You ain't gettin' no patch in vote from me." The older man shook his head as he squeezed his eyes shut and poured the potent juice down his throat, forcing himself to swallow as everyone cheered around him before he got up and beelined to the bathroom.

Sydney and Jax watched Bobby fall through the bathroom door, their hysterics starting back up again until they finally calmed down enough to head back to the bar and face their own fate. When they reached the bar however, their shot glasses were gone. Sydney looked around with a creased forehead until she felt Jax grab her arm, looking up at him for an explanation where she found him staring across the room.

"You're gonna wanna watch this..." He had a sly smirk on his face as he watched the scene unfold.

She followed his gaze to where he saw Chibs standing with Cheryl, holding the two shot glasses. "No fucking way." Sydney shook her head with an overly excited grin, there was no way that something this perfect could've happened without her assistance...

The blondes watched in anticipation as the pair tipped their shots back, howling as soon as their faces twisted up and they spit the heinous concoction onto the floor, gasping for air as their eyes widened and their faces reddened. Jax dove down behind the bar for cover, dragging Sydney down with him - who was happy to toss Cheryl a wink before she disappeared behind the wooden barrier.

"Ugh, I knew you were a pussy." She joked, playfully shoving the VP as she tried to get to her feet, but couldn't, instead landing flat on her ass next to him where she laughed until she decided to just stay on the floor.

"Here." He chuckled, extending his arm so that she could lean against him where he snagged a bottle of tequila and unscrewed it for her. She leant back against the cool leather of his kutte, her body shivering as her nervous system recognized that it felt stiffer than Tig's did - less worn, less experienced. She shook the thought away, hoisting her feet up onto the shelf below the bar and tipping the bottle back.

Jax smoked multiple cigarettes between swigs of tequila as he sat with his back pressed up against the uneven shelves, her warmth combatting the discomfort of the awkward position in a way that was strong enough to have him coming to a few hours later, realizing that their collective state of alcohol-fuelled dissociation had managed to nod them both off. He blinked a few times as he tried to focus his blurry eyes, noting that the music had stopped and the clubhouse had seemingly cleared out. He felt the heaviness in his forehead, which told him that he was still drunk, and as much as he wanted to stay right where he was, he knew that his body would curse him in the morning if he did. He took a deep breath, using all of his strength to ease himself off of the floor, careful not to rattle Sydney who had passed out over his arm with the empty bottle in her hand.

"Hey..." He leaned down and brushed her hair out of her face before lifting her off of the ground, but he soon realized that Sydney drunk, and Sydney unconscious weren't much different from one another. She blinked a few times as she tried to understand that she was now awake and had to stand, trying to plant her feet on the ground before finally looking down to see them dangling from the bartop that she'd been placed on.

"Oh." She snorted, trying to focus her rolling eyes.

Jax chuckled, he was at least able to feel his own feet as he stood unsteadily in front of her, holding her upright. "What do you wanna do?" He looked around the room awkwardly, knowing that he couldn't drive her home, but that he didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone and unconscious, either.

"Tired." Was all she could get out as her head rolled back before he caught her, holding her against his chest.

"Where do you suggest I take you?" He looked down at her with a raised brow.

"You're comfy." She looked up at him through her eyelashes as her chin rested against his collarbone. He chuckled again when even on the verge of passing out in his arms, she was still able to muster up enough capacity to flirt. "Bed." She closed her eyes and went limp against him.

Sydney lifted her head slightly from the crook of his neck a few minutes later when she realized the feeling of being carried, blinking through his long hair as she tried to figure out where he was taking her... "Not here." Panic filled her previously numb body as she realized where they were.

Jax cursed himself for not using his head - no matter how foggy it was - after working so hard to keep her mind occupied for the night. He nodded as he closed the door to Tig's room, making his way to Happy's old room instead - hoping that she was too drunk to think about what had just happened, and would just fall back asleep.

Sydney felt herself being placed on the foot of a bed, blinking lazily where she looked up to see her arms wrapped around Jax while he tried to pull away. The situation was one that was all too familiar; too much tequila, a foreign bed, and the arms of a Son. No. She couldn't have those memories - not now, not when she was about to be left alone in the dark...

Jax looked down to see her staring up at him with those pain-filled green eyes, and alcohol-pinkened cheeks. He'd never questioned why Tig had fallen for her, but he had questioned how Tig could've ever left her - and as his lazy eyes trailed down to her lips, it was a question that had him thinking that maybe the Sergeant had more willpower against pussy than he'd thought...

He tensed when her stare didn't let up under his wandering pupils, becoming hyper-aware of her gentle touch holding him against her as she tilted her head back. He tried to fight the instinctual reaction that his compromised body was succumbing to far too easily, but he didn't have the strength. He was drunk, exhausted, and lonely - he didn't have time for logic and reason. His mind briefly rolled to Tara, but then he thought about how she'd used him - played him to get what she wanted, and that only nudged him further and further over the line as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

They stayed in that position for a few seconds, swaying nervously as they both half-heartedly contemplated the predicament - a predicament that neither of them could have ever anticipated. He brushed his nose across her cheek as he gently inched closer to her lips, gauging her reaction before he decided to go for it.

Sydney's entire body tensed when he finally kissed her. The kiss was tentative, gentle, and sweet - nothing like the way that Tig kissed her. She squeezed her eyes shut, hating how repulsed she was by something that any girl in Charming would have killed for. She could barely feel her own heartbeat with how drunk she was and yet, somehow, she still felt every drop of discomfort.

Jax pulled away when he felt her tense up, knowing that he'd gone too far. He'd known that it was a mistake before it even started - a mistake that never would've happened if the stars hadn't perfectly aligned. "I'm sorry." He shook his head. He felt horrible for unintentionally taking advantage of her fragility, but his spiralling guilt was stopped when she tightened her grip on his shoulder.

"Don't stop." She whispered, shaking her head as she avoided his eyes that she knew would be full of pity. "Please." Her voice cracked. Everything about this felt wrong, but thinking about Tig felt worse.

Jax nodded, understanding the pain in her plea all too well. He closed his eyes before pressing his lips back to hers. He knew it was selfish, but she needed to forget, and so did he.

;

For the Jax hoes… You're welcome. For the Tig hoes… I'm sorry. For the Happy hoes… Stay tuned.

Songs for this chapter

fake smile - Ariana Grande

Backin' It Up - Pardison Fontaine ft. Cardi B

Puke - Eminem

Let Me Love You - Ariana Grande ft. Lil Wayne

2 - H.E.R.