Tig is shocked when he uncovers just what Sydney is doing to cope in her predicament, but he's even less impressed by the one who led her to it in the first place—almost as unimpressed as his brothers are with him as his complacency allows his injured old lady free rein at a wild club party.
General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, 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 56: MEDICATED
;
Tig sat back against the couch with a proud smirk on his face as he watched Tank writhe in pain, screaming profanities about Sydney into the electrically charged air as everybody waited to see what would happen next. The Sergeant let himself ride the high of having such a badass woman a little longer, finally getting himself up and waltzing over to the San Bernardino man.
"What'd you say?" He quirked a brow as he approached, the injured man looking up at him to see that infamously sadistic look on his face. "I know that's not my old lady you're talking about…"
"She ain't no fuckin' old lady." Tank spit out a mouthful of blood. "She's just—" The brown-eyed man felt himself being yanked out of his seat and slammed face-first into the ground before he could finish his sentence.
"What was that?" Tig lifted Tank's head up by his hair as he grunted in pain.
"Nothing." The younger man growled through his gritted teeth, not looking to have any more damage done to his already shattered face.
"Yeah… I thought so." Tig dropped Tank's head, smirking as it bounced off of the floor once again. He braced himself as he made to straighten up, his eyes trailing to the pair of white wedges that were planted in front of him—slowly lifting his head to see Sydney standing over him with her arms crossed, and a smirk on her face.
"What're you doin', baby?" She nodded to the carcass of a man below him as he looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. The sight of Tank on the ground alone was enough to trump her distress over Happy—but the sight of Tig looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar was the cherry on top.
"Just, uh…" Tig looked back down, chuckling as he got to his feet and dusted his hands off on his jeans. "Finishin' what you started." He smirked, looking down at the bottle of tequila in her hand. "Find yourself somethin'?" She nodded with a smile, grabbing his hand and lifting it above her head as she spun around before pushing the bottle to his lips.
Tig chuckled as he grabbed the bottle from her, glad that she seemed to have shaken off the incident that he was worried would've sent her over the edge. "You wanna stay here tonight?" He quirked an eyebrow at her enthusiasm. If she wanted him to drink as much as she was acting like she did, there was no way that he would be able to drive them home.
"Mhmm." She nodded excitedly.
"Okay." He smiled, pulling her against him as he pressed his lips to her cheek. "You gotta tell Donut, though… I think he's been crashing in my room." He mumbled into her ear as a devious smirk played on his lips.
"Poor Donut..."
;
Tara sat awkwardly on Jax's knee at the poker table as she looked around the unfamiliar setting which resided on the complete opposite side of her comfort zone. Among the hoards of bikers and women that crowded the shrinking room, she accidentally caught Gemma's eye. She felt her muscles tense as she pulled her gaze away from the woman who was staring her down from the bar where she stood with a croweater—she had been trying to calm her nerves, not make them worse.
"You okay?" Jax nudged her gently as he felt her stiffening in his lap.
"Yeah." She blinked a few times, looking around the table for the first thing that grabbed her attention—which happened to be Sydney and Tig who were wrestling over each other's cards.
The blond man looked at her with that knowing smirk as his brow raised higher, squeezing her thigh in hopes of lightening her so infamously uptight mood. "She still wants me dead. You know that, right?" Tara sighed with a small smile, caving under the charm that seemed to make all of her discomfort fade into the background.
"I'll handle my mother." Jax chortled as he pulled her closer.
"You said that you would let me win!" Sydney laughed as she yanked her cards further away from Tig's wandering eyes, the fast movement making her far dizzier than she'd expected as she voraciously fought the gravity that was threatening to pull her to the ground.
"How do you know I'm not gonna let you?" He argued as he leaned closer.
Sydney squealed when she felt his breath in her ear, pulling back even further—knocking her bottle of tequila over in the process. She screamed as she scrambled to catch it, beginning to laugh uncontrollably once it was back in her grasp.
Tig laughed at her dramatic display as the alcohol hit her much harder than it had hit him, because the tequila was only just starting to give him a buzz. He reached over her, giving the impression that he was trying to help before he swiped her cards, sitting back with a grin on his face.
"No fair!" Sydney launched herself out of her chair after him, but her completely relaxed body landed her right into his lap as he held the cards above his head.
Tig scowled when she practically toppled onto him, feeling the nervous tense of her muscles before she carried on what she was doing—waving her hand around as she tried to pluck the cards from his fingers. He blinked a few times as he tried to brush off the incident, figuring that she must've just forgotten about her injury through the intoxication, and when she went to stand, the pain had taken her by surprise.
"Tiggy…" She whined when he refused to give in, jutting out her lower lip and widening her eyes.
That was when Tig saw the explanation for her bizarre behaviour, and it made his heart sink deep inside of his chest. Sydney's brows began to furrow as she watched Tig's expression change drastically from light and playful, to serious and concerned as his forehead turned into a scowl.
"Are you high?" He grabbed her face, studying the tiny black dots that the pills had reduced her pupils to.
Sydney felt her curiosity turn to a frown in his grip, turning over her shoulder to see if anyone had heard his less than flattering accusation. Once she was satisfied that the confrontation had gone unnoticed, she slowly began turning back to him, hoping that she had just misjudged his tone in her hazy state, because surely he wasn't upset with her for trying to enjoy the party that he'd so badly wanted her at?
Tig could feel every beat of his heart as his ears began to ring, and his jaw began to set—nodding for her to get up. "Re-deal without us. You can keep my money." He tossed their cards into the centre of the table, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards the hallway where he ignored the wolf-whistles that came from the table of horribly misled men.
Of course, of all the moments for Sydney to be hit by the effects of the drugs, it was now. She couldn't feel a thing as Tig dragged her through the party behind him. She wouldn't even have known that she was moving if it wasn't for the change of scenery that whirled past her spinning eyes as they advanced forward at the speed of light.
Tig stopped in front of the door to his room once they were out of earshot, watching her blink rapidly as she tried to gain her bearings while muffled moaning coming from behind closed dorm rooms was the only sound that could be heard between them. "The tequila wasn't all that you got from the prospect, was it?" He sighed when he realized that she wasn't going to offer him an explanation.
"You used to like having fun with me." Sydney pouted as she rocked back and forth on her heels, reaching up to the lapels of his kutte.
"I'm worried about you." He shook his head as he snagged both of her wrists in one hand, bringing them down his chest.
"Why?" She looked up at him innocently as her head swung to the side. "You're right here to protect me."
"That's not what this is about." Tig felt his frustration growing. He couldn't tell if her nonchalance was coming from the drugs, or if her judgment had actually just been that clouded by her need to numb the pain—because both would've been easy for him to understand.
"What happened to 'you can drink as much as you want tonight, baby'?" She mocked, feeling her words starting to get harder to enunciate through her theatrics.
"I said drink. I didn't say pop pills."
"Tig, it's a fucking painkiller." She rolled her eyes. "I could've got them at the hospital."
Tig knew by her answer that she'd taken oxy—the only opioid that was allowed in the SAMCRO drug closet. "Yeah, it's a painkiller—a painkiller that mixes with alcohol, and gets you so fucked up that you wouldn't even know your own name."
"Good." She scoffed as she crossed her arms in front of her chest shakily. That was exactly what she wanted.
Tig fought the physical recoil as he felt his heart trembling behind his chest. He knew that she was just being dramatic, but he didn't have the strength to host the haunting familiarities that were knocking at his frontal lobe, and threatening to crawl under his skin.
"Do you want me to feel better, or not?" Sydney felt her own frustration taking over now.
"Of course I do, Sydney." He shook his head sadly. "But not like this..."
Sydney felt a barrage of embarrassment wash over her as he looked at her so pitifully—so judgmentally, forcing the bitter reminders of her past drunken stupors onto her already fragile ego. "Why?" She felt her words beginning to slur together. "Don't want to have to take care of me later?" She waited for a response, her heavy eyes wandering across the laugh lines in his face that, right now, made him look anything but jolly. "I came for you. Because you wanted me here. So the least that you could do is let me try and enjoy myself." She snarled, turning to walk away.
Tig pursed his lips as he shook his head, clenching his fists as he fought the urge to punch the wooden door across from him. Not only had he completely failed to convey his point, but now he had upset her, and made himself look like a hypocrite. He inhaled sharply, knowing that the only way to solve this was with the one thing that he had been told he needed to practice this whole time; with communication—with transparency.
"Nah, come back." He grabbed her elbow, pulling her back where he pushed her up against the wall, holding her in place with his hands on her face—forcing her to look at him. "I have to say this before you're too fucked up to understand." He spit out angrily, forcing himself to relax his jaw before he continued. "I love you. And I love taking care of you. Being the one to take care of you was my fucking fantasy from the second that I met you, and it still is. Okay? That's what I've been trying to do this whole damn time—take care of you. You are the one who won't let me."
"Because of this..." Sydney whispered as the honest words left her quivering lips under the confession that seemed to wash away the veil of intoxication, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable, once again. This was exactly what she'd known would happen all along; that the burden of caring for something that he couldn't protect would become too much for him to bear.
"I don't give a shit about this." He dropped his hands to his sides, looking to the ground as he took a deep breath. "The only person you're burdening is yourself. I take care of you because I want to. Because I love you..." He bit his lip. "Because it makes me feel like a better man." He reluctantly let the truths roll off of his tongue, hoping that even under the influence of drugs and alcohol, it would help her understand. "But if I start taking care of you for the wrong reasons…" He shook his head slowly as he felt his ability to speak candidly starting to short out, the words getting caught in the back of his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as he tried to shake them loose, but he couldn't—not as the rush of adrenaline that had helped push them out, began to dwindle. "Look, I don't wanna start doing it for the wrong reasons. Okay? And maybe I overreacted," he nodded sympathetically. "But you ain't the only one that this has been hard on…" He spoke with dangerous sincerity behind his eyes.
Sydney shivered as he practically read her mind, telling her each and every thing that she so desperately needed to hear, but she froze right back up the second that his final words hit her ears. "I-." Her throat locked up as she was flooded with a wave of emotion. She hadn't at all consideredhow her actions would affect him, let alone why they would affect him... "I'm sorry. Tig, I-" She began frantically shaking her head.
"It's okay." He hushed her, placing his hands on her face to stop her from taking him any further down the path that he'd so desperately wanted to avoid. "It's a conversation for another day." He shook his head, immediately feeling his mind filling with dread as he contemplated just when that day would come...
"I'll go." She offered up. She didn't want him to force himself to babysit her for the night, and let her irresponsible coping mechanism be a reminder to him of why he'd had to worry about her in the first place. "I didn't mean to-"
"You kiddin'?" Tig smiled as he wrapped his arms around her. "An excuse to party? Have my girl hanging off of me?" He rocked her back and forth. He didn't want her to feel bad—he knew that she'd gotten the message, and now that the hard part was out of the way, he wanted to move onto the easy part; forgetting about it.
Sydney stared up at him with guilt clouding her milky, uncertain eyes. "Walk it off." He nodded. "I'm gonna do the same. When I come back, I'll be ready to have fun with you." He smirked. Partying had never been an issue for him—especially when it came to partying as a distraction.
"Are you sure?" She asked meekly.
"Yes." He blinked slowly.
"Don't be mad at Half-Sack… It wasn't his fault." She pleaded with fluttery eyes.
Tig said nothing, bringing his lips to hers softly instead—feeling her tensing under his touch. "Don't worry." He mumbled against her mouth. "It's okay."
"I'm sorry." She choked out before his lips were on hers again.
"I know." He rubbed his thumb over her bicep before kissing her again, letting his lips linger. "I'll come find you." He whispered between his slow, passionate kisses that he hoped would help to reassure her.
"Promise?" She squeaked.
"On my life, baby." He smirked, kissing her one last time.
;
Bobby stood outside at the long table by the fighting ring which had cleared out, counting up the money for the last round of bets that had been placed for the night. "Who visited the piggy bank?" He heard behind him, turning around to see Tig.
"Juice earlier, then Sack." He shrugged to the Sergeant who responded with a curt nod, taking off just as quickly as he'd appeared.
Opie stood by the door, quietly observing the party while he puffed on a cigarette—as he usually did. A wild party was the absolute last place that he wanted to be spending his time right now, but he knew that going home to an empty house was much worse than standing alone in a crowded room. He sighed, his dark eyes lowering before his attention was grabbed by the pastel blue colour of Sydney's shorts, jumpsuit thing in the sea of black leather as she stumbled through the crowds.
"Hey!" He made his way over to her with a scowl, steadying her with an arm around her waist as she threatened to hit the floor.
"Oh, Ope," she pouted up at him where he towered over her. "Didn't mommy ever teach you not to touch what you can't afford?" She swayed in his arms, clutching her tequila bottle as she laughed wildly at her own joke.
"Yeah, yeah." He forced a chuckle. "Where's Tig?" He'd expected to see the Sergeant close by if she was this fucked up.
"I don't know." She drawled, shaking her head around until she made herself dizzy. "He said that he would come find me."
"Yeah…" Opie felt his jaw clenching. "Well he shouldn't have left you alone to begin with." He shook his head, looking around the room once more before making the decision to get her outside for what he could tell was some much-needed air.
Clay stood at the bar with Gemma by his side, watching the concerning encounter between the tormented man, and the troubled woman. He closed his eyes as he winced, running his hand over his forehead. Tig had chosen the worst time to decide that he was tired of playing house with the younger girl.
"She should not be here, Clay." Gemma told him sternly. "Not walking around, not around these people—"
"I'll handle it." Clay dismissed her with a curt nod.
"You better! She is not going to get any better unless—"
"I said—" He raised his voice as he got to his feet. "I'll handle it." He sighed, relaxing his demeanor as his eyes softened before kissing his wife on the cheek.
"Stay here, I'm gonna find him." Opie told Sydney as he lifted her onto a secluded picnic table in the back corner of the compound where she would be out of harm's way.
"You don't gotta do that, Ope." Sydney arched her back, stretching her arms above her head.
"He shouldn't treat you like this." Opie stated before turning to head back inside, grinding his teeth along the way. He hated that a piece of shit like Tig had exactly the kind of old lady that he so badly wanted—what all bikers so badly wanted, and he couldn't even see it.
The bearded man crossed the threshold, scanning the many heads for Tig's curly hair when he bumped into Clay. "Hey." He bowed his head politely. "She shouldn't be here." He nodded out the door where he could see her laying on top of the picnic table.
"I know." Clay answered, continuing his path out of the clubhouse. "Find Tig."
;
Half-Sack crouched behind the bar, grabbing as many beer bottles as he could fit under his lanky arms as he rushed to serve the thirsty crowd. He heaved himself up, slumping over the bartop where he began doling out the alcoholic beverages. "Hey." He heard Cherry's voice beside him, the feeling of her hand on his arm instantly calming his racing mind.
"Hey." He smiled, kissing her on the cheek. "Sorry I can't hangout with you… I'm real busy, but hopefully I'll get a break soo—"
"It's fine." Cherry smiled. She didn't mind, she was no stranger to the company of bikers. "But, um, they want you out back..."
"Shit..." Half-Sack looked around the crowded bar. "Okay. Do you think you could handle this while I'm gone?"
"He asked me to come… I don't think it'll take too long."
Half-Sack's brow creased, wondering what on earth they could be summoning both him and Cherry for. "Okay." He grabbed her hand, leading her towards the back door— whatever it was, he figured that it was best not to keep them waiting. They reached the back of the clubhouse where he swung the heavy metal door open, expecting to see SAMCRO waiting, but instead he saw no one, hearing nothing except the faint sound of the party on the other side of the building, and the moaning from a croweater that one of the Tacoma guys was fucking against the chainlink fence.
"Hey, Cher," he looked over his shoulder. "You sure they said out bac—" He was cut off by someone yanking him out the door by the collar of his shirt, and slamming him harshly against the brick wall, coming face to face with ice blue eyes that were full of fire.
"Woah, woah, woah! Stop!" Cherry yelled, racing to grab Tig's arm as he held Half-Sack by the neck.
"Back. The fuck. Up." The dangerously low warning came from the Sergeant who never shifted his gaze away from the prospect.
Cherry checked herself, remembering where she was, and who she was talking to as she took her hands off of the older man, taking a step back as she felt her legs beginning to tremble.
"Tig, man…" The terrified kid shook his head rapidly as he found himself on the receiving end of the rage that he'd never wanted to coax.
"You give Sydney drugs?" Tig sneered.
"What?" He scowled. "No. No, man. Of course not. I just gave her some—"
"Answer the question!" Tig yelled, tightening his grip. "Did you give Sydney drugs?" He exaggerated each word as if he was talking to a toddler, his jaw clenching so hard that he worried it would pop.
"Oxy..." He choked out. "She said that she was in pain... I just thought—"
"You know that her mom was an addict?" Tig cut him off again. "Died of an overdose? Daddy struggled with the same thing?"
"Uh…" He felt his eyes beginning to flutter. "Well, n-no—"
"No. I didn't think so." Tig nodded, slowly pulling away as he stared distantly into his guilty blue eyes, contemplating a punishment as he swivelled his head towards Cherry. "Take your pants off."
"What?" Cherry scowled, her blood running cold the exact same way that it had the first time that the Redwood men had forced her to be disloyal to the only Redwood man that she wanted.
"What?" Half-Sack asked, half threatening, half terrified.
"Do it." Tig growled. "Now!"
"I'm not fucking doing that!" Cherry yelled back, her confidence shrinking as Tig began advancing towards her.
"No!" Half-Sack ran in front of him. "Stop, man. What the hell is this? What are you gonna do?"
"Well, Kippy." Tig chortled as he looked to the ground, looking back up with that sinister smile. "I'm gonna fuck your girlfriend, the same way that you fucked mine."
"You're not gonna do that." Half-Sack shook his head, crossing his arms as he stood his ground. "I'm not gonna let you do that."
"You're right." Tig grinned menacingly. "I'm not." He leaned in closer to the prospect's ear. "But if you do anything like that again without my permission? It won't be just her. It'll be both of you."
;
Sydney stared up at the stars, enjoying the broken silence as her mind swam in the rivers of liquor, and her heavy eyes rolled in tune with the spinning sky above her. She'd long forgotten about the incident with Tank, the incident with Happy, and even the incident with Tig as the mixture of narcotics and hard liquor swept her off of her feet.
"You doin' okay?" She heard in her ringing ears, looking beyond where the bottle of tequila was tilted up to her lips to see Clay staring down at her.
"Sure am." She slurred, spilling the Patron as she tried to pull it away from her mouth while she spoke. "What would possibly make you think that I wasn't?" She laughed as she sat up, holding the bottle above her head as she stretched.
Clay raised a brow as he watched the theatrical scene before him, smiling with a mixture of both amusement, and displeasure. "I think that half a bottle, and God knows how many pills of whatever he gave you deep, you know as well as I do that you shouldn't be walking." He narrowed his eyes.
Sydney said nothing. Even delirious, she could still feel every ounce of his doubt that she could hold her own against the tough crowd. She sighed sadly, kicking off her shoes and placing her feet against the cold wood in an attempt to feel something in her buzzing body other than embarrassment.
Clay frowned as he watched her face fall, moving to sit on the picnic table next to her in hopes that he could convey his concern from the less threatening angle. "Tig's worried… Gem's worried…" He sighed.
"Yeah, well," she scoffed. "Tig and Gem are always worried. You don't need to worry about me too, Pres." She stated glumly, giving him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.
;
"Hey, can I talk to you?" Tara flinched when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder from where she had just come out of the bathroom.
"Um—" She looked around uncomfortably. "Jax is waiting for me..." She mustered up her best friendly smile, even though she could feel herself physically crumpling in his presence.
"Uh, it's about Sydney..." Tig dropped his hand once he realized that he was scaring her, rubbing the back of his neck. "She took some pills... I'm worried."
"What kind of pills?" The doctor's brows knit, realizing that her concern had been misplaced.
"Oxy… Mixin' 'em with tequila."
"Not exactly what I would recommend, but…" She chortled. "She should be fine." Tara assured him. "Although, with an injury as serious as hers? It would be best to get her to bed... She shouldn't be anywhere like this while her body is trying to repair damage of that severity."
Tig felt his forehead creasing slightly. He knew that Sydney's condition wasn't good, but he hadn't thought that it was nearly that bad. "Uh, yeah. Okay." He nodded awkwardly.
"Uh," Tara shook her head. She couldn't tell if Tig wasn't taking her seriously, or if maybe he hadn't been privy to the extent of Sydney's injuries... "Make sure that she drinks plenty of water. The effects will wear off during the night, the positive is that she will have a good sleep." She offered him a sympathetic smile. "Make sure that she doesn't lay on her back, and the only thing you really need to watch for is if her breathing slows, but I doubt that will happen. If it does, I'll be in Jax's room."
"Alright." Tig smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Doc." He patted her on the arm before heading back out to find Sydney.
"She's outside." Opie called to Tig from where he stood by the door.
The blue-eyed man nodded his thanks to his younger brother, starting out the door where he almost ran into Clay as he stalked back inside. "I never thought I'd have to tell you this," the older man scoffed. "But take your old lady to bed." He sneered, shoving Sydney's bottle of tequila into Tig's chest.
Tig felt his simmering frustration beginning to boil, triggering his infamous fight or flight when even after all of his efforts, even when he was trying to do the right thing, he was still wrong. He clenched his jaw as he contemplated what had gotten him into this mess in the first place; throwing in the towel, running away from the problem that he couldn't seem to solve no matter how hard he tried. But he felt his hand instinctively clasping around the pendant that sat against his chest, rubbing the smooth heart between his fingers as he willed himself to calm down, and remain rational. He knew that he was trying, and so did she. That was all that mattered.
Sydney heard heavy footsteps breaking through her deluded sense of peace and quiet, snapping her out of the sleep that she was beginning to succumb to as she used all of her strength to pry her eyes open. "Hi, Tiggy." She mumbled, her eyes falling closed again.
"Hi, baby." He answered quietly as he sat down next to where she was laying. He was glad that she was practically incoherent, it meant that he didn't have to drain himself trying to cover his anguish. "Come here." He slid his arms underneath her gently, pulling her across his chest as he laid on his back so that she wouldn't be on hers, tilting his head towards the dark night sky.
"We don't have to have fun..." Sydney murmured. "We can just go to sleep."
"You tire out on me?" He looked down at her with a smirk, trying to keep the mood light for both of their sakes, though he was beyond glad to hear that bringing her to bed wasn't going to turn into another fight.
"Mhmm." She hummed as she inhaled his cologne, her spinning head finding comfort in the rhythm of his rising chest. "I'm hungry..."
"You're tired." Tig chuckled as he listened to her grumble against his chest, half-asleep.
"I want tacos." She whined.
"There ain't nowhere to get tacos right now, babe."
"But I'm so hungry…" She drawled as she rolled off of his chest.
"Get back here." Tig laughed, yanking her back into his arms before she could roll right off of the picnic table. "You didn't eat the dinner I sent you?"
"Yeah, but it's not tacos." She buried her face so deep into his chest that he could barely hear her muffled reply.
"I promise that tomorrow, I will get you all the tacos in the world." He chuckled amusedly, rubbing her arm.
"You're too good to me…" She lifted her head slowly.
"No one could ever be too good for you, doll." He squeezed her hand. "I'm just tryin' to be enough..." For some reason, he found it easier to express his deeper feelings when she wasn't present enough to understand the weight of them.
"You're more than enough." Sydney widened her eyes, pushing herself up in a panic.
"Hey, hey, hey." He sat up when she tried to move, guiding her onto her back so that she could see his eyes without making herself sick.
"See. You do things like that. I don't deserve you." She shook her head as tears came to her eyes.
"Of course you do, babe." He scoffed, a genuine smile coming to his face as he rubbed his thumb across her cheek. He almost wished that he hadn't tainted the evening with his worries, because he knew that they would both be laughing over her dramatics if he'd allowed himself to indulge the same way that she had.
"No." She shook her head. "A good— old lady— would've never— taken pills behind your back— after everything you did— for— me." Hiccuped sobs began leaving her lips.
"Yeah. And a good old man would've never let you come out here, drunk and high by yourself." He countered easily through her slurred apologies. "We can be bad together." He winked. As much as he hated to see her upset, he knew that the display was just a result of the oxy-cocktail, and it helped lift his spirits to know that he wasn't the only one who was learning how to navigate a relationship amongst the club.
"But I wanna be good for you..." She pouted, jutting out her lips as the moon shone off of her glossy eyes.
"You're the best for me, babe." He nodded as he ran his thumb over her lip. "My good girl, remember?" He smirked, leaning down and capturing her lips.
Sydney felt her consciousness return when he kissed her, pulling him closer by his neck as she relaxed. No matter what state of intoxication or distress she found herself in, he was always the one thing that was able to bring her back to earth.
Tig hadn't expected her to deepen the kiss, but it was a surprise that he welcomed with open arms after the surprises that he'd faced over the last few weeks. He let himself indulge in her tequila-flavored mouth, resting his weight on her as his hand moved to her face, stroking her jaw while they made out under the stars—just like he had promised.
;
Tara took a deep breath as she stared at herself in the small mirror that hung above the yellowed sink in the bathroom of Jax's old dorm, fighting the urge to gag. She shook her head, brushing her hair behind her ears as she nodded to her timid reflection, pushing away the doubt. This was her life now.
But the minuscule amount of confidence that she had been able to conjure up was depleted the second that she pushed the door open, and Jax's eyes fell on her where she stood, shrinking down in nothing but his t-shirt.
Jax felt a sad smile coming to his face as he looked over the nostalgic sight that he never thought he would see again. "That's a good look for you." He nodded more seriously than intended, pulling back the scratchy afghan that had been placed on the bed in absence of his comforter since he had moved back to his house.
"Mmm." Tara nodded bashfully. "You think?" She chortled, making her way over to where he was propped up against the wall where the mattress—no bed frame—had been positioned. She reached for his hand, taking another deep breath as a shockwave from his touch invaded her lungs.
Jax didn't wait for her to get comfortable next to him before he pulled her across his bare chest, hugging her as tight as he could, as if this was the last time that he had the chance—because he still worried that it might be.
Tara felt her forehead creasing against his neck as she fell into a comfortable discomfort from the smell of his spicy cologne, and the muffled base from the speakers behind the door. It was a feeling that she had remembered clear as day over the last decade, but something about it felt brand new, like she was experiencing it for the first time...
"Are we crazy?" She whispered.
The butterflies in Jax's stomach were instantly released, and that same nagging pit took their place as her words reminded him that this wasn't a fantasy. This was very real, and she wasn't the only real thing that he had to worry about as his eyes affixed themselves to the box in the top of the closet.
"I'll answer that later..."
;
Opie has green eyes and I gave him brown eyes... Opie hoes plz forgive me :/
Songs for this chapter
Drugs - UPSAHL (feat. blackbear)
Bad Together - Dua Lipa
