Jax tentatively knocks on Mrs. Ellie's apartment door. He hates having to do this, but leaving the boys alone is as much out of the question as dragging them along with him to a bar to pick up their drunk mother in the middle of the night.
After waiting for a moment, there is still no answer, so he knocks louder and harder again, even calling out to her through the closed apartment door, just in case the elderly woman doesn't recognize him through the peephole in the door. But still, there is no answer.
Jax rushes back to Tara's apartment and frantically looks for the piece of paper, where Tara had scribbled down some phone numbers for him Saturday morning before she left for her weekend shift in the ER. In case of emergencies, she'd said, like if Mrs. Ellie isn't available and he'd ever need someone to watch the boys while she was at work, or something to that effect. At the time he had barely given the names and numbers so much as a second glance or thought, because what were the odds that that would happen already. Now he wishes he would've paid more attention to what she said, and where that fucking paper has disappeared to.
Standing in the middle of the living room, he stops his frantic search and stares helplessly around the room. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, frustrated pushing his long hair out of his face, trying to remember where and when exactly he'd seen that fucking piece of paper last, when it suddenly dawns on him.
He quietly opens the boys' bedroom door and without turning on the light sneaks inside. The light shining into the room from the hallway is enough for him to spot the small pile of coloring books and papers on the little table near the foot of Thomas' toddler bed. Careful not to wake his sons, he picks up the entire stack and leaves the room as quietly as he'd entered it and closes their bedroom door behind him.
It takes him less than a minute before he finally finds what he's been looking for and reaches for his cell phone in his jeans pocket. His fingers can't dial the numbers fast enough.
X
Jax clenches his jaw in frustration when he has no choice but to stomp on his brakes again as they approach yet another intersection with a red light. If it was up to him he would've run every goddamn red light in town, but Christy is probably right that getting pulled over right now would only cost them more precious time. And they already feel like they don't have a minute to spare.
Anxious, he lights up a cigarette and lowers his driver-side window. A rush of cold evening air breezes through the cabin of the truck, and Christy can't help but shiver despite the jacket she is wearing, giving her yet another reason to throw a dirty look in Jax's direction.
Unbeknownst to him, he is on her shit list right now, because she can't help but wonder what happened between Tara and him earlier that would lead to this. To her friend getting shitfaced in some bar by herself. It doesn't sound like the Tara she knows.
But as much as she wants to blame him, she sort of also blames herself for pushing Tara earlier today to let Jax back into her life. She can't help but wonder if that somehow played a part in the current state of events, so there is no way in hell she is going to sit this one out on Tara's couch to let Jax handle it on his own.
When Jax called her and told her what happened, she rushed over and brought her fiancée Jason along. So Jason stayed at home with the boys, who were still sound asleep and oblivious to what was going on, while she insisted on tagging along to get Tara.
X
Jax notices Tara's parked SUV in front of the bar, reassuring him that this is the right place, and looks over at Christy who's seen it too.
They quickly park and head inside, not wanting to waste another moment.
The bar is much busier than both Jax and Christy anticipated considering how late it is on a Sunday night. Some fast-paced honky-tonk country song is blaring obnoxiously loud through the speakers of the smoke-filled bar.
They both scan the place for any sign of Tara when Jax's eyes fall on the barkeeper and he heads straight toward him with Christy following right behind him.
He has to raise his voice to be heard over the loud music when he tells the barkeep who he is and why he is there.
But the much older, long-bearded man's voice booms with ease over the loud noise surrounding them, "One of my waitresses took her to the bathroom." He nods toward the restrooms down the hall to the left of him. Jax and Christy follow his gaze, and just when they are about to head that way the man quickly reaches beneath his counter and presents Christy with Tara's purse.
Christy and Jax exchange a quizzical look before she reaches for her friend's bag, and his deep voice booms once more over the music, "She left it on the bar stool, thought I'd better hold onto it before someone gets sticky fingers, if you know what I mean?!"
"Appreciate that." Jax nods gratefully before he turns toward Christy and signals her to follow along.
Christy has Tara's bag draped over her shoulder when she pushes the door to the ladies' room open and steps inside, with Jax right on her heels.
She stops and turns halfway toward him, putting a hand flat against his chest in an attempt to stop him from entering. "It's the ladies' room." She exclaims in protest.
Jax rolls his eyes at her in obvious annoyance. He simply has no patience to argue with her again right now and steps further through the door, practically pushing Christy out of the way when his eyes fall on Tara kneeling top-less in just her jeans and bra, on the filthy bathroom floor. "Tara?"
"Hey. You can't be in here." The waitress helping Tara get back on her feet yells out, before stepping in front of her, trying to shield the inebriated woman from his prying eyes when he dares to approach even further. "This is the ladies' room. You need to get the hell out, or I'll call the bouncer."
"Jesus, Jax." Christy tries to reason with him to avoid a scene, but to no avail.
Utterly unfazed by the loud protest of the two females around him he quickly steps further into the room. "Babe?" His voice is filled with concern when he reaches her side, the smell of vomit now evident in the air.
"Jax?" Tara blinks and looks up at him with glossed-over eyes, but before he can reply anything she practically stumbles once more, straight into his arms.
He holds her up against him, with one strong arm wrapped around her waist, and his other hand pulling her upper body against his chest, her bare back feeling cold beneath his hands.
The waitress recognizes the name and stops her protest, "You're her emergency contact, the guy Frank called."
Jax nods, "Yeah." Without taking his eyes off Tara.
"He's her husband." Christy offers and sees how the younger woman's eyes flicker to Tara's empty ring finger, a look of confusion crossing her face, so Christy quickly adds, "It's a long story." And steps up to take a closer look at her friend too. "Tara?"
"I ... I don't feel so good," Tara mumbles with her cheek against Jax's chest, when Christy pries her eyes open, one by one, trying to examine her the best she could in the dimly lit room.
"What the hell happened to her?" Jax's eyes narrow accusingly at the young brunette waitress. "Did someone put something in her drink?"
The waitress scoffs at him, clearly offended, "She sat at the bar all night. Frank said nobody messed with her drinks, he's sure of it. She might've already had a few though before she showed up here, or maybe she popped something herself."
Jax scoffs and is just about to protest that Tara wasn't like that, when Christy chimes in.
"She's got something in her system," Christy announces with concern.
"Jesus Christ!" Jax sighs in frustration, pulling her closer as he closes his eyes and presses a kiss against Tara's temple, while Christy reaches for Tara's wrist to check her pulse.
"Whatever she took, ... we need to make her throw up, just in case," Christy says, meeting Jax's concerned eyes, but the waitress is quick to interrupt.
"I don't think there's anything left to throw up." She nods toward Tara's shirt in the sink, "She threw up all over her shirt, then hovered over the toilet for half an hour letting it all out. She's been dry-heaving ever since. Trust me, there's nothing left."
"Her pulse seems alright." Christy capitulates and sighs in frustration, "But we still need to get her home."
"Tara? Can you sit up?" Jax turns with Tara in his arms and lifts her just enough to sit her on the ledge of the bathroom counter, the gesture reminiscent of another time and place. Happier times long forgotten, he notes with regret.
Christy realizes what he is trying to do and quickly helps to hold her up long enough for Jax to pull his sweatshirt off himself before turning it around to slip it over Tara's head instead.
Christy continues to hold her upright, while Jax helps a mumbling Tara get each arm into the right sleeve, similar to how he'd helped his sons into their pajamas just a couple of hours ago.
Just then the waitress steps back in, handing an empty trash bag to Christy, who takes it wordlessly with an appreciating nod.
Her nose wrinkles in disgust at the smell that fills the air once more as she packs Tara's shirt up before knotting the top of the bag closed.
Jax stands between Tara's thighs, one hand on her back, the other on her hip, ready to tug her back to her feet when Tara looks up at him once again through glossy eyes. The hood of her shirt falls back as she snakes her arms up and around his neck, pulling him closer.
"I missed you so much, Jax." Tara slurs her words into the crook of his neck as she slumps forward.
Jax obviously knows she is completely out of it and would probably have no recollection of any of this come tomorrow morning, but that knowledge doesn't stop the small spark of hope that her actions and words evoke in him.
"I missed you more." He replies unabashed, trying his best to ignore the look that both Christy and the waitress give him in the mirror.
"What's your name, darlin'?" He turns to the side with Tara's arms still draped around his neck, and eyes the waitress for a long moment.
The brunette's cheeks flush under his scrutinizing gaze before she reluctantly answers, "R-Rachel."
With one arm firm around Tara, holding her close, he reaches into his jean pocket and presents the waitress with a handful of bills, "Appreciate you keeping an eye on her, Rachel."
The waitress hesitates for a moment before she nods, "You're welcome," and takes the money from him, before tucking it away into the pocket of her apron.
Reaching into his pocket once more, he pulls out his truck keys and hands them to Christy, "Ready?"
"Yeah," Christy replies, and holds the door open for him to go on ahead.
"Let's get you home, Babe." He mumbles reassuringly against her ear as he drapes her legs around his waist, curls one arm beneath the curve of her ass and the other across the expanse of her back.
Making their way through the crowded bar, Jax nods appreciatively toward the barkeeper Frank once more, before Christy holds the door open, so they can slip outside.
The air is cool and crisp, and he can feel Tara shutter against the cold wind as she nuzzles her face deeper into the crook of his neck, and instinctively he tightens his grip around her.
They are just a few feet away from his truck when Jax hears a couple of guys slurring something behind them.
At first, neither Jax nor Christy pay any mind to what they are saying until they follow right behind them and speak up, "Hey, where do you think you're going with her?"
Jax stops short when he realizes they are talking to him and turns around just enough to get a look at these guys.
"You talking to me?" He asks in return, with a calmness in his voice that he isn't actually feeling at all.
"Hell yeah, I'm talking to you." One of them stops mere feet in front of Jax, who has now lowered Tara to her feet, whilst still keeping his arms firmly around her, when the guy speaks up again, nodding toward Tara, "She's with us."
"Really?" Jax asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, his voice booming with a humorless chuckle as he tugs Tara protectively closer to his side and shakes his head, "I don't fucking think so." This has to be a goddamn joke.
He is just about to say more when Christy beats him to it. "She's his wife, dumbass. So you need to back the hell off."
"Wife?" The guy laughs out loud, and turns around to look at his friends who also start laughing, "Hate to be the one to break the news to you, man, but your wife was rubbing up on me earlier tonight. Guess she's a horny little whore."
"What did you just say?" Jax hisses and practically hands Tara over to Christy, not really giving the other woman a choice in the matter, before he takes a step toward the guy who has just insulted Tara, "What did you call her?" He asks, his hands already balling into fists.
The guy laughs out loud again, not the least bit intimidated by the fury in Jax's eyes directed at him. "Or maybe you're just not givin' it to her right and she has to get her kicks elsewhere." He adds laughing, followed by another good laugh from his friends, before Jax zooms in on him and throws not one, but three jaw-shattering punches in a row.
"Stop it, Jax!" Christy yells out loud, trying to get his attention, which works for a split second.
The guy stumbles backward, reaching up to his bloody nose and lip, no longer laughing now and is just about to charge back and take a swing at Jax when Rachel, the waitress, appears outside the bar, interrupting the interaction when she curses, "Goddammit Charlie, Stop it."
Her words echo through the parking lot, and stop the guy from actually taking a swing at Jax. "You don't want Frank to come out here, do you?" Rachel adds for good measure.
"Jax, don't." Christy pleads loudly when she realizes he is about to seize the opportunity and take another swing at the guy. She readjusts her arm draped around Tara to keep her upright, halfway leaning against the truck, "We really need to get her home, Jax, come on. These assholes aren't worth it."
Jax clenches his jaw as he looks the other man up and down, throwing him a look that could kill, before he steps backward toward his truck and his wife.
"Fuckin' pussy." The other man calls out after him, spitting blood, but Jax doesn't give him another glance as he quickly scoops an unconscious Tara back into his arms. It takes every ounce of self-control he possesses to not turn back around and strangle the guy with his two bare hands.
By now Rachel has reached the guy's side and gives him a hard push back toward the entrance of the bar, as she shakes her head in disgust at him, "What the hell is wrong with you? You're just begging to get your ass kicked."
She tilts his head to the side to examine the damage Jax's punches left behind. "You're a moron, you know that?" And with another push, he and his friends are heading back inside.
Tara is completely passed out when Jax lifts her into the passenger seat of his truck and wordlessly fastens the seat belt around her.
Christy stands behind him, her arms folded across her chest. She can practically feel the anger radiating off of him, "You know that guy is full of shit, right?"
Jax dares to glance back at her for a moment before he carefully closes the passenger door, fighting the urge to slam it shut with a loud bang.
"Is he?" He asks, before turning all the way toward her, his hand gesturing toward the bar behind them, "She came here, wasted, looking to get more wasted."
Even though it is dark out and the parking lot is dimly lit, he can see Christy rolling her eyes at him, "You know her." She exclaims, irritated, and shaking her head, "Tara's not like that."
"I know she's not, but maybe she was tonight." He replies, clenching his jaw again, "And as pissed as that thought makes me, I can't even fucking blame her, 'cause I did this."
He shakes his head at himself and runs both his hands over his weary face, trying to swallow back the hurt and anger that threatens to overwhelm him, "I let her in on some hurtful truth today, so there's a good chance she came here looking to ..." He pauses, unable to say the words out loud, "... whatever she came here for, it's because of what I did and this is just her trying to get back at me, trying to hurt me back." And it fucking worked!
"You think she came here to cheat on you? Like what? Some kind of payback?" Christy scoffs and jangles Tara's car keys in her hand as she passes Jax, and turns around walking backward in the direction of Tara's car to keep eye contact with him when she adds, "That's ridiculous! If she wants to cheat on you she wouldn't be doing it here, in this shithole with some scumbag like that guy." Christy shakes her head at him, "Trust me, she's got other options, better options."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jax asks, still emotional and agitated by what has gone down. He is pretty sure Christy is referring to John, which doesn't soothe the brewing rage he currently feels coursing through him.
Tired of this ridiculous conversation, Christy looks back at Jax once more, "Let's just get her home, alright?" and slips quickly behind the wheel of Tara's Ford, pulling the door closed to not give Jax a chance to drag this on any longer.
X
"I'm not some fucking perv, I'm her husband." Jax tries his best not to raise his voice for fear of waking his sons.
"Christy, come on." Jason tugs on her arm, and gives her a look that tells her it is time for her to back off.
Jax seizes the moment and shuts the bathroom door in both their faces, utterly ignoring Christy's continued protests. He is quick to engage the lock with his one free hand, while still holding Tara up with his other arm tightly wrapped around her waist.
He swiftly turns the shower on first, giving the water a chance to heat up, while he carefully, almost methodically undresses her down to nothing but her bra and panties.
Pulling off his simple white t-shirt, he quickly toes out of his white sneakers, unbuckles his belt, and lets his jeans pool by his ankles before he steps out of them.
Tara sleepily mumbles something incoherent against his bare chest, still completely out of it, when he reaches behind the shower curtain to check if the water has warmed up enough to step on inside yet.
He feels just a tad bit stupid to leave on his boxer briefs, but Christy's words of protest hit home hard enough to stop him from completely undressing her and himself.
'I get that you've seen every inch of her, Jax, but my ex has seen every inch of me too. That doesn't mean I'd want him seeing me naked now, while I'm unconscious and utterly helpless at that!'
Her stinging words echo through his thoughts as he hoists Tara carefully over the edge of the bathtub, before stepping under the warm and welcoming stream of water with her head tucked under his chin, and her body pressed flush against his.
Maybe it is the fact that she referred to him as Tara's ex that bothers him above all else. To this day he's never actually seen himself as that, and he hates the thought that anyone thought of him as anything other than her man, her husband.
Skin on skin with his beautiful wife after the longest self-imposed dry spell of his adult life, doesn't help him make his case about not being a 'perv' in the least, when his growing erection painfully strains against the fabric of his briefs as the water cascades down their bodies.
"Jesus Christ." He curses to himself, not only in sexual frustration but also in utter self-disgust that even Tara's current unconscious state does nothing to diminish the burning desire he feels for her. Making him feel every bit the pervert he denied to be out loud a mere ten minutes ago.
Get your fucking act together, Teller!- He thinks to himself as he looks around the shower for her bottle of shampoo, "Come on, Babe, let's get you cleaned up."
X
Frustrated and anxious, Christy rifles through the contents of Tara's purse, just when Jason steps into the room.
"What the hell are you doing?" He asks as he pulls up a chair at the kitchen table and watches in confusion, before shaking his head at his fiancée's antics. "Giving her husband a big old speech about invasion of privacy and the such, and here you're going through her shit. That's a tad bit hypocritical, don't you think?"
Christy rolls her eyes at him, but then gives him a knowing look when she produces an orange prescription bottle from Tara's bag.
"She's on meds." Jason furrows his brow and stands, overcome with curiosity, stepping up behind Christy so he can also read what the pharmacy label says, "Clonazepam? I didn't know she had anxiety. She always seems so calm and put together."
Christy nods, "She did when she first got here, but I thought she'd gotten off of her meds a couple weeks back." She narrows her eyes on the small print, and points her finger to the date, "She had this filled Saturday morning, before she started her E.R. shift. The day after Jax got here." She adds for good measure, and gives Jason a pointed look over her shoulder.
"Shit," Jason replies, knowing what that could mean, and swiftly pushes the other content from Tara's purse aside, making room for Christy to pour Tara's medication onto the table, careful not to lose a single pill in the process.
She makes quick work counting each round tablet out loud, with a final count of twenty-eight, letting out the breath she's been holding with an audible sigh of relief as she slumps back into the chair.
"Twenty-eight." Jason repeats and studies the details of the prescription again, "It's a thirty-day fill, so she probably took one sometime Saturday and another on Sunday."
Christy nods, "Jax says she barely ate a bite at dinner, then she went out and had a couple of drinks." She shakes her head, irritated with herself that she hadn't thought about it earlier, "Her being so out of it after just a few drinks ... it all makes sense now."
Jason carefully replaces all the pills back into the bottle, making sure the childproof lid clicks in place, "But she's a doctor, she knows that these meds and alcohol don't mix."
Christy nods yet again, "I know, she should've known ... but she's had a lot on her mind, a lot to process since he showed back up in town." She tries to excuse Tara's reckless behavior, but by the look in Jason's eyes, she could tell he wasn't really buying into her lame attempt at an excuse either.
X
After their shower, Jax steps out of her bedroom, waiting patiently while Christy helps Tara change out of her wet underwear into some dry pajamas before both of them gently tuck Tara into bed.
They gather around the kitchen table and Jason explains that Tara's behavior tonight is most likely the result of mixing her meds with alcohol, but Jax can't help but wonder out loud why Tara herself hadn't thought of that before she went and ordered her first drink.
This isn't something he couldn't let slide and he'd have to bring it up with her tomorrow when she comes to, he decides right then and there.
By now, it's early Monday morning already, so Jason and Christy crash on the couch, and Jax slips quietly into bed next to Tara. Hoping he'll be able to get at least a couple hours of sleep, knowing he'll be starting his new job at the Baker's garage tomorrow.
He is well aware that he is taking advantage of the situation, but he simply can't resist the urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her to his chest.
Her soft, even breathing against his skin eases some of the anxiety he is feeling now as he thinks about everything that happened since he left Charming early Friday morning.
He has no regrets about leaving SAMCRO, and Gemma behind, but he once more blames himself for being the cause of Tara's pain.
The sound of her breathing near his ear almost lulls him to sleep, when Tara shifts, her arms draping around his chest, tugging herself closer to him as if he is her own personal pillow, before she lazily drapes one leg around his midsection too. Like she used to do a million times before, back when they were still a thing. Back when they were happy.
And if he didn't know any better, he would've bet his last dollar that she knows exactly what she was doing to him when she repeatedly rubs her thigh along the length of his hardened shaft, that is straining painfully against the gray sweatpants he's pulled on for no other reason than out of courtesy for her.
He fights his inner demons, pressing a kiss against her still-damp hair, and tries his best to find some rest.
"I love you, Babe." He quietly whispers into the darkness of her bedroom, not at all surprised when she never utters a reply.
X
Author's Note: As always I'm very curious what your thoughts are on this new chapter, and would love it if you left me a few words or a review. Thank you for still reading. xoxo