Fly By Night | Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction | Jax Teller x OC

Chapter Thirty

Jax watched the truck driving his old lady away until it disappeared from view. He flicked some ash from his cigarette, brought it back to his lips, and took a long pull to get some more nicotine coursing through him.

Right about now, he was certain of three things.

He'd known Allie was strong. He'd known Allie was brave. But he'd never known just how forged in fire she really was until today. His old lady was made of titanium. And a fucking phoenix rising from the ashes. He was certain of that.

He'd known he loved her before today. But after today, those feelings he had for her, the love, the commitment, the passion, the adoration, the devotion... He was certain of that.

And the third thing he was certain of?

That motherfucker was a dead man walking.

He flicked his spent cherry through the air, his eyes fixed on the spot where that truck had disappeared down the road. Then he gave himself a moment to suck in a deep breath through his nose, slowly pushing it out through his nostrils. It wasn't enough - nothing would ever really be enough, but that breath gave him a second of calm. Of peace. And then, a moment later, that dark current he'd been wading in since the moment he got a good look at Allie's face in the parking lot...that current just kept rising and rising until it slipped over his head.

With one last look out at the empty street, he dug into his cut for his cigarettes again and slid one out of the pack with trembling fingers. His fingertips were still shaking as he fumbled with the trigger on his lighter, but he finally got the thing lit and took a few puffs as he turned on his heel to head back inside the clubhouse.

When he pushed through the double doors, leaving a long trail of smoke in his wake, his VP was the only one waiting for him on the main floor.

Opie tipped his chin to him, his hands shoved tightly into his front pockets, and he rocked back on his heels as Jax stalked toward him.

"You need a minute?"

"Nah," Jax jerked his head from side to side, moving to brush past his VP to head inside the chapel, when a hand pushed against his chest to stop him in his tracks.

"Brother," Opie told him in a low voice. "I think maybe we should take a minute before we go to the table with this."

Jax just lifted a shoulder. "Everyone's waitin', right? We might as well get this shit over with."

"They can wait another minute, brother."

He paused there, his eyes flicking back up to find his VP's gaze. What he saw in Opie's eyes had to mirror his own - rage, devastation, grief, murder. They were all here for this fucking party.

"Where is your head at with all this?" Opie eyed him carefully.

Jax's eyebrows shot high into his forehead, and he had to take a step back. "Where's my head at? Where do you think it's at? Where is your head at?"

Opie's hands shot up into the air in defense, but when Jax took that opening to take another step toward the chapel, his VP's hands reached out to push him back.

"Listen, Jax, before we go to the table, I just wanna be clear about one thing, alright?"

Jax waited, his eyebrows lifting expectantly. His heart thundered in his chest in a staccato rhythm, and he figured that probably wasn't going to let up anytime soon. He'd probably be living in this rhythm, in this current, for the rest of the foreseeable future.

"We're gonna vote, right? You can't take anything onto your shoulders, or into your own hands, without a vote. You gotta let the table decide too."

He nodded slowly, pushing out a tense exhale. He knew that. And if he'd ever had any doubts he'd made the wrong choice in his VP pick, which he didn't, those doubts were nonexistent now. Even as the aftershocks still rippled through them, Opie was still level-headed. Still thinking clearly. Jax knew he needed to do the same.