Second Time Around...

✨Chapter 41✨

Avery and Jax stood on the porch of their home, their bodies taut with unspoken tension, as they watched the social worker's car disappear down the street. The moment it turned the corner and was out of sight, Avery finally exhaled, a long, shuddering breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding throughout the entire visit. The release was immediate, a wave of relief washing over her as the oppressive weight of scrutiny began to lift.

"How do you think that went?" Jax's voice was a low rumble behind her as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist in a comforting embrace. His chin rested on her shoulder, his warmth a familiar anchor against the lingering chill of the social worker's presence.

Avery leaned into his touch, her eyes still fixed on the empty street. "Good," she admitted, the word a soft exhalation. "But I can't shake the feeling that someone pushed for this to happen." She voiced her concerns, the unease that had been gnawing at her since the initial phone call about the visit. It wasn't that she was a paranoid person by nature, but there was a persistent, nagging intuition that this wasn't just standard procedure. It felt targeted, personal, as if the threads of this situation were more intricately woven around her than around Jax or even young Abel.

Jax's brow furrowed slightly against her temple. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion. "I thought this type of thing is normal given the circumstances. You know, with everything that's happened."

"They are," Avery agreed, nodding slowly. "On the surface, yes. But my gut tells me that someone pushed for this. And pushed hard." She turned in his arms, her hands finding his chest as she looked up into his eyes, seeking understanding, a shared acknowledgment of the unsettling feeling that had taken root within her. The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension, a silent question hanging in the balance.

Jax's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, a familiar flicker of anger entering his gaze. "And you think this has something to do with me and the club? Am I right?" The words were low, clipped, and heavy with a resentment that spoke of past battles and ongoing suspicions. The club, always a shadow, always a point of contention, seemed to loom larger in the quiet space between them.

Reaching up, Avery placed her hands on each side of his face, her touch gentle but firm. Her eyes met his, a silent plea for him to calm the storm she saw brewing within him. "I'm hurt, Jax, deeply hurt that you would automatically assume that this has something to do with you, the club, or your past. I shouldn't have to tell you this, but no," she emphasized, her voice clear and unwavering, "I absolutely do not think this has anything to do with you or the club. This felt targeted towards me for some inexplicable reason. Why else would they have contacted me first and then asked me to contact you? It makes no logical sense if their true target was you."

Jax's jaw was still tight, but some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease under her gaze. He still looked perplexed, running a hand through his hair. "So, the question is," Jax finally articulated, his voice a low rumble, "who have you pissed off since you've been back?"

Avery let out a soft laugh, a playful glint entering her eyes. "Seriously?" she teased, a wry smile gracing her lips. "I'm sure there are hearts broken all over town knowing that you are off the market, Mr. Jax. It would only make sense that this was someone who's a little salty because they won't get the chance to sleep with you." She playfully poked his chest before her expression grew more serious. "But in all seriousness, the only person that could be remotely pissed off at me, to the point of doing something like this, would be Wendy." Her brow furrowed in thought, considering the implications of that statement. "And even then, I can't imagine Wendy being so calculating. She's more of a passive-aggressive type."

Avery watched, a knot tightening in her stomach, as Jax's usually stoic expression shifted, betraying a flicker of anger and suspicion. Discussing Jax's ex-wife, Wendy, was hardly her idea of a pleasant conversation, but this particular issue felt unavoidable. A cold certainty settled over her: Wendy was the only person Avery could think of that could possibly be vindictive enough to orchestrate a call to social services, deliberately putting their lives under scrutiny. The logic, however unpleasant, seemed undeniable.