Shatter The Glass - Jax Teller

eighteen

"Sophia Frances Morrison." Agent Stahl says as she sits across from her, sliding her a cup of coffee. Sophia turns her nose up at it, not trusting this woman for a second. The bitch probably poisoned it. "Possession of cocaine is pretty serious in the state of California."

She sits silent.

"If you, y'know, tell me where you got it, I might go easier on you. Like, if you got it from a Son-"

"Are you baiting me?"

"Not at all." She says with a knowing smile.

"I don't know anything."

"Oh, honey." Stahl shakes her head. "It's not about snitching. It's about throwing who ever gave you those drugs in to jail for a long time."

"Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, huh?" She reads from the business card on the table. "Tell me," she squints at the name printed in glossy dark blue ink, "Agent June Stahl, tell me where cocaine falls in your jurisdiction."

"It's-"

"Because I thought drugs, a 'D' word, hell, even 'N' letter starting narcotics don't fit into your little ATF world." She flicks the card back onto the table. "Unless cocaine has switched to alcohol, tobacco, or a fucking gun, you and I shouldn't be having a conversation."

June takes in a sharp breath before standing. "You're right. You are right. You're onto me." She leans over the table and gets close to her face. "So, why don't you tell me everything you know about Jackson Teller and the Sons of Anarchy and I'll let you go."

"This whole fucking waltz you guys did to get me in here is impressive but you're a bag of shit. I don't know anything about them."

"How do you know Gabriel Isaac Morrison?"

"Doesn't sound familiar." She sighs, using her pointer finger to push the coffee cup further away. "Haven't heard of him."

The door opens when she opens her mouth. "The hell're you doing in here?" The cop that let her off the hook for coke earlier this year says, shaking his head. "ATF's got nothing to do with a drug charge."

Sophia gives her a smug look as June Stahl is ushered out of the cramped room. "Wayne, looking well."

"Thanks, kid." He rasps back, grunting as he sits across from her. "So what the hell happened? I get a call saying you've been arrested for cocaine? C'mon Sophia, I thought you went through a rehab program."

"I'd pass a drug test right now with flying fucking colors." She shrugs. "Don't know how I got arrested for coke when I haven't been around since that day I met you for the first time."

"Well, the boys found half a pound of coke in your couch."

"What the fuck?" She sits up, looking at the pictures he's pulling out of a folder.

"Want to explain that to me?"

"Yeah, okay." She clears her throat. "That's not mine. I've been moving my dad's shit out of the house since I've gotten back in town."

"From where?"

"I was living with my brother for a while after Scotty died." She sighs heavily. "Someone who got a lot of cop visitations probably left it there because Scotty would never rat. Snitches get fucking stitches."

"Well, they got resisting arrest on you and that by itself is up to a year and the fact that they found half a pound of coke in your-"