"Don't go setting fires when there's nothing to burn."
A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Tig Trager x Fem!OC...
Warning: murder, brief descriptions of gore, death...obviously.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The morning sun was beating down upon the pair a little bit harsher now, inducing a sheen of sweat to coat over Jax's forehead.
But the perspiration could've formed as a result of coming to the realization that he'd just blown the brains out of an ATF agent, left his body to decompose on Tara's bathroom floor, and spilled his guts--not even twenty-four hours later--to Isla.
Jax knew that he could trust her with anything--he always had been able to trust her with anything. But there was something telling him that she didn't exactly feel too wonderful about his revelation.
Her arm lifted to run across her forehead, ridding the skin of a few salty droplets.
"What do you mean--"
"I mean I put a bullet through his fuckin' skull and blew his brains out, Isla! That's what I mean."
He ran a thumb over his lips, realizing that he should've kept his tone subdued so close to the main doors of the clubhouse.
"Jesus, Jax." She breathed out, pinching the bridge of her nose as he started to pace quietly. "I--I can't believe you're telling me this."
Well, she could. Really, there wasn't anything she could've put past Jax anymore. And when it came to Tara...The man was an idiot. Always had been.
"Why was Kohn even at her place?"
Jax was fidgety. Uneasy. She couldn't blame him for that, could she? Because he'd just fucking killed a man--but still.
He wasn't even trying to hide it.
"Or did you lure him there or something--"
"Shut up." He growled, grabbing her bicep with his left hand as he pulled her to the side of the building. "Just listen to me."
"I'm listening, Jax, but you don't seem to be telling me a lot."
Realizing that he wasn't offering very much explanation, he nodded. Jax let go of her and beckoned her closer, pleading eyes melting her fucking heart.
"Isla, please." He wrapped his arms around her, minding the bloodied shirt.
"What do you want me to do?"
Ringed fingers splayed over her cheek, pushing stray blonde hairs out of her face. He sighed hard. Exasperated.
"Help me get rid of him--"
"Jackson--"
"I'm not asking you to lug his dead body to the creek and throw him in. I'm just asking you to offer a helping hand and be a lookout or something."
Isla searched his features for a morsel of something that'd indicate Jax was messing with her. But he was dead serious--his face set to neutral, eyes glazed over.
