"Considering I'm Tig Trager's daughter, I can handle anything, Jax. And if that means having to deal with you and your crazy ass family, I'm here for the long run."
"You really wanna say my family is crazy when your dad is as crazy as it gets."
"I'm...
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Last night, Wendy had tried to kill herself. She has gotten her hands on crank and OD'd. Again. Shawn felt bad. Yes, she was pissed that Wendy almost killed Abel and that he was 10 weeks early but she didn't think she should have tried to kill herself.
Last night, Jax had told Shawn that while he was at the storage unit, he found a manuscript that was written by dad. It was about JT's ideas he had for the club. Ways to earn straight. Go legit.
Shawn knew this was going to stir things up between Jax and Clay. Jax never had any issues with how the club earned their money. But Jax idolized his father. JT had died 16 years ago when Jax was 14. He got hit by a semi out on the highway and got dragged 180 yards, dying three days later at St. Thomas. Not a day goes by that Jax doesn't miss his dad. And what better way to remember him by making his ideas come to life by seeing it through with the club.
Instead of going back to the house last night, they crashed at Shawn's apartment. They were practically living together at this point. Majority of Jax's clothes were there anyway and he had a key to the apartment. Hell, Shawn even did Jax's laundry.
Jax had left early that morning, having to run an errand for the club and that he would call her later. Shawn had just finished her paper for school that she had been working on the last three days when her phone started ringing.
"Hey babe." She answered
"Hey, Darlin'," Jax responded, "are you doing anything?"
"No, I just finished my paper," Shawn told him, "Why? What's up?"
"Think you could bring the manuscript to the garage?," he asked, "Left it by the bed.'
"Yeah, of course." She answered, walking to her room, "I'll get changed and be there in half an hour."
"Thanks, babe."
"I love you." Shawn smiled
"I love you, too."
Parking her car in her designated spot in the lot, Shawn grabbed the binder that held the manuscript. Jax had it stored in a '47 Knucklehead manual. She realized none of the guys would question why he's walking around with an old Harley manual.
Walking into the clubhouse, Shawn made her way over to the bar, "Hey Kip."
Said prospect about dropped the glass he was holding as Shawn walked up to him," H-Hey Shawn."
"Seen Jax anywhere?"
"Up on the roof, I think?" He answered. Shawn sent him a smile, making her way down the hallway and to the ladder that led to the roof.
Jax was sat looking over the lot, cigarette in hand. Shawn walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, dropping the binder in his lap, "Hey, babe."
