Pixie, First Daughter of Anarchy: Book 2

Truth Hurts

Warning: Mention of death & blood.

After Pixie, Donna, Happy, and Juice had left for the hospital, a weird, tense atmosphere seemed to settle in the Teller-Morrow house, causing the remaining Sons to escape to the front drive and wait for Clay to finish getting ready to leave for the clubhouse. Lowell and Kip had packed Luann, Lyla, and Hughie into Lowell's car and were on their way to drop the girls and the dog at Cara Cara before heading over to the clubhouse to make a start on clearing up the chaos from the party the night prior.

Jax had been watching Tig smoke away from the others at the end of the front garden for a little while now, he was almost motionless as he stared blankly out onto the quiet road with clouded blue eyes, leaning his back against one of the small cherry trees Gemma had planted, the branches just above his head providing him with some shade. Tig's hand periodically came up to take a puff of his cigarette almost like muscle memory, but other than that, he was silent and still. It was rare the Sergeant was this motionless and despondent, usually, he'd be laughing with Bobby or teasing Jax, taking up the room with his energy and charisma, and that was all gone now Pixie had left. The other Sons were unusually quiet too, Jax noted. They were all milling around, trying to figure out where they stood with the events of the past twenty-four hours. Bobby still looked as though he was questioning his entire existence and was positioned next to Piney at the end of the drive, both sat on their respective bike and trike. Piney looked like the embodiment of a rolling thunderstorm as he cleaned his handlebars with a sage green rag, his wise blue eyes now dark and violent as he occasionally cast glances towards the front door. It was safe to say Piney was out for blood over what happened to his little 'sweetheart'. Opie was hovering by the entrance to the house with an unusually stern expression, his arms folded, biceps swelling under his leather jacket and kutte. Unable to stomach the silence for a moment longer, Jax got up from his bike and ambled across the short, clipped grass towards Tig, it crunched softly under his white sneakers, though the sounds seemed amplified in the quiet. The older man heard him coming and raised his thick dark eyebrows, turning to watch as Jax approached him, the young Vice President taking a cigarette of his own from his kutte pocket.

"Hey, man." Tig greeted in a low rumble, fishing out his silver zippo embossed with a skull and tossing it to Jax for him to use as he stopped beside Tig, shoulder to shoulder under the cherry tree. Jax caught Opie in his peripheral sauntering further down the drive towards Piney and Bobby, to give Jax and Tig some privacy, sensing whatever was about to be said was going to be emotional and private.

"Hey, you good?" Jax greeted back, taking in a deep inhale from his cigarette and running a hand over his gelled blonde locks, feeling the smoke enter his lungs and settle his mind. He studied Tig as he let out curls of grey smoke from his lips, Tig met his gaze with a deep and tired sigh, the simple sound releasing so many different feelings out with it.

"Yeah." Tig nodded his head, right hand going up to press his index and middle fingertips to his chin, rubbing the weathered skin and chestnut stubble there.

"Bullshit." Jax objected with a smirk, his voice joking and smooth, easing the tension as the corner of Tig's lips curled up a little. "You suck at lying, y'know that right?" He queried, smirk turning into a grin as Tig nodded his head and let out a small chuckle.

"Yeah. Thought I was pretty good at it until I got with a human lie detector. She reads me like a billboard." Tig agreed with a shake of his head before tipping it back to rest against the rough tree trunk, the shadows from the leaves casting dark spots across his face. Jax took another puff and shifted his weight from one leg to the other before going to sit on top of a small wooden bench to the side of Tig, hopping up so he was sat on the backrest with his feet on the seat.