Sleeping With The Devil

Chapter Twenty One

Jax felt the weight of the patch on his vest as he rode through the streets of Los Angeles, the cool night air whipping against his face. The Nameless MC patch was new, the leather still stiff, but it carried a significance that he couldn't quite put into words. He had worked hard to earn it, but now, with the information he had uncovered about the Irish, he felt like the real test was just beginning.
He'd spent the last few days gathering intel, keeping his ear to the ground, and following up on every lead. The whispers about the Irish had been vague at first, just rumours passed around by low-level criminals and barflies. But tonight, he'd finally struck gold.Jax had been hanging around a dingy dive bar on the outskirts of town, one of those places where nobody asked questions and everyone had something to hide. It was there, in the shadows, that he overheard two men talking—Irish accents thick as they discussed something that made his blood run cold.The Irish weren't just regrouping; they were planning a full-scale assault on the Nameless MC. They were bringing in reinforcements, pulling strings with some of their old allies, and getting ready for a showdown that would make the last battle look like a warm-up.Jax knew he had to get this information back to Archer as soon as possible. But first, he needed to clear his head. The weight of what he'd uncovered was heavy, and the adrenaline of the discovery was still coursing through him as he rode back to the clubhouse.When he arrived, the place was alive with the usual buzz of activity, the members of the Nameless MC relaxing after the tense days they'd just come through. Jax parked his bike and made his way inside, feeling the familiar hum of the clubhouse settle around him. It was a place of refuge, a fortress where he could be himself, but tonight it felt different. The information he carried made the walls feel smaller, and the air thicker.He needed a drink, something to steady his nerves before he spoke to Archer. The bar was packed, but he managed to slip through the crowd and grab a bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a generous glass. As he downed the first sip, he felt a presence beside him and turned to see Farrah.She was sitting at the bar, nursing a drink of her own. Her eyes were tired, shadows under them from everything she'd been through, but there was still a fire in them that Jax couldn't help but admire."Rough night?" she asked, her voice soft but steady.Jax gave a small shrug, trying to downplay the storm inside him. "Something like that. Just trying to figure some stuff out."Farrah nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I get that. It's been... a lot, lately."They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their thoughts. Jax had always felt a connection to Farrah, something more than just the fact that they were both part of the club. She had been kind to him when he first joined, making him feel welcome in a world that was often harsh and unforgiving. But there was more to it than that—something deeper that he didn't quite understand.As the night wore on, they continued to drink, the whiskey loosening their tongues and their inhibitions. Jax found himself talking more freely than he normally would, sharing stories from his past, and the struggles he'd faced before finding a home with the Nameless MC. Farrah listened, her eyes soft with understanding, and for the first time in a long while, Jax felt like someone saw him.The alcohol worked its way through his system, blurring the edges of his thoughts, making everything feel a little warmer, a little closer. And as he looked at Farrah, he felt a pull that he couldn't ignore—a need for connection, for comfort amid all the chaos.Before he knew what he was doing, Jax leaned in, his lips brushing against Farrah's. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but when she didn't pull away, he deepened it, his hand moving to cup her face as he lost himself in the moment.For a few seconds, everything else disappeared—the Irish, the club, the weight of the world. It was just him and Farrah, two people finding solace in each other.But then, reality crashed back in.Farrah suddenly pulled away, her eyes wide with surprise and something like regret. Jax blinked, the fog of the alcohol lifting just enough for him to realise what he had done."Farrah, I'm sorry, I—"But before he could finish, he heard a voice behind him, cold and sharp."What the hell do you think you're doing?"Jax turned to see Viper standing there, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief. The tension in the air was palpable, and Jax's heart sank as he realized just how badly he had messed up."It's not what it looks like," Jax stammered, but the words felt hollow even to him.Viper's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Jax thought he might swing at him. But then, with a visible effort, Viper took a step back, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides."Get out of here, Jax," Viper said, his voice low and dangerous. "And sober up. You've got a meeting with Archer, and you don't want to be in the state you're in now when you tell him what you've found."Jax swallowed hard, nodding as he backed away from the bar. The gravity of what had just happened hit him like a freight train, and the guilt twisted in his gut. He didn't know what had come over him, why he had done something so reckless. But he knew he couldn't dwell on it now. There were bigger issues at hand.As he made his way to one of the side rooms, where he could clear his head and prepare for the meeting with Archer, his mind raced. The kiss with Farrah had been a mistake, one that he would have to deal with later. But right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand—stopping the Irish before they could strike.A short while later, after splashing his face with cold water and forcing himself to sober up as much as possible, Jax found himself sitting across from Archer in the war room. The atmosphere was heavy with the weight of what he was about to say.Archer looked at him, his gaze sharp, the earlier tension between them forgotten as they focused on the mission. "What did you find out, Jax?"Jax took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "The Irish are planning something big, Prez. They're regrouping, pulling in reinforcements from their old allies. They're gearing up for a full-scale assault on us. I don't have all the details yet, but it's clear they're not going to back down."Archer's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the information. "How soon?""I'm not sure," Jax admitted. "But it's clear they're getting ready to move soon. We need to be prepared."There was a long pause as Archer processed the news. The tension in the room was thick, the weight of the impending conflict pressing down on both of them. But then, to Jax's surprise, Archer's expression softened slightly, a hint of pride in his eyes."You've done good work, Jax," Archer said, his voice steady. "You've made me proud. We needed this information, and you got it. Now we can plan our next move."Jax felt a surge of relief at Archer's words, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening slightly. "Thank you, Prez. I'll keep digging, find out everything I can."Archer nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "Good. But for now, I want everyone to take a step back. We've been on high alert for days, and we need to be smart about this. The Irish aren't ready to strike just yet, and I want us to be at full strength when they do. So I'm ordering a chill week. Everyone's earned it."Jax blinked, surprised. "A chill week?"Archer nodded again, his expression resolute. "Yeah. We're not backing down, but we need to regroup and plan the endgame. Let the men relax, and catch their breath. But make no mistake—we're going to end this, and when we do, the Irish won't know what hit them."Jax nodded, a sense of determination settling over him. He had messed up tonight with Farrah, but he wouldn't let that define him. He would do whatever it took to help the club, to make sure they were ready for whatever came next."Understood, Prez," Jax said, standing up. "I'll make sure everyone knows."Archer gave him a curt nod, and with that, Jax left the war room, his mind already spinning with everything that had happened. The chill week would give them all a chance to regroup, to prepare for the showdown with the Irish. But for Jax, it also meant dealing with the consequences of his actions.As he walked through the clubhouse, he couldn't help but think of Farrah, of the kiss they had shared, and the look in Viper's eyes when he had caught them. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure—he couldn't afford to let his emotions get the better of him again.There was too much at stake.And as the week unfolded, Jax would have to prove, not just to Archer, but to himself, that he was worthy of the patch he wore, and of the trust the club had placed in him.