No one expected Otto's secrets to come to light after he had passed away. One secret will shake the roots of his beloved club in ways no one ever seen coming; Especially the leader of SAMCRO, Jax Teller.
***** Part of this story was co-wrote with a...
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The roar of his Dyna rolled through the still California air as Jax rode into his kingdom, his black KDs securely in place to protect his eyes from the midday sun. It was mid afternoon; himself along with Hap, Bobby and Quinn had just returned from a trip to Diosa Norte to check on Colette and the girls. Not that there needed to be four of them but shit had been quiet for a change and ain't nothing wrong with checking out the new stock. Jax for one hadn't had his dick sucked in weeks let alone be balls deep in some sweet, young pussy. Days had been long as shit; most nights his tired ass passed out in the apartment alone with a bottle of Jack and half pack of smokes. Not that he couldn't have been dipping his cock any night he desired, hell the croeaters would be banging down his door had they known he needed a good suck. With the shit they were dealing with with Otto's murder, there wasn't much time for pleasure.
Backing his Harley into it's normal spot at the lead of the pack of mechanical beasts, Jax flipped down the kickstand and swung his leg over the saddle, unclipping his helmet as he braced his feet on the asphalt. Taking a quick survey of the lot, he lowered his KDs and slipped them into his pocket. The black van was gone but Jax shrugged it off. No doubt Gemma sent the Prospect out for more booze. A few guys were set to arrive from Indian Hills in the next few days; always need to have a good supply of liquor, weed and pussy for the boys to dive into. Jax would be lying if he didn't admit it was one thing he enjoyed about the long runs. Not only the freedom of the open road but the freedom to enjoy all the sex he wanted without having to answer to an old lady or most of all his mother.
As Jax strutted his normal stride towards the clubhouse the sound of laughter pricked at his ears. His eyes averted to the left to find his eldest son Abel with Unser, having a good time on the swingset Gemma had installed a few years back when Thomas was born. His boys spent a lot of time there, too much time really. Jax knew this life wasn't the place for kids, especially his sons but at the same time he knew this was their legacy; the path he was laying down for them was the same one JT attempted for him. Difference was he was trying to get them away from all the outlaw shit. He didn't want that for his boys when they were ready to patch into the club and eventually take their place at the head of the table.
"Aye Jackie Boy.." Chibs clapped Jax on the shoulder as he met him just outside the clubhouse doors. Quickly he did another survey of the lot. Tig's bike was in the normal spot in the line up but he was surprised to not see him as usual.
"Where's Tig and Rat?" he questioned the Scot.
Chibs shrugged his shoulders in unison to his answer.
"Took da van, Jackie. Didn' say where they were goin'."
The president's blue eyes rolled clockwise as the feeling deep in the pit of his stomach began to churn. Jax hated that shit; hated when his own body told him shit wasn't right. It was a damn curse at times.
Gripping the cool metal of the door handle, Jax pulled it open quickly before glancing back at his VP.
"Church in an hour. Let them know." With that, the blonde biker disappeared into the clubhouse.
[30 minutes later]
Jax grabbed the fresh towel that hung over the shower door, running the soft fabric over his three day old stubble before wiping it down over his goatee. His naked body dripped with warm water, the droplets making the ink on his chest and back shimmer. His finger threaded through his wet hair, slicking it back from his face as he smoothed the towel over his arms and abs before wrapping it around his waist, tucking it in at the end. Swiping his damp hand across the old mirror above the sink, the man before him stared back. Jax Teller was no doubt handsome, rough around the edges in some ways but that made him attractive even more to the ladies. And one of those ladies would have the privilege of occupying the bed in the other room with him tonight. After all the tits and ass flaunted at Diosa earlier in the day, Jax knew this dry spell needed to be rectified. Church, whiskey, weed, pussy. Exactly in the order.
Tossing the towel to the floor, Jax walked his naked self to where his jeans, flannel and kutte laid on the foot of the bed, waiting to be back on their rightful place. His kutte never seemed to be off his back for long; he felt even more naked than he already was without it. Slipping his clean boxers and baggy denim on, the chain from his wallet jingled against itself. The bullet that hung from the silver chain around his neck swung from side to side against his chest as he moved, fastening the SAMCRO belt buckle he wore with pride. The flannel covered his arms next along with his kutte, tugging it into it's proper place on his shoulders. Pulling a smoke from his opened pack of Marlboros, Jax left the apartment, making his way out to get ready for church.
Finding the clubhouse unusually quiet Jax furrowed his brows with intrigue. Usually the place would be roaming with croeaters by now but the place was eerily quiet. His stride widened as he headed out the narrow hall to the outside door, pushing it open only to find Otto's daughter, covered in blood, in a heated discussion with his mother.
"Jesus Christ Scar!" His voice dripping with concern and anger. The piercing blue of his eyes darted from Tig to the Prospect who seemed to have tensed with the President's arrival.
"What the fuck happened to you?!" His voice was deep as he grabbed her elbow and, rougher than intended, spun her around to look at him. She had barely made her way to Charming less than a week ago and already she was going to have him balls deep in bullshit they didn't need.
"Make sure no one saw this shit." Jax instructed as he looked at his brothers hovering around whatever was inside that van. Pulling Scarlet towards the clubhouse, once inside all bets were off. His voice changed and concern took over.
"You hurt? Anywhere?" He began to fuss over the petite girl in front of him, checking her for any sign that it was her own blood she was wearing. Just as his inspection intensified the sound of heavy footsteps caused him to look up. The first person he saw was Tig.
"You. Church. NOW." The prez's tone told them he was not impressed by their afternoon charade. He hated when shit went down that he knew nothing about or had any control over. And as of late, that meant anything to do with Scarlet.
Shifting his eyes to Gemma as she sauntered her way into the room, her perfect primed self as always. The woman was what all the pussy that flocked the place every night strided to be but no one could be Gemma Teller. She would be the matriarch of their kingdom long after her cold body was laid in the earth.
"Take her and get her cleaned up." His eyes darted to the younger woman of the two. "I'll deal with you later."
Releasing Scarlet, his arm fell to his side, the other stroking his goatee as he did when his anger got the best of him. The words Hap spoke behind him didn't escape his ears. She might have known how to take care of her own shit but Scarlet was now their family, their responsibility and their problem if shit got out of hand. Rules needed to be set and they would be. To the members of his club /and/ to Scarlet.
