Impact [Jax Teller//Sons Of Anarchy]

Chapter Eleven

“I don’t see this ending well for us,” Bobby said taking a sip of his whiskey on the rocks that I had poured him just moments before.

“I don’t think it matters what you think unless the majority think it with you,” Otto said. He was sitting on one of the bar stools; his elbow was on the bar while the rest of his body looked at the open clubhouse floor.

I stood to the side, wiping up spilled liquid hastily so that I could get to work on the other chores Gemma had given me.

“We’ll see about that,” Bobby simply said and downed the rest of his drink.

“You have to stop thinking that the kid is going to be anything like his dad in his last days. We only saw J.T. as someone who had gone soft.”

“You don’t know what went through his mind.”

“Well, I do know that his skull couldn’t have been that hard if that truck made a dust out of it.”

“That was uncalled for,” Bobby said not even glancing at Otto.

“Maybe, but you see my point, don’t you?”

Bobby didn’t bother to answer him.

“Alright, fellas,” Clay said as he entered the clubhouse, “Let the sit-down start.”

All the Sons piled into the room they used to discuss club business. I had only seen the inside once when Gemma asked me to vacuum up where someone had knocked over an ashtray. It was a long oval table with seats around it. At the head of the table I found half a cigar so I assumed that’s where Clay sat. The table itself was something to behold. It had the Reaper carved into it. It was quite beautiful work. I wanted to run my fingers over it, but I knew that would get me a nasty glance from whoever might have seen me.

Once the door closed to that room, the rest of us busied ourselves with our usual duties and of course no one dared try to look in or eavesdrop. It was club business, and even though the old ladies and the crow eaters were what held the club together, we would never be allowed in.

Suddenly the thought occurred to me: What if some day there would be a female member? I pondered over it for just a second. The thought seemed absurd. With the way these men treated women sometimes... It didn’t seem like they’d ever give them the appropriate respect. Who was I kidding? They’d never even give one woman a chance.

“Quinn,” a voice came from the clubhouse door. I glanced up and saw Liv escorting another girl inside. “Is Gemma around?”

“Did you check the office,” I asked without giving her a second glance.

“Oh, right.”

I had to say, Liv was a beautiful girl, but that’s about where it stopped. She had strawberry blonde hair and her face was soft and smooth enough that she barely had to wear any make up. She was older than me, but she could have been sixteen if you didn’t ask her age. She was however as sharp as a circle. She did have a big heart to make up for the lack of brain. She was a pretty sweet girl and I didn’t mind having to hang out with her all the time.

A few minutes later Gemma stormed into the clubhouse.

“Jesus Christ,” was all the said.

“That bad?” I asked.

“Liv is a sweetheart with a pussy probably made of gold, but Lord is she dumb.”

Gemma came around the bar and took a big swig from a whiskey bottle.

“To calm my temper,” she simply said. She lit a cigarette and exhaled deeply.

“She brought in a girl she met at the salon. She thought she’d be an asset to the club. It’s like she doesn’t know we have cops watching our every move. Anyone could be a planted rat.”