Impact [Jax Teller//Sons Of Anarchy]

Chapter Sixteen

There came a knock at the door.

I really did not feel like talking to anyone. The conversation I had with Rhodes’ wife had left me queasy and I knew I wasn’t fooling anyone when I told Gemma I was going home because I suddenly felt sick. She gave me that pout and glare she always gave when she knew you were bullshitting her, but fortunately she let me go.

I decided to play dead instead of answering the door. I couldn’t face anyone. Most importantly, I couldn’t face Barone again.

“Quinn, it’s me, Jax,” a voice called after the second knock.

Jax? What was he doing here? How did he know where I stayed? Did Gemma tell him about me fleeing this afternoon?

I hesitantly got up and slowly unlocked the door. “Hey,” I said as I saw Jax standing there.

“Gemma said I would find you here. Are you okay?”

I already knew what I looked like without having to check a mirror. I had been crying so my mascara was probably running down my face and my eyes were red and puffy. Stupidly, I also remembered telling Gemma I was staying at a motel when she offered me one of the rooms in the clubhouse one night.

“I’ve had better days,” I said.

“Can I come in?” he asked. Genuine concern was displayed on his face.

“Okay,” I said holding the door open for him. He slowly moved past me and surveyed the small room. Everything was just about the same as when I first got there. I was living out of my suitcase because I never knew when I’d have to run.

“This is...” Jax started.

“Small? Cramped? A dump?” I finished for him.

“I was going to say compact, but I guess that works too.”

I almost laughed at that. “Look, Jax, you don’t have to do this.”
“Check up on you?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“You know you don’t have to do this either, right?” he asked sitting down on the bed.

“Do what?”

“Act like you don’t have feelings.”

“I’m not denying that I have feelings. I just don’t like to show them.”

“Are you afraid it makes you look weak?”

“Something like that.”

He patted the spot next to him; an indication that I should sit down. I did so. I sat on my hands and looked down at my bare feet.

“I don’t like to feel.”

“Then what do you like?”

I looked up at his face. God, he was gorgeous. I knew that in ten years or so his age would sit well with him and he’d be even more handsome. His sweet face would turn hard, but those blue eyes would forever remain striking. I completely forgot that I had felt like shit just moments before. Right then, it was just him and I.

“I like to feel, I like to touch and I like to taste,” I said staring into those amazing eyes.

He seemed a bit taken aback by my sudden change in mood. To be fair, so was I.

“Are you really sure you want to do this now? Are you just avoiding talking about it?”

I leaned in and nipped his ear with my teeth. “Definitely,” I answered both of his questions at once.

It looked like he pondered the situation for a second, but before I knew it his lips were on mine. We kissed long and hard until my lips were sore and I wanted more of him.

It didn’t take long for my wish to be fulfilled. Our clothes were off in mere seconds. I crawled up on the bed and Jax positioned himself between my legs. I clawed at his back as he thrust into me. For once, it didn’t feel like I was just doing my job. He was there to pleasure me just as much as I was there to pleasure him.

I let out ragged breaths as he thrust harder into me. The headboard was banging furiously onto the wall and I had no doubt that we were putting on quite the show for my neighbours. I didn’t want it to end. I knew that I was close to climaxing, but I didn’t want him to stop.

Heat was spreading over me. And, oh God, it felt so good. I needed this. I needed to feel this.
We both came at the same time and he flopped down next to me on the bed when we were done. It took me a while to catch my breath.

“We should avoid talking about feelings more often,” he said.
To my surprise, I laughed.

***

I saw Jax out a few minutes later. I wasn’t sad that I didn’t get the after sex cuddling experience. I wasn’t doing it for that anyway. I needed a distraction and, oh wow, did Jax Teller not provide a big one.

I had barely closed the door when someone knocked. I opened the door with a smile expecting Jax.

“Did you forget something?” I asked in a playful tone.

It wasn’t Jax at the door. Instead it was a woman. She was wearing a big black hoodie pulled over her head and she stared at me nervously. I wanted to slam the door in her face and lock it, but then she spoke.

“I’m Linda. We spoke on the phone.” She looked around nervously as if she expected someone was watching us. I pulled her inside the room quickly and looked around the lot myself. Jax was gone and no one else was standing around or peeking through their windows.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded once I shut and locked the door.

She pulled the hood back to reveal dark brown hair tied up in a ponytail. She reached underneath her shirt and pulled out a brown file.

“What’s this?” I asked taking the file when she handed it to me.
“I think it’s the reason Carl got killed. It had your name and the garage phone number on a note inside. Carl was looking over this when he got home. He rushed out and said he needed to go talk to the captain. He never came home.”

I opened the file and inside I saw a picture of Agent James Barone. Had Rhodes been trying to help me and ended up getting killed for it?

“I’m so sorry, Mrs Rhodes. If I had known how dangerous the situation was...” I couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence.

“Carl was a good man. There was no one he wouldn’t help. I just hope he didn’t die in vain.” The way she looked at me was something I would never forget. It was the look of blame. She held me responsible for her husband’s death. I knew that whatever he had died for and whatever cause I had in this laid right between these pages.

I was reluctant to read or even page through its contents, but I knew it had to be done.

I read every page and I scanned every picture. The file must have been composed by Rhodes himself because it was strewn with newspaper articles, reports and a copy of Barone’s personal file.

Barone had serious problems. A psychological report stated he had serious impulse control and aggression issues. He had spent nearly a year in therapy for it. This was not news to me. Barone had already displayed this type of behaviour when I met with him.

It was the last few pages that changed my life forever though. It was a copy of mother’s post mortem medical examination and a copy of her death certificate.

The medical examiner had ruled her death as a homicide, saying that she had bruising on her neck. It stated she was most likely forced to take the pills and then strangled.

The death certificate however, claimed she committed suicide.
My mother had been killed and Barone had something to do with it.