Chapter 223
Rowan's Point of View
Juice was sitting on the steps outside of Charming PD when I pulled up. He looked up and saw me and got up, jogging over to the car. Quickly I grabbed John's letters off the passenger seat and froze, momentarily unsure of what to do with them. As Juice approached the car I shoved them down into my purse and sat my bag on the floor in the back seat. It was best if he didn't see these letters, especially before Jax did.
The question that's been swirling through my mind though is, should Jax even see these?
If he thinks Clay or Gemma had anything to do with John's death it would destroy him. It would be the Donna Incident all over again. He still hasn't truly let that go deep down in his heart. He hasn't spoken about it in awhile, but I feel it sometimes when he sees Opie.
These letters could push Jax deeper into the club. Is that what I want? Is that what he needs? Leaving SAMCRO never seemed like an option, so I never really thought about it seriously. It was always just a daydream. But Jax wanted to leave and it was becoming a reality. Not having to worry whether he would be killed every time he left the house was something I truly wanted. I didn't want our kids to grow up without him because he ended up dead.
But this club was Jax. Down to his very core.
Juice opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. "Hey, thanks for the ride."
"No problem, what happened?" I asked, pulling away from the curb, heading towards TM and the clubhouse. I figured that's where he'd wanna go anyway.
Juice sighed and rubbed his Mohawk. "Roosevelt pulled me in on a possession charge. Had like half a blunt in my pocket. Total bullshit."
"Did he contact your PO?" If any of the guys fall out of line for any reason they'll get tossed back in prison.
Lowen -the clubs lawyer- went over this with me and Gemma extensively. She also handled Abel's adoption for us too after Rosen left. Abel was officially and legally my little boy. I couldn't be more happy to be that little boys momma.
"That's a plus." I breathed out. I noticed I was gripping the steering wheel rather tight and tried to loosen my grip.
A comfortable silence fell over the vehicle as we drove. Say Amen (Saturday Night) by Panic At The Disco! played on the radio softly.
I pulled into the lot and parked by the doors to the clubhouse. I waited for Juice to hop out, but he stayed sitting in the passenger seat. I glanced at him and could tell something was eating away at him.
"C-Can I ask you something?" Juice looked at me. I turned the radio down, silencing Brandon Urie.
"Shoot. Ask anything." I replied, glancing at him.
"What are you?" Juice asked.
My brows furrowed together and I laughed a little. "Excuse me?"
Juice cleared his throat and closed his eyes tightly, when he reopened them he gave me a half smile. He was clearly nervous. "Sorry. I meant what's your heritage? Like where do you come from?"
We both laughed and I nodded getting what he meant. "Well, I'm part Irish, from my mother's side. A little bit of Scottish mixed with something else on Deacons side. I'm a mutt. Got a little bit of everything in me though. Least that's what Lena says." I laughed again, staring at Juice. His face was rather serious. He stared out the windshield, lost in his own lost. "Why?"
