Blue Angel

Mercy Killin'

"They're all ready, brotha"

The first words Jax heard as the rumble of his harley came to a halt on the dirt lot of the warehouse SAMCRO leased from Oswald only a few years ago. Having to rebuild after the shit with the Mayans wasn't going to be in the works any time soon so the agreement with Elliott was the next best thing, at least it was off the grid, away from prying eyes.

"You get everythin' I asked for?" Jax's eyes darted towards Tig, calmly retrieving his fresh pack of Marlboros from the plastic wrapper.

"Yep, had the Prospects go on a little shoppin' trip, Jax. They even brought me back change." Tig's wry smirk making its way across his face. "Maybe enough to get me a cheap whore later."

The filter from his yet to be lit smoke was held between the President's lips, dangling at one corner as his gaze turned to his brother's comment. Tig Trager was known as the 'freak' of the group, ready and willing to do anything and everything for a thrill. He went a little /outside the box/. Sometimes way more outside than Jax was willing to travel.

"Good luck with that shit, brotha." Happy stepped in next to Tig, slapping his hand to his shoulder and you could sense the urgency in Happy wanting to chuckle. "Whores in these parts are only worth that dollar ya got back."

Jax shook his head. The only thing that ran through his mind for a brief second was they /were/ really all about the killin' and the pussy. Outlawing 'n fucking. All a man's importance somehow tied into one of those two right there.

"You knuckleheads gonna talk about your cheap whores all night or we gonna get this shit done so you can actually go get your cocks sucked?"

With his thumb Jax flicked the top of his zippo to allow the flame to come into contact with the end of his smoke. A damn joint would have been better and he knew he'd be pulling some of that shit into his lungs a little later, right after he dealt with the problem at hand.

A steady stream of greyish blue smoke escaped and drifted out both nostrils slowly as the king of Charming strutted l across the lot towards the double doors of the building, leaving the line of Harley's behind him. Chibs stepped in behind as did the rest of the other members of the MC. The assholes waiting behind those said doors weren't going to live to see another day after the shit they pulled. You got one chance to do right by SAMCRO; you were either on their side or in the fuckin' way. And these assholes hadn't chose wisely.

The muffled words filled the open space of the warehouse as Jax stepped through and entered the dirty room. Duct tape keeping the two men quiet; well, unable to string coherent words together at least. Jax's white sneakers scuffed across the cement floor as he circled the two men, sensing their fear as they began to shift their seats, their bodies fastened securely to the wooden chairs.

"Evenin' gentlemen," Jax began. "Seems we have a slight problem hmm?" His strides slow and deliberate in a clockwise direction around the men. The rest of the group, even a few prospects Jax had requested be there, semicircled around the President as he calmly spoke to the two motherfuckers that fucked with their girls, in turn, fuckin with the MC.

"Mmmfff..mmmmmfff"

The idiot on the left began flailing his head as Jax took one more long drag from his smoke. Obviously the pussy of the two. Maybe he'd toughen him up before he killed him, leave him watch the man next to him be gutted like a fish. Undoubtedly make him piss his pants before they'd give him a mercy killing.

"Rip that shit off." Jax snapped; Happy quickly moving forward to obey the leader of SAMCRO. Yelps emitted through the room, echoing off the boarded in walls.

"You got some shit ya wanna say, fucker? Wanna pray, maybe beg for your life...get down and kiss my fuckin' feet?" Jax's eyes rolled, taking a step back as he glanced down at his spotless white Nikes, his reminder that he had nothing to prove to anyone. He didn't have to fall into the stereotype biker bullshit, and no one was /ever/ gonna question that shit.