It's Hard Not to Hate - An Outlaw Love Story

Chapter Forty-Five.

Jax awoke with a groan, rolling onto his stomach and pressing his face into his pillow. He knew Taylor wasn't there beside him, but he reached his arm out anyway, letting it rest on her empty side, the sheets cool and untouched.

Anger bubbled beneath his skin as the events from the previous night hit him full force. He couldn't decide what he was most upset about—the information he had discovered, or the way he reacted to it.

Deep down he knew, though, that he had taken things too far, that he had acted like a stubborn prick instead of like a man, and underneath all the anger was a whole lot of regret, clawing its way in.

As he rose from the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants he was flooded with guilt over the words he had said. He had acted like the old Jax—the Jax Teller he had been before Taylor, the Jax Teller he never wanted to be again. He used to be so quick to anger, so stubborn in his ways, and it had cost him a lot in his short life. And with the alcohol coursing through his veins and the betrayal stinging his heart he lashed out with no regard to how it would affect her.

Ripped paper crumpled under his bare feet, and he reached down to scoop the remains of Henry's letter into his palms, depositing them in a pile on the dresser with a roll of his blue eyes. The house was quiet, the nursery empty, and a glance out of the window as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen confirmed that Taylor was gone. For how long, he honestly had no idea.

There was a full pot of coffee waiting on the counter, his favorite #1 Dad mug resting next to it. He knew she was extending an olive branch of sorts, just as he had by leaving the water and pain killers on the dresser for her. He wanted her home, he wanted to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her and talk everything out, like they should've done in the first place.

Minutes passed, then an hour, with no sign of Taylor. He had finished several cups of coffee, and had resorted to pacing the kitchen. He shot off a couple texts to her —Where are you? When will you be home? I love you, darlin—with no reply. His two phone calls went unanswered a half hour later and he was beginning to grow concerned, an unsettled feeling replacing the anger he had felt earlier.

"Maybe she went to get Abel from mom?" He muttered to himself, pulling Gemma's contact up on his phone. Before he was able to press the send button a call from Bobby came through, and he answered it with a huff.

"What's up Bobby?"

"Hey, man, uh—"

"You make it to Glendale?" Jax asked, feigning interest—the only thing he cared about at that moment was getting Taylor home.

"About that. Listen, Jax, uh something happened this morning and, I uh..."

"What, Bobby?"

"Taylor—"

"What about Taylor? Do you know where she is? I've been trying to get ahold of her all morning."

"Jax—"

"Spit it the fuck out, Bobby, shit!"

"There was an incident this morning. She's fine, mostly. Abel's fine. They're on their way home, I'm following behind."

Jax sunk into the couch, the leather squeaking underneath him as he settled, one hand raking through his hair, the other squeezing the phone so tightly he thought it may shatter in his grip.

"You're being cryptic, Bobby, and now is really not the time. She's mostly okay? What the fuck—what happened?"

He heard a hefty sigh from the other end of the line, a moment of silence—only the whirring of Bobby's bike audible in the background—"The Mayans—"

"The Mayans what?" Jax roared, interrupting Bobby. He jumped from the couch and began pacing the house, using every bit of strength he had to keep from rushing out the door and heading toward their clubhouse.

"They cornered her in the parking lot of a grocery store on the outskirts of town. I came across them on my way out of town and intervened before, well.."

"Fuck! Did they hurt her?" Jax's voice boomed through the empty house, his heavy steps rattling the pictures on the walls as he stormed toward the bedroom.

"Jax, it's—"

"DID. THEY. HURT. HER?" He barked. "It's a yes or no question, god damnit!"

"He hit her in the face. A slap, really. That was when I pulled up and realized it was her. I intervened and nothing else happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner," Bobby gushed on a sigh.

"Did they touch my son?" Jax questioned, his voice lower but coated with rage.

"No," Bobby muttered.

Jax squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, tears pricking the backs of his eyes as he slipped out of his sweats and into a pair of jeans, a shirt and his kutte following.

"How long until she gets here?" Jax asked, his entire body shaking, his hands fumbling to get his pistol situated in its holster.

"We're just a few minutes out."

"Great," he spat. "Once she's in the drive head to the clubhouse, I'll meet you there in half and hour."

"Jax, son—" Bobby began.

"No, Bobby, you'll meet me at the fucking clubhouse. That's an order. As your superior you'll do as you're told if you know what's good for you." He knew this wasn't Bobby's fault, Bobby had likely saved her life, after all, but all Jax could see is red, there was not a rational thought swimming in his mind, and he couldn't focus on anything except for revenge.

The line went silent as Bobby disconnected the call, the roar of his bike sounding from outside as he approached. Jax stepped into a pair of boots and jogged out the front door just as Taylor's beat up blue car pulled to a stop next to his bike.

It didn't take him long to reach her and next thing he knew she was in his arms, her hands gripping him tight, her tears staining his shirt, her cries echoing through the quiet street. He couldn't even remember opening the door and pulling her out, it was all a blur, his veins coursing with relief, fear, guilt—you name it.

"Baby," Jax said after a while, the word muffled by her hair. He pushed her back to examine her, keeping his hands tight on her shoulders, his eyes roaming her face and landing on the visible handprint on her left cheek, the skin raised and angry and slick from tears. He pulled her back into his chest, unable to look at it any longer, knowing if he did he would lose it.

"Bobby, call Rat and get him here," Jax said over her head. Bobby had Abel on his hip and nodded, turning as he pulled out his phone to make the call.

"Jax, I—"

"Shh, baby, I'm gonna get this sorted out. You're okay," he cooed, petting her hair. "Let's get you inside."

"Be here in five," Bobby said as he approached, holding Abel out to Jax's waiting arms.

With Abel on one hip and Taylor tucked against the other he shuffled towards the house.

"Bobby," he said as he paused, turning his head to make eye contact with his treasurer. "Thank you."

Bobby nodded and hopped on his bike, heading in the direction of the clubhouse, while Jax hurried his girl and his kid into the house where he knew he could keep them safe.