Two girls gone, one more found dead in her apartment... girls are dropping like flies in Charming. Samcro has a problem on its hands, and it's not just because all signs point to one of their own as the perpetrator. Because the new girl in town is o...
Jax pounded the gavel, bringing church to a start, and exhaled some smoke from his nostrils as his eyes skimmed around the table. Tonight was going to be a mixed bag, that was for sure, with both positive and negative orders of business on the agenda to take care of. No time like the present. Might as well get this train rolling so the party could start.
He took a deep breath and just gave it to them straight: "Alright, brothers. Let's start with the bad news first, huh?"
One glance around the room told him they all pretty much knew what was coming next, but it needed to be said. Needed to be done.
"I got off the phone with Tig just now," Jax nodded to them as he flicked his cigarette into the ashtray in front of him. "Brought him up to speed," and he pushed out a rough breath before dropping it, "He's not ready to come back, brothers. That's not to say he wasn't relieved as hell that the surveillance tape cleared his name on this, but I don't think it really made him feel any better either."
Bobby nodded grimly, digging his elbows even deeper into the table. "He say how much longer he's gonna be gone?"
"Nope," Jax lifted a shoulder, flashing him a tight smile. "I think he's using this time out at the cabin to sober up and get a handle on his shit, in more ways than one. I mean, if your kinda sorta ol' lady getting murdered because you walked her right into her killer's hands isn't enough of a wake-up call then... I don't really know what is. He doesn't feel like he's ready to be around the parties, the booze and all that just yet and I can't blame him. If this is what he needs, then we gotta support that. And to be honest, after the way he was talkin' just now... I don't know if he's ever really gonna feel comfortable being back in this clubhouse. I think maybe we gotta start preparing ourselves for that, too."
And so a heavy silence settled over the chapel, each club brother taking a moment to process what that meant for their exiled brother - who'd now chosen to turn that club-mandated exile into a self-inflicted one.
But still, if their roles were reversed, Jax just might feel the same way. And if that were the case, he'd need his brothers behind him just as much.
I just can't do it yet, bro. I can't walk in there and not see her. It's my fault... it's my fuckin' fault. I deserve everything I got comin' to me...
He nodded to himself, pushing through the darkness to move on to the next not-so-great order of business for this evening's session of church, and tipped his chin to Juice.
"You wanna give us a quick run-down on your talks with the girls?"
Juice spread his hands out with a shrug. "Not much to tell 'cuz nobody's seen Pope or Marks or any of the guys we brought through the studio yesterday."
"A'ight," he nodded, flicking some more ash from his cigarette. "And that's kinda what we figured, but we needed to cross it off the list."
"Well," Chibs chimed in from his end of the Redwood. "At least they've got their eyes out now. And if they see anybody, now they know to come straight to us with it."
Jax blew out a stream of smoke, his chest tightening at the memory, but there was no need to keep this from the club either - despite the way the entire fucking experience had been a complete mind-fuck from start to finish.
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