Promising Young Women | Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction | Jax Teller x OC

Chapter Fourteen: Skinny Love

Saturday, 3:07 pm

Jax tapped some ash from his cigarette impatiently into the tray in front of him. He glanced at the time on his prepay one more time, just because he had nothing better to do, and just because he was fucking sick of this shit, and then tossed it back onto the table with a rough sigh.

"He's gonna make a habit of this, huh?"

His head turned at the sound of his VP's gruff voice and sighed again. "All I know is that I didn't drive all the way out to Oakland just to sit outside some restaurant, again, sittin' on my hands like an asshole, again. This is, what? The third time he's done this to us? Every single goddamn time I pin this guy down for a meet, he rolls up in here on his own time like he's royalty or some shit."

"I think all those people in the Royal family gotta actually show up on time though. You know, protocol or whatever... that old bird seems like she runs a pretty tight ship over there."

Now, Jax shot his VP a wary grin. "Since when you pay attention to any of that? You been readin' the tabloids behind my back?"

"I dunno," Opie just shrugged nonchalantly. "Wendy keeps all those magazines in the waiting room for customers and sometimes, maybe I read them when I'm on break, okay?"

"Oh, really?"

"Sure. You know all that drama between those two brothers is pretty interesting. I haven't decided yet whether Harry and Meghan were right or wrong to spill all the tea like that though. Can't imagine I'd be too happy if it was my brother talkin' to Oprah or whatever, spillin' all the family secrets on international television."

Jax scrunched up his nose at his VP. "I think you got too much time on your hands, bro."

Darkness flickered across Opie's face before he dropped his eyes down to his lap. "No shit."

All Jax could do was clap a hand on his brother's shoulder and hope for the best - where all of this was concerned. Ope and his self-inflicted marriage woes, this meeting with Pope and Marks... maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part, what else was he supposed to do? His eyes darted out to the relatively busy street to his right and he took a long toke from the cigarette in between his lips to calm his nerves.

Jax exhaled roughly through his nostrils, mashed his cigarette in the tray, and then dug into the front pocket of his leather kutte with enough agitation to carry him through the rest of his day. This was the last thing the club needed right now... they were so close. So fucking close. But this one last obstacle in their path to finally and truly going legit obviously planned on doing everything and anything in his power to make their lives as difficult as possible.

Asshole.

And then, as if on cue, a shiny black Mercedes-Benz pulled right up to the curb, just like last time. And just like last time, the man of the hour slid out of that Benz like the west coast mafia kingpin he was.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Jax smirked, and clicked his tongue as he pointed to that mafia kingpin. "You think he's gonna play nice today?"

Opie shot him a wary glance and shook his head. "I'd put money on this meet ending exactly the way the last one did, brother. I hope I'm wrong - I really do - but I wouldn't hold my breath if I was you."

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath. "No shit."

Damon Pope adjusted the lapels on his navy suit jacket before fastening one of the buttons, like that would just put the icing on the cake of this whole thing - purposely keeping them waiting, pointedly letting them know where things stood and who called the shots in this territory.