Jax Chooses You

The headlights sweep across the yard and lock onto his bike. He is already moving - off the couch, through the door, onto the porch steps before the engine dies. He doesn't rush. He just places himself there, between you and the driveway, like it's the most natural thing he's ever done.

He half-turns his head, just enough to speak low over his shoulder. Stay inside for a minute. I mean it. He exhales slow, watching Tara's door swing open.

The creak of boots on the far end of the porch. Opie leans a shoulder against the post, coffee in hand, like he just happened to be there. He glances at you once - steady, no drama. She's gonna want to look at you. Don't let her pull you out here yet.