Jax could feel Tara's blood soaking through his shirt as he held her in his arms. With his hands tangled in her matted hair and his tears falling onto her face as he kissed her and begged her to wake up, he knew she was gone. Still, he couldn't help but watch for the rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelids- any sign of life. But there was none. Tara was dead. Someone had suddenly and savagely stolen Jax's entire reason for living from him. But who? And why? He couldn't worry about that now. Nor could he worry about the way DA Patterson was eyeing him, the lone survivor in a room full of carnage. She would try to pin this on him, he was sure. That was fine. It was his fault, after all. He knew that. Nothing mattered anymore anyway, except Tara- his beautiful, courageous wife. He'd been estranged from her for so long, but they'd finally found their way back to each other. And now…

The smell of blood was so thick, Jax was nearly choking on it. It was everywhere. His chest ached as he sobbed, and it felt as if his soul was being torn from his body. He had known pain, many times, but this was different. There would be no recovering from this. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the blood-stained kitchen cupboard. He fought the urge to pass out.

"Daddy?" came a small voice from across the room. "Daddy, are you alright?" Abel. Oh God, Abel. He couldn't see his mother like this. He couldn't see his father like this. What would Jax say to him? After how hard he'd fought to protect his children their entire lives, he couldn't protect them from this.

"Abel," he moaned, opening his eyes. He was surprised by how bright the room had suddenly become. The light hurt his eyes, and he squinted instinctively.

"Hi, Daddy," Abel answered, an excited giggle escaping his lips as he ran from the doorway to the king-sized bed his father was laying in. Jax clutched his sweat-covered chest with a shaky hand and let out a ragged breath. It was just a dream.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed. He lifted the blankets so Abel could climb under the covers with him.

"What's wrong?" his little boy asked as he cuddled into his father's side. Jax wrapped one arm tightly around his son.

"Just a bad dream, buddy," he explained, kissing Abel's forehead.

"Ohhhh," Abel said, patting his father's bare chest sympathetically with his tiny hand. "I'm sorry, Dad. Like with monsters or somethin'?" Jax smiled in spite of himself.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Something like that…" His voice trailed off as he stared out his bedroom window into the back yard, an acre of rolling hills and giant trees and peace and quiet. But he couldn't shake the gruesome image of his wife lying dead by his mother's hand from his mind, nor any of the other things that happened in his dream- losing Opie, killing Clay, Piney's murder, the clubhouse being bombed. In the three years since leaving Charming, Jax had often wondered what life would be like if he'd stayed. He couldn't imagine things would have ever gotten that extreme, but if there was even a chance…

"Mommy said you need to get up now," Abel said, crawling out from under the covers and hopping out of the bed. "They'll be here soon."

"Right," Jax nodded. He sat up in bed, stretching his arms wide as he yawned. "Hey Abel," he called after his son, who was already halfway down the hall.

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday."

Jax sat at the edge of his bed for a moment, still trying to calm his nerves. How long had he been asleep? It felt as if he'd dreamt years' worth of events in just a few hours. He stood up, pulling his disheveled boxers back up toward his perfectly toned hips. He was finally getting used to sleeping with them on. Tara had nixed the whole "sleeping in the nude" thing a couple months prior, after Thomas went running into their bedroom in the middle of the night following a bad dream, and was thankfully too tired to notice that daddy was completely naked. Jax and Tara had lain there, wide eyed, their son between them, equal parts amused and mortified, waiting for Thomas to fall back to sleep so that Jax could sneak out of bed and put clothes on. Tara had let a giggle escape when she caught a glimpse of Jax's naked silhouette in the moonlight as he tiptoed to the closet. Jax smiled at the memory.

He made his way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his weary face. Icy droplets slid from his chin to his rock hard chest and washboard abs. He ran his wet hands through his short, sandy blonde hair, then shook out the excess water, letting out an invigorated sigh as he did so. His short hair was much easier to manage than the long locks he'd kept for so many years, but sometimes he missed his long hair. Sometimes he missed a lot of things. But that was another life. He was a different person now.

He grabbed one of the dozen or so white t-shirts he kept in his top dresser drawer and slipped it on, then grabbed a pair of jeans out of the clothes hamper, shook them out, and put them on. Tara would never approve of him wearing clothes from the dirty laundry pile, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Jax figured if secrets like that were all he was keeping from her these days, he was doing pretty good.

He stumbled sleepily down the hall, still in a fog from his unspeakable nightmare, toward the scent of bacon. He froze when he reached the kitchen. The sight of Tara standing at the sink took his breath away, and not in the "holy shit, my wife is hot" way it usually did. For a split second, Jax was back in his nightmare. There was blood filling the sink, dripping down the walls, pooled on the floor. Tara's blood. Every last drop of it. He leaned into the wall, his knees feeling weak.

"Daddy!" Thomas cooed from his booster seat, chewing on a piece of pancake. Jax smiled. Tara turned around, an amused smirk on her face.

"Well hello there, sleepy head," she teased. God, she's beautiful, Jax thought. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, her t-shirt was splattered with dish water, and there wasn't an ounce of make-up on her porcelain skin. Jax was overcome with emotion. He made his way to her swiftly, enveloping her in his strong arms. "Good morning to you, too," she laughed. Jax breathed in her scent, which was currently that of syrup, bacon, and dish soap. He paid attention to the way her heart beat against his, and reveled in the sound of her breathing. She pulled away just slightly. "You okay?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she studied her husband's face.

"Yeah, babe," Jax assured her. "I'm fine." Tara reached up on her tip-toes, brushed her lips against her husband's, then turned away to tend to her half-washed dishes. Jax was caught off guard. Tara's lips felt like fire on his, as he recalled how cold and lifeless they'd been when he kissed her in his dream. He grabbed her around the waist and spun her back around, kissing her passionately. He wanted so badly to take her right there in the kitchen- to slip her plaid pajama pants down around her ankles, lift her up onto the countertop, and slide himself inside her- to grab her by the hair and fuck away those horrible images from that horrible nightmare. But the giggles and "ewwwws" coming from across the kitchen table as he kissed his wife reminded him that they had an audience. He released Tara, biting his lip to try to keep from kissing her again. She knew what that look meant. And she had a hard time resisting it.

"What has gotten into you this morning?" she asked, still breathless. Jax leaned in close, his lips against her ear.

"I want to make love to my wife," he breathed. He felt the goosebumps come to life on Tara's flesh under his touch. He loved that he still had such an effect on her after all these years.

"Well that's a nice thought," she laughed, trying to resist the look of temptation in her husband's sparkling blue eyes, "but we've got a lot to do today. Ope and Lyla are going to be here soon with…" she stopped herself.

"Our surprise!" Abel finished, throwing his hands in the air. Jax turned to his son and lifted him into his arms, flying him through the air like a tiny, human-shaped airplane.

"Our surprise? How come it's your birthday and I'm getting a surprise?" he asked, setting Abel back down in his seat. Abel shrugged his shoulders and went back to his birthday breakfast- a plate piled high with bacon. The kid would eat his weight in bacon if they let him. "Thomas, do you know what the surprise is?" Jax asked his youngest son, whose cheeks were sticky with syrup. The toddler shook his head emphatically, a huge grin on his face. Jax turned to his wife. "Babe?"

"Like I've been telling the birthday boy all week, you'll just have to be patient," she scolded. "Thomas, are you done eating?" He nodded. She threw the dish towel she was holding over her shoulder and released Thomas from the confines of his booster seat, hoisting him into her arms. "Let's go get you cleaned up," she said, planting a kiss on top of his head.

"I'm done too, Mom!" Abel announced, jumping down from the table.

"Okay, Mr. Five-Year-Old, let's go get you cleaned up, too." Jax watched as his family disappeared down the hall, his heart feeling as though it might burst. Not a day went by that Jax wasn't thankful for the life and the family and the second chance that God had given him, but on this day, his oldest son's fifth birthday, he was more sure than ever that leaving SAMCRO was the best decision he ever made.

Jax was finishing up washing the last of the breakfast dishes when he heard a car pull in the driveway. He wondered if there would ever come a time that he wouldn't feel uneasy at the sound of approaching visitors. For so many years, his home was frequented by police officers looking to arrest him and enemies looking to harm him and his family- he was finding constant apprehension to be one of his hardest habits to break.

Out of habit, he reached his hand into the back of his jeans, where he kept his gun for so long. But it wasn't there. It was in his bedroom, in a locked box on the top shelf of his closet, where it had been for the past three years. (Save for the times Jax took it out to clean and inspect it.) He couldn't remember the last time he'd fired it. Abel came running down the hall, Tara following closely behind him with Thomas in her arms.

"They're here! They're here!" Abel exclaimed as Thomas clapped his chubby little hands in excitement. Tara caught Jax's worried gaze. She pretended not to notice his strained expression, just like she always did when he was unnecessarily concerned. She knew how much he still struggled with his demons. She motioned for him to follow her and the boys, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Well come on, Mr. Teller," she teased. "Your surprise is here."

"Right behind you, Mrs. Teller," he answered, following her and the boys out the front door. He breathed easy when he recognized the black Lincoln Navigator in the driveway.

"Uncle Opie!" Abel yelled, running toward Jax's best friend. Most children went running in the opposite direction from bearded giants covered in tattoos, but Abel Teller wasn't most children. And his family was comprised of a number of questionable characters, including the blonde-haired porn star turned soccer mom he knew as Aunt Lyla.

Jax sauntered toward his friend's truck, high fiving each of the Winston kids as they hopped out of the back seat and headed into the house. They were big fans of the boys' massively overstocked playroom. He gave Lyla a quick squeeze and then grabbed Opie in a huge bear hug, kissing him on his coarse, bearded cheek.

"Thanks for coming, brotha," he said, trying to shake the image of Opie's brains being bashed in with a lead pipe from his mind. He would definitely have to discuss this dream with his therapist if he was ever going to get past it. When he released Opie from his tight grip, he realized that Opie, Tara, and Lyla were all staring at him with the same confused expression.

"Don't mind him, he's a little off today," Tara explained. "I think he's feeling sentimental about Abel turning the big f-i-v-e." She rubbed her husband's back comfortingly. Jax smiled and nodded, thankful for the explanation, even if it was wrong.

"Oh, I don't mind," Lyla crooned. "I haven't given Ope a blow job yet today, you're welcome to it if you'd like, Jax." Tara covered Thomas' ears, albeit way too late, and shot Lyla a dirty look. Jax laughed. You could take the girl out of porn, but you couldn't take the porn out of the girl. Lyla ignored Tara's glare and reached for Thomas. "There's my big boy! Come see me!" Thomas all but lunged into Lyla's arms. He was completely infatuated with her. Most little boys were. Hell, so were most big boys.

"Happy Birthday, my main man," Opie said, scooping Abel into his arms. "Papa Winston told me to tell you he's sorry he couldn't make it. He had business is Vegas this weekend."

"Business, eh? Is that what Piney's calling it now?" Jax chuckled. Opie shook his head apologetically.

"Oh, and Abel," Opie added, "he said he'd give you a hundred bucks next time he sees you."

"Hell yeah," Jax said. "Now we're talkin'. Now where's this big surprise?" He tried to peer past Opie into the truck, thinking his surprise would be wrapped in a shiny package with a neat little bow like one of Abel's birthday gifts. He didn't notice when a young girl appeared from behind the truck.

"Well Jesus, Jackson, what does a girl gotta do to get a little help around here?" He knew the thick Irish accent instantly.

"Trinity?!" He was shocked. "Hooooly shit!" His sister dropped her bags and ran to him, giving him a long hug. They talked all the time, she even video chatted with the boys, but it had been nearly five years since they'd seen each other in person. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to work on my tan," she said, turning one very pale Irish arm over in the sunlight. "I came to see my nephews, what do ya think?" She pressed her hands to her heart as she approached Abel, in disbelief over how much he'd grown. "Can I give you a hug?" she asked. He nodded timidly. She squeezed his little body tightly, letting her arm linger around his waist. "Gee. Last time I saw ye you were just a wee baby," she told him, the Belfast oozing from every syllable she spoke.

"Surprised?" Tara asked, wrapping an arm around Jax's waist. Jax shook his head, in total disbelief. Trinity turned to Thomas, who was clinging tightly to Lyla.

"Hi, Thomas," she said softly. "I'm your Aunt Trinity." Thomas buried his face in Lyla's mess of hair.

"He's shy," Jax explained apologetically.

"No worries," Trinity answered. "I've got all the time in the world."

"How much time, exactly?" Jax asked, suddenly very curious about the particulars of Trinity's trip.

"Not sure yet. Kerrianne came to spend some time with her da, and I decided to join her. Our stay is kind of open ended at this point."

"Did Chibs know you guys were coming?" he asked, wondering how his dear friend and his daughter were getting along.

"Oh, honey, everybody knew 'cept you and Abel," Lyla informed him. Jax reached up to stroke his almost non-existent beard, something he still did when he was at a loss for words, even though it had been nearly a year since he'd shaved off the bulk of his facial hair. Instead of the full beard he'd sported for so long, he grabbed a handful of stubble.

"Sorry, babe, but your little sister wanted to surprise you," Tara explained, patting Jax's shoulder. "Now come on, we've got a birthday party to get ready for. The rest of the family will be here soon." Tara led the charge into the house as Jax helped Trinity with her bags.

"This day just keeps gettin' better," he mumbled, biting his lip to fight back a smile.

"You think he'll show?" Opie asked as he attached another balloon to the helium tank. He and Jax had been tasked with blowing up the thousand blue balloons Tara had purchased for the party while the girls prepared food for the cookout in the kitchen.

"I don't know, man," Jax said, taking a long drag from the cigarette pinched between his knuckles. "Gemma's coming, so probably not, but you never know with Clay." If it was up to Jax, he wouldn't have invited his step-father at all, as their relationship had been strained ever since Jax made the decision to leave SAMCRO. But Abel had insisted on inviting the only grandfather he'd ever known to his fifth birthday party, and Jax didn't want to disappoint him.

"Think him and Gemma will be able to play nice if he does?" Opie started laughing as soon as the question was out of his mouth. The King and Queen of Charming were known for many things, but being nice wasn't one of them. Jax hoped, for Abel's sake, they would find a way.

Jax knew there would be repercussions when he separated from the motorcycle club it had been his birth right to someday inherit, but he never expected the breakdown of Clay and Gemma's marriage to be one of them. During his fourteen month stint at Stockton Prison for a bullshit arms charge that he blamed solely on his step-father, he had a lot of time to think. And during those long, sleepless nights on that concrete slab of a cot the good state of California provided him, his thoughts always turned to one thing- Tara. Tara and Abel and Thomas, the family he'd been blessed with even though he didn't deserve it. The family he needed to do better for.

All his life, the MC had been his family, and in a sense, they always would be. But he had a new family now, one that he was solely responsible for. It was his duty to support them, to protect them. And as he spent day after day in a filthy cell block with murderers and rapists while Abel grew from a baby into a boy, while Tara spent her nights alone in a bed that was too big for one person, and while Thomas was born and finding his way through his first year in this world without a father, Jax could no longer escape the harsh reality that he had to choose between his new family and his old one. The two men that he was- a family man and a gang member- could no longer coexist.

Seeing his boys and the woman he hoped to make his wife for the first time in over a year upon his release from prison only solidified his resolve to leave the MC. So when he proposed to Tara that morning with the ring his mother had picked out for him while he was still on the inside, he promised her the one thing she'd always wanted- a life free of SAMCRO. He told her that he had to tie up some loose ends, but by week's end he would tell Clay and Gemma of his decision- and then they would take the boys and leave Charming for good, regardless of what anyone had to say about it. Jax didn't answer to anyone anymore- not Clay, not Gemma, not the club. This was his life, and he would no longer sacrifice his happiness or the happiness of the three people who meant the most to him in order to maintain loyalty to a life he'd never chosen in the first place. He was born into SAMCRO, but he would be damned if he would die by its' hands.

He failed to tell Tara that the "loose ends" that needed tying up involved exacting revenge against the Russians who'd tried to have him killed in prison. In the shadows at Opie and Lyla's wedding reception that night, as he methodically stabbed to death the man who'd attempted to have the same done to him at Stockton, he vowed to himself that it would be his last kill. He would never again watch the light leave another man's eyes, or listen to someone take their last breath. As he pulled the knife from between the Russian pig's ribs the third and final time, he locked eyes with Clay.

"This is it," he breathed as blood pooled at his feet. "I'm done." Clay's face hardened.

"What the hell you mean you're done?" He took a threatening step toward Jax, but Jax didn't back down.

"I mean I'm done. No more." He slid off his kutte, careful to only handle it with the gloved hand that wasn't covered in the Russian's blood, and pushed it toward Clay. "I'm out."

"Like hell you are," Clay growled, tossing the kutte to Tig. "That ain't how this works. You know that." Jax planted his feet and balled his fists, one hand still wrapped around the knife he'd just used to kill the Russian.

"Well it's how this works for me," he said, thrusting the knife toward Clay. "This club has always been my family, but I have a new family now. Tara and the boys are my priority, and I've got to do what's best for them. So I'm done. I'm out of SAMCRO one way or another, old man. You either vote me out, or you kill me, right here, right now. And then my blood will be on your hands, and everyone will know it- Gemma, the club, your grandchildren."

Clay tried to hide his shock. The fact that he didn't see this coming was a testament to how thick his blinders were. This had been brewing since long before Stockton. Clay was the only one who'd been completely oblivious to it. He turned the knife over in his hand, contemplating his options. There was a part of him that wanted to plunge the dirty knife right into Jax's heart for his disrespect and betrayal. But he knew that wasn't a viable choice. He could feel the other club members behind him, ready to pounce on him if he made a move toward Jax. They would never forgive him. Gemma would never forgive him. Either way, his son was lost to him. He just had to choose whether he would allow the loss to stop there, or if he was going to add his marriage and the respect of his club to the list. He gritted his teeth. He didn't like being backed into a corner, but he had to admire the kid, in a way. Jax was smart, and for good reason. He'd been raised by a goddamn king.

"Fine," Clay snarled, hurling the knife to the ground. It stuck in the thick clay, just inches from the dead Russian's head. "You're out. But you better get to TM first thing in the morning and get your shit. I don't want to see it, or you, ever again. You're dead to me." He bumped Jax's shoulder with his own as he passed him, motioning for the rest of the club to follow. The guys passed Jax one by one, no one saying a word, but each locking eyes with him for a brief moment with expressions ranging from surprise to betrayal to respect to relief that Clay hadn't killed him where he stood.

Jax clenched his jaw, fighting back tears as he stood alone in the dark with the dead Russians. He knew he'd done the right thing, but that didn't mean it was easy. These were his brothers, and he'd turned on them. He didn't know if they would ever forgive him. But the piece of his own heart he'd just broken by betraying Clay and the club was a necessary evil. Tara and the boys were worth the sacrifice. He just had to remember that. He turned back toward the wedding reception, glad that Tara had left early to get home to the boys. He could see the lights and hear the music and the laughter, but it all felt so far away. That was no longer his family. He was no longer welcome there. He would have to talk to Opie and Gemma about his decision to leave SAMCRO another time, if someone else didn't tell them first.

He removed his blood-soaked gloves, scuffed the blood from the bottom of his shoes in the dirt, and started the long walk to the entrance of the reservation. Last he knew, there was still a police presence at the gate. Maybe he'd pop one of those assholes in the mouth and earn himself a free ride home, just to save on cab fare.

Gemma responded to the news that Jax was leaving SAMCRO exactly the way he expected her to- by showing up at his house in the middle of the night, yelling and banging on the door, sleeping babies be damned. She had a key, but what fun would letting herself in quietly to have a rational discussion with her son about his future have been?

Jax could still feel the sting on his face from where she'd slapped him, accusing him of being an ungrateful son of a bitch, when there was another knock on his door late the following morning. He got up from the kitchen table, where he'd been sitting since his mother left his house in tears hours earlier. He took his time making his way to the front door, stopping at the sink to dump out the ice cold cup of coffee he'd been staring at for hours without even taking a sip of. After fighting with Clay and his mother so badly the night before, he wasn't sure he was up for another round just yet.

Tara and the boys were out running errands, as Tara wanted to get her family out of Charming and away from SAMCRO as quickly as possible, before something happened to suck them back in. Seeing his wife-to-be so happy, so excited about the prospect of their future together for the first time since they'd rekindled their romance, made every single slap in the face, both literal and figurative, worth it to Jax.

He took a deep breath as he opened the door, praying it wasn't Gemma again. He was pretty sure, judging by the fact that the knocks weren't shaking the entire house, that it wasn't. He placed his free hand tentatively on the gun tucked into the back of his jeans, ready to greet his unwelcome visitor however he needed to.

"Ope," he said, letting out a sigh of relief. His best friend pushed past him into the house, not waiting for an invitation. Jax followed him into the kitchen. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon?"

"Honeymoon's over, brother," Opie informed him, his voice somber. He knew.

"Who told you?" Jax asked.

"Clay called an emergency meeting at my goddamn wedding reception after you broke the news to him," Opie explained.

"Jesus Christ," Jax moaned, resting his head in his hands as he sat across the kitchen table from Opie. "I'm sorry, man. I never meant to ruin your night."

"Yeah, well, that's the nature of the beast, right? I'm just glad one of the dead bodies piled up in the woods during my wedding reception wasn't yours." Jax let out a relieved chuckle. Opie cracked a slight smile. "Why the hell didn't you tell me, man?" Opie asked.

"I'm sorry, bro," Jax responded. "I was gonna tell you. I didn't intend for shit to go down the way it did last night, it just sort of happened. The last thing I wanted was to ruin your wedding, so I figured I'd wait until you got back from your honeymoon to talk to you."

"Well. I'm back. Talk to me."

"I gotta take care of my family, Ope. It's as simple as that." Opie let out a long, exasperated sigh. If anyone knew how completely this life could destroy a family, it was him. He'd done five years inside when his kids were little because of the club. He'd lost his wife, the mother of his children- not just because of the club, but at the hands of the club. Jax wasn't sure if those things would help Opie understand where he was coming from, or make him resent Jax that much more for getting out, considering that he stayed even after everything he'd been through.

"So how do we do this?" Opie asked. Jax looked up at him, confused.

"We?"

"Yeah. We." Opie took a deep breath. "Lyla and I were talking last night when we got back to the hotel after the reception. She could tell something was bothering me, so I told her about you turning on SAMCRO. I was pissed, you know, and I wanted her to be pissed, too. But she wasn't. She said that if you were getting out, I should take advantage of the opportunity and follow your lead. She doesn't want this life, Jax. It was okay when we were just dating, but we're married now. We've got three kids and are going to try to have a baby. And she told me that if I left SAMCRO, she'd quit doing porn." Lyla's questionable career choice had been a source of constant conflict between her and Opie. He wanted nothing more than for her to stop having sex with other men and women on camera for money.

"Are you serious?" Jax asked.

"Yeah, man. She wants us to turn over a new leaf together, I guess. A normal life for us and the kids. That was all Donna ever wanted, and I will never forgive myself for not giving it to her. If anything ever happened to Lyla or one of the kids, I…." Opie's words trailed off as he stared out the window, his expression dark. He always looked that way when he thought of Donna.

"Holy shit. We're really gonna do this?" Jax asked, laughing nervously.

"Looks like it," Opie said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Good luck tellin' Piney," Jax teased.

"You just worry about your own old man. Let me worry about mine," Opie shot back.

Jax and Opie had been raised together in the MC. They'd patched in together and been poised to someday take over together. It only made sense, Jax supposed, that they would abandon their legacy together.

Within a month's time, Jax, Tara and the boys were headed to a small town in Oregon just on the other side of the California state line, where Tara had been offered a job at the local hospital. Opie and Lyla, who had far fewer loose ends to tie up, were already there, setting up the small auto repair shop Jax and Opie had purchased together.

Before leaving Charming, Jax made amends with most of his SAMCRO brothers. Piney was surprisingly supportive of the boys' decision to leave the club, and encouraged the rest of the members to accept their decision and forgive them for it. He knew the MC had become something much different over the years than what the First 9 intended for it to be. He'd likely have made the same choice for his family if things had been this bad back then. But Clay would never understand, and he would never forgive either Jax or Opie. He banned them from Charming- a needless act as neither of them had any intention of ever returning, and forbade Gemma from having any contact with Jax.

And that's how the Morrows' marriage imploded. As furious as Gemma was with her son, he was still her son, and he was the one thing she loved more than the MC. She would not turn her back on him, ever. But Clay insisted that she choose- him or Jax, not expecting her to choose the way she did. After all, the last time she'd been faced with the choice between him and a Teller, Clay had come out victorious. Clay and Gemma still hadn't divorced, but they'd both moved on. Gemma moved into Jax and Tara's old house in Charming, and Clay didn't waste any time bringing a hungry crow eater into his bed. Jax felt incredibly guilty that his mother had been forced to sacrifice her marriage for his happiness, but collateral damage was unavoidable in the life she'd raised him in. She knew that all too well.