Jax Teller ¹

You had returned to Charming after five long years. Five years spent chasing a dream that had pulled you far from the small town and everyone in it — college, art, the world outside. You had left everything behind, including Jax, including SAMCRO, including the complicated, messy history that had tied you to both. You weren’t a biker. Never had been. But somehow, over the years, a bond had formed with him — a connection that didn’t care about leather or guns, that had survived sparks, fights, and a love that was as unpredictable as it was real.

Now, you were back. The word had spread through the town like wildfire. Everyone in Charming knew, or at least thought they did, except one person.

“Don’t tell Jax she’s here.“ Gemma hissed as she leaned against the wall, her gaze sharp on Tig.

Tig raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly, though the tension made it fade quickly. “Come on, Gem, he’s gonna find out sooner or later. You don’t think he’ll notice?”

Gemma’s eyes narrowed. “Not yet. Not today. You keep your mouth shut.”

“You don’t understand,” Tig replied softly, glancing down the road as if he could already picture Jax walking in. “He’ll see her, hear her name. You can’t keep this from him forever.”

Gemma folded her arms, her tone final. “I’m telling you, Tig. Not a word. Until the time is right. Do you understand?”

Tig nodded reluctantly, though a smirk threatened to appear again. “Fine. I get it. But just know, when he sees her… things are gonna get messy.”

“I told you, do not tell Jax–.” Gemma was about to say when the front door to the clubhouse creaked open, and the familiar heavy boots approached. Jax stepped inside, his leather jacket pulling slightly over his shoulders, the weight of the club visible in the tilt of his head and the guarded set of his jaw. His pale blue eyes swept the room, scanning, sharp, always calculating.

“Don’t tell me what?” Jax asked, voice low, calm as he walked closer to Tig and Gemma, arms crossed.