❛ Who the fuck would send me that shit? ❜

chapter seven.

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        SCARLETT HAD FALLEN asleep soon after Juice left for the meeting. She know he said she could go get a beer or leave for a smoke, but all those options soon left her mind when she started snoring. Surprisingly, the thing that wakes her was the noise of a car roaring as it pulled into the Club.

She shoots up in the driver's seat, nearly smashing her head on the rest behind her as she lets out a yawn. Blinking a few times to adjust her eyes, she's finally able to see the noisy car as it pulls to a stop near the garage. But she never expects to see the person who steps out of it.

Tara Knowles.

Scarlett leans forward slightly, her jaw dropping at the sight of the familiar woman. But her attention is quickly grabbed once more when the Sons begin to walk outside from their meeting. And unsurprisingly, Juice is nowhere to be seen.

Groaning and internally cursing at the man, Scarlett pushes open her door and slips out before slamming it shut behind her as she begins to walk across the yard towards the door. She fights every bone in her body not to look over at Tara, who is now speaking with Half Sack about her car.

Chibs steps in front of Scarlett, head tilting in confusion, "What you still doing here, Letty?"

Trying to ignore Jax's eyes on her from a few metres to her side, Scarlett replies, "I'm picking Juice up to drive him downtown so he can get his bike. Where the hell is he?"

"Your lover boy's at the bar," Jax jabs into the conversation, causing her eyes to glide over to him while he leans against a pillar with his arms folded over his chest.

"You seem quite stuck on him being my lover boy," Scarlett rolls her eyes, "Did me telling you I'm not fucking him earlier not give you enough information?" She swallows anymore childish comments when her eyes land on Tara, who's staring right back at her, "So, she's back in town too. When did she get back?"

Slightly taken back by the gentle tone to her voice, Jax stares at her in astonishment for a moment before peering over his shoulder and following Scarlett's gaze to his Tara, "She's been here a few weeks longer than you," He turns back to Scarlett, "She's a doctor up in St Thomas'."

Scarlett hums, "Course she is," She rolls her shoulders back, attempting to keep her kindness towards him going, "I'm sorry about your kid, by the way."

Jax's brows furrow, "You know 'bout him?"

Scarlett nods, "Camille told me. Is Wendy feeling any better, by the way? Cami said she was struggling with the birth."

"She's fine," He snaps, his previous calm tone being replaced by his usual defensive voices, "Just keep out of my business, Scarlett."

Stepping back, Scarlett raises her hands in a surrender before laughing quietly, "I was just trying to be nice and create a civil conversation between us, Jax," She sighs, noticing as a certain woman begins to make her way over, "Oh. I better go. Your ex-lover girl's coming," She mince as she smirks at him, "Wait. Is she your ex—"

"Jesus christ," Jax shakes his head, attempting to hide his faint smile, "Yeah, yes. She's my ex, Scarlett."

She narrows her eyes, slowly begin to step towards the Club door, "I don't believe you."

He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek in annoyance, "Just go get your lover boy and leave."

She finally spins completely on her heels so her back is to him, "He ain't my lover boy!" She shouts before disappearing inside.

"I don't believe you!" He calls loudly after her, mimicking her words previously, before a small hand on his arm causes him to whip around and face Tara, "Hey, what's up?"

"I was just dropping the cutlass off 'cause it needs some work doing," She points behind her at her car being fiddled with by Half Sack then she looks at him again, biting her lip, "Am I right in thinking that was Scarlett Miller?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jax nods, "You're right."

"Obviously still driving you crazy," She mutters, quickly noticing the annoyance flash over his face and the way he bites down a comment.

He shakes his head, "It's a whole lot different compared to how it used to be."

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         CAMILLE AND SCARLETT had the house to themselves for a few days after, while the Luke and the rest of the Sons were in Nevada doing business with another club. The two women had spent the days like little girls, laughing and giggling together in the double bed before going shopping together the day after. Scarlett had been so happy, that she had partially forgotten that she had been looking for a job previously.

Cami and Scarlett sit on the front porch of the house, looking through old and new mail while also trying their hardest to think of places for Scarlett to work.

"What about. . . if I become a doctor?" Scarlett shrugs, throwing another useless letter onto the wooden boards carelessly, "Think I'm smart enough for that?"

Camille looks at her, eyebrows raised while she tries not to laugh at the idiotic suggestion, "No."

Scarlett rolls her eyes, jerking her leg forward to kick her best friend's shin, "You little shi. . ." Her words fade out when her eyes land on an image she had just slid from a large A4 envelope.

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen when she finally realises what the image is. Resting on her lap, is a photo of Jax Teller having sex with some blonde chick. Scribbled in black marker across the top of the paper, it reads 2:23AM, LAST NIGHT.

A million thoughts are streaming through Scarlett's head while she slowly passes the paper to Camille. She had mostly left their friendship, or whatever it was, behind eight years, so why now was she receiving photos of him sleeping with another girl in the mail, and who the fuck knew where she was staying, because Camille had nothing to do romantically with the blonde man, therefore it could've only been meant for Scarlett.

"Oh my god," Camille gags, quickly flipping the image around and pressing it against her lap while her head shoots up to meet Scarlett's gaze, "Why— what— who— are you okay?"

Raising her hands to pull them down her face, Scarlett squeezes her eyelids shut, trying to erase the image, "Who the fuck would send me that shit?" She stands up, and steps down the last few steps of the porch to pave up and down the front of the house, "How the hell does anyone know I live here?"

Camille bites her lip, "Holy shit, Scar. You have to call Jax, ask him why you've been sent that."

Scarlett glares at her, "Right, yeah. Because he's totally gonna know why I've been sent a real life porn picture of him."

"Well, who else are you gonna ask?" Camille questions, straightening up slightly and turning her body more to follow Scarlett's movements.

"Tara," Scarlett states, suddenly pulling herself to a stop and looking at Camille, "I mean, come on, I wasn't even with him romantically and I've been sent it, but him and her were."

Camille clicks her fingers before pointing at the dark haired woman in agreement, "You're right. Plus, she's still trying to get back with him, maybe this image was to try to stop her," She waves the paper in the air.

"You know where she lives, right?" Scarlett begins up the porch steps and into the house, Camille following after her.

"More or less, I know where her parents used to live and I think it's the same house," Camille digs the truck keys out of her coat pocket before throwing them to Scarlett while relaying the address and then she questions, "You want me to come with?"

Scarlett shakes her head, walking back out of the house and leaning down to retrieve the pornographic image from the floorboards before she jogs down to the drivers side of the truck, "No. I'll like to have a chat with Tara Knowles by myself."

"Okay," Camille leans against the porch frame, watching her best friend climb into the truck, "But, please don't murder her with a fork, or something."

Waving her off, Scarlett shoves the keys into the ignition and starts to pull out of the drive, trying her hardest to ignore the explicit image of her ex closest friend laying on the passenger seat as she begins towards Tara Knowles' home.

         Half an hour later, she's rapping her knuckles on the wooden door before taking a step back as she waits for someone to pull it open. She knows someone is home by the living dim light being on, and the faint footsteps sounding on the floors inside, but it takes a while for the occupant to arrive at the door.

Tara's face falls when her eyes land on Scarlett Miller stood on her front porch with her hands hold together behind her back and a small slightly menacing smile on her face. Tara remembers back to a time when they were teenagers and Scarlett appeared on her doorstep to pick up Jax, and even then she was terrifying.

"Scarlett?" She speaks slowly, eyes flicking behind the woman incase someone else is with her.

"Hey," Scarlett clears her throat, finger tapping on the image behind her back while she tries to think of an appropriate way to bring the topic up, "Did you mind if I come in for a second? I just don't really wanna talk about this on your front porch."

Brows furrowing, Tara nods slowly, and pulls the door back as she steps away to allow Scarlett through into her home.  Once she hears the door click close, Scarlett begins, bringing the image into Tara's view, and she watches as the colour drains from her face.

"You got it too, huh?" Scarlett brows raise, recognising her expression to be the same as her own only thirty minutes previous.

"Yes, but, urm, why. . . why do you have it too?" Tara mutters out, finally dragging her eyes from the sheet and up to Scarlett.

Sensing the uneasy tone in her voice, Scarlett shrugs gently and pulls a weak smile onto her face in an attempt to calm Tara's obvious nerves about her being in her house, "I was hoping you'd know something about it. 'Cause whoever sent this to me, knows where I live. And I haven't been here long enough for more than three people to know."

Tara sighs, lowering herself down to perch on the edge of her sofa while raising her hands to her hair.

Scarlett tilts her head at the woman, noticing how her every movement is full of tension and anxiety, "You know something," She declares, "You gonna share with me, or not?"

"In the city, there was a man who I was in a shitty relationship with, after I broke it off, he began stalking me," Tara begins, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact as much as she can, "I got a restraining order, which is why I came back to Charming, but now I think he's here too."

At her words, Scarlett's jaw drops, "You told anyone yet? You told Jax?"

"No, God no. I've mentioned it to Hale," Tara shrugs, fingers fiddling in her lap.

"What's the dude's name?" Scarlett asks.

"He's called Josh Kohn," Tara reveals, realising now that there is no point keeping any information from Scarlett, "He's an FBI agent."

"Shit. That's— okay," Scarlett takes a deep breath, trying to suppress how much anger she is feeling for Tara, "But how does the fucked know where I live and why did he send that to me? I ain't got nothing to do with him and his perverted shit."

"I have no clue," Tara sighs.

"You gotta tell Jax, Tara," Scarlett advises, "Because if this creep sends either of us another picture or anything weird, I swear to god, I'll do something, and I have only just got home and don't plan on going to prison so soon."

Tara shakes her head at the idea, "I'm sure he's only doing this to get to me. You don't have to worry."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried about him fucking up your life. Sure, I've never liked you much but nothing gives a creepy man the right to ruin your life," Scarlett steps towards the door, pulling it open once more before she looks over her shoulder at the dark haired woman, "Tara, come find me if you ever need anything and don't wanna drag the Club into it, okay?"

Slowly, Tara nods, lips pulling up in between her teeth anxiously while Scarlett steps away from the house and closes the door gently behind her.

Scarlett had dealt with her own handfuls of gross men following her home, catcalling and groping her etc. But stalking was another level of disgusting, and the fact someone working in the literal law was doing such a vile thing, makes her want to punch whoever Josh Kohn is much harder.

. . .

i hate this chapter so it's not at all proof read