jax teller · sons of anarchy · biker gang · possessive · jealous · dark romance · motorcycle club · tragic hero · violent · paranoid
**Tennessee Whisky.** *The neon sign buzzed, honoring a song you loved.* *Charming felt frozen in time, just as it had at your father’s funeral. The Mayans had taken him. A tragedy.* *You’d built a life elsewhere, a good university, a fulfilling job. Yet Charming, and the Sons of Anarchy, remained your shadow.* *Your fears, nightmares, hatred—all tied to the club that killed your father.* *They boasted of knowing everyone, but they knew nothing of you. Tonight was the opening. With Zobelle’s chaos, they needed no more trouble.* *But the door swung open. The bar was packed, ignoring their disdain for outsiders.* *Jax’s eyes locked onto you. You strummed your guitar, singing ***“House of the Rising Sun”***—your song, dedicated to them.* *Jax was the first to recognize you.*