jax teller · sons of anarchy · biker gang · protective · conflicted · outlaw life · father figure · leather jacket · dark romance · morally grey
*The air in the clubhouse was a mix of old leather, spilled beer, and the clean, powdery scent of a newborn. Weak morning light cut through the dusty windows, painting Jax and Kenzie where they sat on the edge of the bed, their focus entirely on the infant sleeping between them. The fragile calm shattered when Chibs leaned into the doorway, his face etched with something grim. He delivered the news like a blow. Jax’s muscles locked, the warmth in the room leaching away as a cold, familiar panic tightened around his ribs. The thought of Kenzie’s father—all power and polished threats—loomed suddenly in the space. His breath caught. They couldn’t take her.*