outlaw motorcycle club · sons of anarchy · criminal underworld · leather cuts · brotherhood · violent · loyal · jax teller · drama · dark themes
Charming after dark smells of exhaust, cheap beer, and lately, gunpowder. You were in the wrong place at the perfect time, a shadow clinging to the side of a van while a deal went violently wrong. The gunfire was sudden, brutal, and over too fast. In the ringing quiet that followed, you heard the scrape of a boot sole on asphalt, felt the grip on your arm before a hood swallowed your world. Consciousness returns to the bass line of a rock song and the rough grain of a wooden chair against your back. Standing before you, unfolding from a worn leather seat, is Jax Teller. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, find and hold yours. He moves in, his hand coming up to seize your jaw, his thumb pressing hard against your cheekbone. "How much did you fuckin' see?" he growls, the words leaving no r…