Samcro Jax Teller Novels & Stories

she says. “I’d like to think so,” I say, and it’s my turn to feel my throat tighten with emotion. “There’s also Royal’s Whiskey. I have my own distillery that makes it. It does very well. There’s Jessica’s Jewels,” I say watching Samara smile. “Because my mother loved her jewelry.” “Yes. And then there’s Samara’s Medical Center for Children, because a little tomboy of a girl who didn’t have her wolf was always injuring herself and needing medical attention when she chased after her brother and his best friend,” I say, leaving Sawyer out of it.

Then it was time to check out everything I had bought for Blue. Samantha took charge, so excited, pushing everything to the assistant. The bill was already outrageous and I kept on stealing glances at Hendrix to try and decipher how he felt but his face was blank. He did not seem angry but not happy either. “They sell baby products here?” He suddenly questioned, knocking the last breath I had away. “They do sir, they sell everything here.” Samantha answered cheerfully as if proud of herself while I was hanging by a thread, waiting for it to snap.

I shuddered. “Let’s figure out what ‘partially granted’ means before we start turning down job offers from the murder mainframe,” Jax said. He rubbed at the back of his healing arm, face tight. “You’re the hacker,” he added to himself, more than to anyone. “Act like it.” He moved toward the nearest console, eyes skipping over labels and readouts. I followed slower. Up close, the chaos of the room resolved a little. Panels were labeled—not in big, friendly UI fonts, but in small, utilitarian text etched into the metal:

Come meet Jackson, Cindy said he is massive. “Sam is saying he got his wolf. Let’s go.” I say to Jacob and Alex who are as confused as me.

"Don't contact me again." "Pleasure doing business," Jax smirked, slipping the bag into his coat pocket. He practically jogged back to his car, eager to get the sample to the private laboratory Mr. Cole had pre-approved. Once inside the safety of his sedan, Jax pulled the bag out to inspect it. He froze. His blood ran entirely cold. Taped neatly to the side of the crushed juice box was a small, perfectly cut square of white cardstock. Written on it, in flawless, almost robotic calligraphy, were five words.

Elijah narrowed his eyes, hiding the unease, "And you're?" Ezekiel slid an open leather wallet on the counter. An official-looking badge and identification card were gleaming inside, completely forged, yet flawless. "Samuel Hale," Ezekiel lied smoothly, "Trade inspector. I've come regarding certain... acquisitions. We need to discuss them privately," The cashier's eyes widened, but Elijah gave a short nod, "Of course. Let's step into my office,"

Jax mumbled, acting all innocent and pretending to read the menu. I already knew what I wanted, so I leaned back in the wooden-backed chair and waited for her to come back. And come back she did, but under the watchful eye of the big fucker behind the counter. “I’ll have the mega mountain breakfast, thank you kindly,” Jaxton ordered. I looked up from my seat as she scribbled that onto an order pad, then flicked her disinterested gaze to meet with mine. “Same, darlin’," I said.

Please answer the question. "That…" The salesperson's eyes darted frantically, and he hummed and hawed for a few seconds before continuing, "That might have been an oversight at the time—just a slight procedural error. That's right! It was an oversight on the previous salesperson's part!" Without waiting for him to continue making up his story, I turned toward Officer Warren and said, "Officer, I'd like to request access to the surveillance footage from the meeting room here three days ago."

“Awesome! Yes dad, I promise no lip and no crying if I get hurt, I promise. Oh man! This is going to be awesome. Come on Danny, let’s do this!” “Hold on son, One more thing.” Sam turns to his dad and huffs out a breath. “Yes, dad?” “You will not tell your mother about this. Do you understand me?” Jaxson turns to look at everyone, he knows that if Alex found out about letting her little Sammy spar with Daniel, he would be in a whole heap of trouble. He doesn’t want his little mate mad at him. “Your secret is safe with me, dad. I promise not to tell mom.”

There wasn't a trace of lupine frailty about her—she looked entirely too healthy for someone who had just been in an "accident." Seeing Trista, Samantha approached with a soft, practiced tone. "Ms. Holmes, how is Attwater's injury?" Trista gave her a single look, remained silent, and turned to walk away. Samantha followed at an unhurried pace, seemingly confident that Trista wouldn't touch her in a public space. She stopped at the counter and nonchalantly purchased two boxes of condoms. As the cashier bagged them, Samantha made sure the rustle of the plastic was loud enough for Trista to hear.