The Life of Nikki Winston

Emma

I woke in the middle of the night, screaming and fighting away from the comforter that was wrapped around me. Once I was free, I rolled onto my hands and knees on the floor and breathed deeply, pressing my face against the cold of the wooden floor. After I was sure I had my heart rate back under control, I left my bedroom in search of Jax. He wasn't where I'd last seen him on my couch, so I followed the sound of thumping and found him sewing his VP patch back on his kutte at my kitchen table. I watched him for a moment from the threshold of the door before I said anything. "Jax," I called his attention, "thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?"

"For understanding why I couldn't tell you."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Nikki." I sighed, knowing he was blaming himself for something that wasn't his fault irked me. I pulled out the seat beside him and stilled his hands, forcing him to look me in the eye.

"Jax, what happened to me and Gemma was not your fault. It was Zobelle's and Weston's. They chose to do that to us. You would have never risked us and I know that. Gemma knows that. We didn't tell you because that was our choice. The only ones who knew were Tara, Wayne, and Hale."

"Hale knew and didn't tell me?" He was seething already, tensing up like he was ready for a hunt.

"Hale knew because he forced it out of Unser. Gemma told him that if he breathed a word of it to anyone else she'd cut out his and Unser's hearts. Jax," I could see I was losing him to his anger, switched my grip to his face to keep him focused on me. "Jax, look at me. Yes, what they did was awful, and I want them punished for it, but listen to me. Gemma and I are okay. We're getting over it in our own ways. I know you guys are gonna go after Zobelle, but I want you to do something for me."

"Anything, Nikki."

"Zobelle ordered it, we know that much. But Weston and his guys are the ones that attacked us. I want Weston dead. And I want proof of it."

"You want his tat? Nikki, if someone goes snooping and finds that on you-"

"Jax, I don't want his tat. I just want some hair. I want to burn it myself. It'll give me closure to be able to burn just a part of him." I felt the chill of true malice in my voice, but I knew this was something I needed.

"Nik, are you sure you can handle this?"

"Jax, I would go with you and kill him myself if I could. But I can't right now. What I can do is have faith that you and the club will do right by us. I know you will, and I trust that you will. Now, do you want help with your kutte or do you want to continue to mangle it?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to have worked, if only slightly. At least he cracked a small smile.

"I'm not mangling it." He argued.

"Jax, you have extra thread hanging loose from both sides. You want to hand it over, or do you want it to look like crap when the guys realize you're staying with us?"

"Fine, you do it." He sighed, passing over the kutte, needle and thread.

"Thank you. This just looks awful, Jax. I know you know how to sew better than this." I poked fun at him, trying to figure out for sure if we were going to be okay.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and fix it, then." I stuck my tongue out at him as I ripped the patches off again and pulled all the torn and knotted thread out of the way, much to Jax's vocal annoyance. Sure that nothing was left of Jax's mess, I thread the needle and set to work sewing the patch back where it belonged. "Nik?"

"Yeah Jax?"

"What are you doing up so late?" I spared him a glance, saw the worry in his eyes and decided to tell him the truth.