"I know, I know," Jax smoothed at Tara's short hair. He had to pull himself together, make it look easy and livable and not let on just how fucked up and scared he'd been. Tara didn't need to know how he'd crouched by Abel's crib, surrounded by cans of chemical spray and with his gun at the ready. He had to be strong for them.

"You get used to it, all that fucked up shit." Which was fucked up in and of itself. "Doesn't get any less weird but you figure out how to deal with it."

Carefully, he steered her into the kitchen and started dumping grounds into the coffee maker and readying a new pot. Coffee, bottles and baby cereal. Those were the simple, immediate realities that kept him centered and breathing, even through the madness.

"I promise that we are gonna be okay."