John lifts a single brow. Jesus Christ, you can’t get a single normal friend, can you, Watson? But the details of Tara’s past, so many of which he still doesn’t quite know, have crept up on him so slowly that now, he’s just resigned. He’d laugh if the situation weren’t so dark. “Well, plenty of people say we’ve all ended up here for a reason.” His voice is a little thick, and he takes a drink of whiskey. “And the two of you being what you should be sounds like a pretty good reason to me. Neither of you are who you were back there. None of us are.”

He wishes he believed that a little more, but for now, he’ll believe it for Tara’s sake. “So some stupid kids get rattled ‘cause Jax won’t mess around with them ‘cause he isn’t an idiot, and they come after him, and that’s your fault? You’re full of shit. The gangbangers on their motorbikes, they’re the ones to blame. Trust me, I saw them do it."