John takes a long drink of whiskey before he speaks. “So, let me know if I’ve got this right. You think that if he hadn’t listened to you, if he’d kept doing favors for Locos Lobos, you think he’d have been less likely to get hurt? You think he would have never gotten hurt if he’d started running with them? Really?” He looks at her, skeptical and a little hard, not because he can’t understand her pain and guilt, but because sometimes you have to tell your friends when they’re being stupid, no matter how low their emotions have sunk.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re both a lot better off without that motorbike club. You’ve just gotta learn to live with that, learn to pin your problems on something else.” His voice goes gentle at the end, more gentle than the words might imply. “They didn’t kill him. Jax is alive, and he’s gonna stay alive ‘cause he’s gonna stay away from those guys. And if he does ever need backup,” he rolls his shoulders a bit, “Jax has always got backup."