Tara stared at him, and she didn't put down the gun, her eyes wide and she couldn't stop the way that her eyes teared up, but she licked her lips, carefully setting down the carrier behind her, shifting so she was holding the gun with two hands. "Give me your gun." She was pointing it at his chest - it was clear she wasn't fucking around, her words odd and almost breathless. "You- you live here? You live-" And it made no sense. "He was with me, in the car, he was in the car, Jax, I was outside, and then I was in here."

She blinked and his question was so strange to her, because it was phrased so oddly, and she shook her head, not even understanding what he'd asked, but she wasn't gong to get distracted. "The gun. Give me your gun." She shifted, holding out one hand for it, the gun still pointed at him, and she was careful to stay between him and Thomas. That fear - it hadn't gone away, it'd only gotten worse.