"I'm not," he promises. Jax's arms go tight around her too and they're clinging together like the old story about how humans used to have eight limbs and two faces until the gods split them apart. Tara is, undoubtedly, his other half and he clings to her like it can keep either of them from spiraling off. Like they can shove the broken pieces back together.

This isn't Charming. For the last year and a half, almost two, Jax has told himself that almost every day. This isn't Charming. In Charming, his life was outlined before he was born. In Charming, Jax doesn't really expect a reason for his life not to end under tires or a hail of bullets.

It's the fact of how many people he's taken with him or left behind. Holding her tight, Jax lets Tara cry because he understands what she's grieving.