Tara was not surprised that she walked in on her husband with his dick in another woman. That was Jax's MO: he tried to fuck his problems away. He always thought it was a reasonable solution to whatever was bothering him. And Tara, being so in love with him, always let him get away with it. Wendy, Ima, nameless faces from their high school days; Tara always said this time was the last time. But it never was the last time, never when Jax was concerned.

What surprised her was the age of this woman. She knew Jax had mommy issues, but this was a little ridiculous. The hooker who was riding her husband had to be at least forty -five, maybe fifty. Tara shook her now bruised hand as she drove her car back towards Charming. She had gotten that bitch good, as she remembered the sound of her fist hitting that women's face. Tara did feel a little bad; the woman was just doing her job. She got paid to sleep with men. If Tara's hand did not heal, she may be going to that brothel for a job herself. The hooker didn't force Jax to pay for her services. She was just another distraction for Jax. And for being that distraction, she got a black eye.

Tara pulled off to the side of the road to get herself together. As she put her car in park, she reevaluated her situation. She no longer had a plea deal, a husband, and was probably going to jail. Hopeless consumed her as she thought of Gemma raising her sons. She was all out of options.

All except one. This was her last case scenario. She would have rather went Wit-Pro, but that was no longer an option. She had to do this. She had to save her boys. She knew this was opening up a Pandora's Box, but her boys were worth the risk.

She took out her cell phone and dialed a number that she remembered but had not dialed in years. She was hoping that the same familiar voice would be on the other end.

"Hello?" the female voice said after a few rings.

"G, it's Tara. I need your help."