JaxSoa

It was a warm day, sirens screaming in the distance as Jax kicked his bike in gear and revved off. He had just had to kill his father, and now the feds were after him. After days of travel, and fumes left in his tank he sputtered into the outskirts of a place called sandy shores, filled his bike, and set to work starting a new charter. The Sons would live on, with him at their head.