Keyes had set himself up to fail. He was living a dangerous life that had him straddling two worlds. One where he belonged, body and soul, and another where, no matter what he did, he would never fit in.
Alec’s father was a high-ranking American politician.
Keyes’s father was no-good trash, a sorry son of a bitch.
Alec worked for the Dallas district attorney who had a hard-on for bringing Keyes’s motorcycle club to their knees.
Keyes changed tires for a living.
Alec was the shiny part of life. He was goodness and kindness. Everything Keyes wasn’t.
Keyes had watched his mother overdose and die when he was a young boy. Alec had vacationed in the Hamptons—wherever the fuck that was.
They came from two different worlds.
Fuck. Keyes’s eyes closed as the illusion that they’d somehow found their balance began to shatter. The pain in his chest grew, hurting on a level he couldn’t quite absorb, and that said a lot since his parents had really done a number on him as a kid.
He had seen enough about the world to know words like I love you were a conditional misconception, something said by people who didn’t understand what life was about. Keyes was never going to be good enough for Alec’s world, and at some point, Alec would get tired of isolating himself inside this house. Keyes couldn’t even imagine a time they could ever go out in public together. If for some unseen reason that time came, what the fuck would they do?
If the situation wasn’t so damned dire, he’d laugh at the mental image of Alec at a club barbecue. Club whores hanging out with Alec Pierce… What a fucking joke. His brothers would never understand whatever this was between him and the attorney.
Resentment and anger slithered up his spine and coiled around his heart. Fuck if he wasn’t so much more comfortable with those emotions.
Nothing had changed between them. They were a good time, nothing more. Fuck his heart’s vehement denial. Where his heart and his head completely agreed was that there was no way a good guy like Alec would continue to love him if he ever found out the truth of everything Keyes had done in his life. Hell, he’d been on a drug run less than a week ago. Alec wouldn’t understand why he did the things he had.
No matter what happened right now, their end didn’t change. They didn’t fit no matter how much he wished they did. White hot pain lanced through the useless organ in his chest. It hurt so fucking bad to think of Alec leaving him.
“Babe, your heart’s pounding,” Alec murmured, laying a warm hand dead center on his chest. Whatever Alec felt caused him to lift his head and open his eyes wider. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
This was too much. How could he have let hope, of all things, cloud his reality? Hope and fairytales went hand in hand, both big fucking wastes of mind-space. He wanted to cry, which pissed him off even more. Thank God for the burst of anger, because now the bullshit pain wasn’t the only thing driving him. Keyes bucked his body out from underneath Alec’s and flipped the covers off, sending his phone flying. He literally jumped out of bed, making a beeline for his jeans draped over the bedroom chair. He shoved his feet in the legs of his jeans, forgoing his underwear. He needed out of this house. He couldn’t fucking breathe. He needed to be back in his world, back to what he knew, and never venture out again.
Luckily, Alec had removed his jeans in such a way that his keys, wallet, and belt were still in place. Keyes shoved his dick inside and zipped himself up as the memory of the unspoken need darkening Alec’s eyes when he’d arrived sent his rage skyrocketing. He didn’t get the jeans much more than zipped when he dropped down in the chair and started to shove his sockless feet inside his dirty work boots.
“What’s happened, Key?” Alec asked, his tone even but on the controlled edge of panic. Keyes looked up to catch Alec pulling on his athletic shorts which spoke volumes to the gravity of the situation. Alec rarely wore clothes around him.
Letting his anger fuel him, Keyes pushed to his feet, leaving the boots untied as he left the room, gathering his hair to tie in a knot at the base of his head. The fucking hair band he always kept at his wrist wasn’t there.
“Goddammit!” he yelled as he jerked his T-shirt off the kitchen stool and pulled it over his head while leaving the house. He never broke stride as he bent to sweep up his hair tie off the back porch where it had fallen last night and stalked toward his motorcycle.