=?=
The fatigue of the day wore on Alec. Although his decision was made, it still weighed heavily on his heart. Putting aside the ethical consideration of what he was about to do, the concern for how Key might react to his digging through his past was enough to almost keep him silent. But this was just too important. Key had to understand why he hadn’t thought twice about putting himself in harm’s way today, because this was all his fault.
Alec walked through the house, watching as Key pretended to ignore Nash nipping at his feet while he went from window to window, lowering the window blinds and pulling the drapes. Key was diligent in his task, but seemed to walk a little slower to let Nash catch up before he moved to the next window. It was sweet gesture, one that would eventually warm Alec’s heart. His strong, mean biker was in fact fluffier than a teddy bear on the inside.
Key was so protective he left nothing to chance. On the long quiet drive home, Alec finally rationalized that Key knew they weren’t in imminent danger. All the worry of their future from this point forward was being channeled into keeping Alec safe. So he didn’t say another word.
He let Key busy himself while he gathered all his files on the Cummings case and dumped them on the kitchen bar counter then went to the refrigerator, pulling out two IPAs—Alec needed the liquid courage—and went for the drawer housing the bottle opener. He downed half the bottle in one long chug. His leg bounced, and he watched Key grab his metal box from the table and come to the kitchen counter, taking a barstool.
“I’ll take Nash out, you stay inside. If somethin’ does go down, you stay inside this house no matter what, lock yourself in an upstairs closet, and call the police.” Key’s words were ridiculous, and he had to know full well Alec would never leave him to defend himself all alone. “We need to get you security—like big security. I was thinkin’ about your old man, he’s gotta have like secret service security. Can you get them?”
The tension weighing heavily in the air lifted, making Alec smile. The relief slowed the nervous energy bouncing his leg as he shook his head. The secret service idea must have given Key hope, because when he said no, his guy’s face crumpled. “I have someone to call for security and tomorrow’s my official last day in the DA’s office. I’m taking the personal days I’ve accumulated, so it should be easy enough to keep the house secure if I’m not leaving much.”
“Tomorrow’s your birthday too. I don’t have a present for you. I was gonna do that today,” Key confessed, and the same anger from when Key stepped out and spotted Alec in the detention facility’s waiting room was back on Key’s face.
“You staying safe and us working through this together is more than enough.”
“No, it’s not.” Key’s brows slid together as he shook his head. He lifted the large metal ammunition style box and put it right on top of Alec’s files. “I’m recoverin’ financially at the tire shop, but not enough to compensate for all the hours I’m gone to come here and all the staff I’ve had to hire to make up for me bein’ gone. I’ve done some side work and saved. I was gonna get you a gift with this money. Now, I’m just givin’ it to you.”
So, money was in that box. Key reached across the counter to grab the beer bottle. “I’m pretty sure I’d’ve been shit at buyin’ you a present anyway. Maybe this is just better.”
“I would love anything you picked out for me,” Alec said, working the intricate locking system on top of the box. He opened the lid to see stacks of hundred-dollar bills. Alec tested the weight with his hands. The box that Key so easily lifted was actually heavy and stuffed full of cash.
“How much is here?” he asked, fingering down several stacks, seeing nothing but hundred-dollar bills.
“Stopped countin’ at one fifty,” Key answered nonchalantly and tipped the bottle back to take a drink as his gaze stayed fixed on Alec.
“A hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” Alec asked, questioning the number. Key’s hard-earned cash was sitting unprotected in a small safe on the back of his uncle’s property? Anyone could have stolen this from him. “Is this from Tires?”
Key’s jaw clenched, and he sat back on the stool, tightly crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t going to answer, which was all the answer Alec needed.
“Key, it’s all right. You don’t have to say anything. What do you want me to do with this?” Alec said, shutting the lid and moving the box off his files.
“I want you to pay the attorney then I want you to use the rest to build that house you’re workin’ on because this place isn’t right for you. It’s too big and you need something homey that’s comfortable like you are. When I go to jail, I want you to take my bikes and sell ’em. I’ll make sure Clyde knows to give ’em to you. They’re worth somethin’. It’ll help pay you back for all this cash you’re gonna be out, and I don’t want you to feel bad about not waitin’ for me.” Key turned the beer bottle up and gulped the contents down. Alec watched his Adam’s apple bob, completely confused by the sudden shift of topics. He’d been instructed to build their home then let Key rot away in prison and date someone else? Did Key truly see him as that kind of a man? He would never do that.