“No. Fuck no. I loved him, but the truth is, Pri, he had a bad side none of us understood. Like we needed to save him from himself.”
“Us? Who is us?”
“Me and Raf. When Raf was eighteen, he had a girlfriend. We left her at the house and went out to the firing range. We came back and she was sitting on the porch. It was raining and cold. She ran to Raf and wrapped her arms around him and started to cry. Alex was there. And he had pushed himself on her.”
“Oh my God. What did Rafael do?”
“They fought. And it wasn’t good for Raf. He’s not the beast, Alex was, but he was pissed and he fought with all he had.”
“Why do I know that it did not end well?”
“Because it didn’t.” I scrub my jaw, back in the past for a moment. “Raf made me promise to let him fight his own battles. I let it go on too long before I just couldn’t take it. I pulled Alex off of him, but he was bad, really bad, Pri. Twenty stitches, his eyes swollen shut, and a concussion, bad.”
“And Alex?”
“I beat the shit out of him, while Raf’s girlfriend rushed him to the hospital. Dad came home and pulled me off of him—too soon if you want to know the truth.”
“What did your father say?”
“That he’d handle it. And I know he tried. That man loved us. The problem was he was gone too much, and Mom just couldn’t control Alex.”
“The idea of Alex in law enforcement is not a good one,” Pri says, sipping her drink. “I know cops with a personality I could see behaving like Alex when the right people aren’t looking.”
“Yes well, me too, unfortunately. I never thought it was a good idea. Dad thought it was his ticket to being right and good. I thought it would become about power to Alex.”
“Did it?”
“We didn’t work together, but I heard stories. And I damn sure didn’t want him going undercover with the Devils. He was corruptible. I knew that.”
“And you were right,” she says.
“They brought out that part of him that went after Raf’s girlfriend and then beat the shit out of Raf.”
She leans in closer, her hand covering mine where it holds my glass. “Tell me,” she urges softly.
Chapter Thirty-Four
ADRIAN
Tell me.
Pri’s words burn inside me. Simple words that don’t feel simple at all.
I tell myself to just stand here and tell Pri about Alex. I tell myself that words are simple. I’m just telling a story. I refill my glass and then ignore it. I need to stop drinking and stay clear-minded for about ten reasons, one of which is that this is serious business. And she matters too damn much to me for me to haze my way through it. Adrenaline surges and I round the bar and walk to the living room, standing at the window again, thinking about that deadly night when Alex became my enemy.
I’m aware of Pri inching closer and sitting on the table, perhaps exactly where I had been minutes before. Waiting on me, but not pushing. Thunder roars and lightning shoots in three directions across the sky. The lights flicker and turn off, the entire block shrouded in darkness, and Pri’s soft gasp has my attention. I turn and she is on her feet, and even as I reach for her, she falls into my arms. The generator groans to life and the lights turn back on.
“Please tell me that was the storm.”
“It was and is,” I promise, stroking her hair and pulling her around in front of me to the window, showing her the dark city that assures her we’re not alone.
I step behind her, my hand settling on her belly. “We’re the lucky ones with a generator,” I say, kissing her neck. “We’re safe. You’re safe with me, Pri.”
She flattens her hand on my hand on her belly and says, “And you’re safe with me.”
My eyes lower with the punch of her words. I’m safe with her. I can trust her, I know I can—I do, but it’s not about trust. And the truth is that she will understand why I killed Alex. She won’t understand how I handled it after the fact. And that’s the segue to all the shit I had to just “let” happen with Waters.
She squeezes my hand but doesn’t turn around, almost as if she knows I need the shelter of her looking at the city, not at me. It’s as if she is once again saying, you’re safe with me, and that undoes my reserve.
“There was a woman,” I begin, and when I feel her stiffen slightly I add, “Not my woman. Not a woman I even knew. A woman.”
The tension eases from her body, at least for the moment, as I continue. “We were at the clubhouse, and there was a big party. There was always a party. I’m talking massive, though. Bikes everywhere, Devils in from all over the country. A bonfire. Booze. Drugs. And women. Lots of women. There were also tents, tipi style, expensive monster tents that Waters called sex caves. Most of the action was there, outside around the fire and inside the tents. I went inside the clubhouse to take a piss. Alex was already there.”