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Even his voice grates at my spine. If I stay in this room one second longer, either he or I will join Erik Marquez in death.
“I love you, Dixon. Or, at least, I did. But this is just pathetic. I know you killed my brother, and because I cared for you once, I’m going to walk away rather than murder you where you stand. We’re through, Dixon Green, you lying, back-stabbing motherfucker.” I turn away. It feels wrong to expose my back to him, but he looks too shocked, too broken, to attack me, even though it’d be the smart move. Because, later on, when I get my head on straight, I am going to kill him. As I reach the exit, I turn and yell at him over my shoulder. “But if I see you around, don’t think I won’t kill you. You murdered my brother, and I will get revenge for him.”
I storm out of Reid’s Repairs, the sound of my boots echoing off the grimy concrete as I push through the metal doors into the dimming twilight. A chill hits me; I hadn't noticed how cold it was inside my fury. Now, as I stride toward nowhere in particular, that heat drains away, replaced with an icy fear that solidifies around my heart.
My hands still tremble, but not from the need to inflict harm. They shake with the realization of what I've just done, what I've left behind. Dixon doesn’t call after me; he doesn’t follow. Maybe he knows it's useless, or maybe he's too scared. Or guilty.
Tears threaten to spill over, but I blink them back furiously. Crying is for the weak.
With each step, I replay our last words, our final confrontation. The pain lances through me with each echo. How could Dixon do this to me? To us? I trusted him with everything: my fears, my hopes... my love.
And yet there is a phantom pain where my heart used to beat for him. It's a hollow space now, filled with a venomous cocktail of anger and heartbreak.
I wrap my arms around myself in a futile attempt to stave off the cold.
In one fell swoop, I’ve lost so many people I care about — Dixon, the MC, the ol’ ladies, and everyone else the club has ties to in this city. Hell, I’ve lost Costa Oscura itself.
I feel so alone.
Who do I have? Who can I turn to?
Then a name hits me.
I reach into my pocket and dial a number that’s been automatic to me for as long as I’ve owned a phone. Even before, when I’d have to stand on tiptoes to grab the landline phone.
He answers after the first ring. “Alex? What’s up?”
“Mateo? I need your help. Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.”
Chapter Forty
Dixon
“You OK, Smokey?”
Ghost’s voice is almost tentative, and it’s the most caring I’ve ever heard him sound. If I wasn’t so wrapped up in my head, burning with heartache over losing Alexandra and an all-consuming desire to track down and murder the men responsible for ruining my life — Alexandra’s father and her childhood friend, Mateo — I might answer him.
But I can’t.
Though, if I could, the first thing I might do is not answer his damn question, but ask him one of my own: what the fuck is The Darkest Confession?
“Smokey?”
I blink as Ghost’s hand hits my shoulder. Hits being the more apt word because, though I’m sure he’s attempting to comfort me, he’s so damn inexperienced at it — not to mention the fact that he is literally dripping gore and has half-dried blood caked all over his hands — that it comes across as an awkward punch.
“What, Ghost?”
“Are you OK? Do you want to go after her? There might be a chance to—”
Yes, I want to go after her; I want to hold her by the shoulders; I want to look her in the eyes; I want to convince her to trust me; I want to wake up next to her in bed tomorrow morning, and the next morning, and all the mornings of my life; I want to make her breakfast and watch her pretend to enjoy my terrible cooking; I want to finish a long day with a beer at her bar and stare down anyone who looks at her the wrong way; I want to end the night beside her in bed and wake up next to her; I want to tell her it was her love that saved my life.
I want the throbbing ache in my chest to go away.
I want her.
Instead, I’m left with that other thing that I’m supposed to want: revenge. I’m going to kill her father.
“I don’t want to go after her, Ghost. You know who I want to go after? Rafael Reyes. I want to track that motherfucker down, dig him out of whatever fucking hole he’s hiding in, and then rip his throat out for ruining my life.”
