Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dixon
The weight of the revelation dissipates the second I see the look on Alexandra’s face. Nothing matters except comforting her. I put an arm around her and pull her to my chest. She’s shaking, and tears soak through my shirt. Gently, I lead her away from the crowd and back to her car. The party, my brothers, the fire crew — it all can wait.
Over my shoulder, I meet eyes with Ghost.
“Find out everything you can about that man. Call me as soon as you have a location.”
I get Alexandra to her car, and she hands over the keys. The doors slam shut once we enter, cutting off all sounds but her shuddering breaths.
“What happened back there?”
She breathes in. Hesitates, releases it with a shaky sigh.
“I’ve seen him before. That man.”
The way her voice trembles, my fists clench into fists before I even realize it.
“Talk to me, Alexandra. What else do you remember about him? Did he hurt you?”
Visions of what this man could have done to the woman I love play out in my mind. I try to fight it, but thinking that a piece of filth like Erik Marquez was anywhere within a mile of Alexandra is enough to set my blood on fire.
She shakes her head. My fists relax. Slightly.
“No. It’s not like that. I just…” A pause, a sigh that brings my arm around her and her chest to my face again. “When things were really serious between your old MC, the Road Kings, and the Crimson Fury, I remember my dad brought this man around the clubhouse. I never talked to him, but I saw him showing him around. Even took him into church.”
“What? Was he inducted? A prospect?”
She shakes her head. “I asked my dad about it. He wouldn’t talk much and I could tell he was upset that I was asking. He just said that he was some extra help, that he was a specialist, and that he’d be around to make sure that everything went to plan when that parley between the clubs was supposed to take place.”
“Some job he did. Even with extra help, it all went to shit.” My mind drifts back to that day; I can still see it so vividly — smell the air, the way there seemed to be hope in it before it reeked of blood. There was so much potential. Not just to bring to an end to the turf war between the Crimson Fury MC and the Road Kings, but the hope that, with the fighting behind us, we could find who was flooding our neighborhoods with drugs. “But I don’t recall seeing him at the meeting.”
“What are you talking about? My dad hired him specifically to be there.”
“I remember every fucking detail about that day. He wasn’t there.”
She shakes her head. “Maybe you’re misremembering. It was a few years ago, and with all the shooting…”
“It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I will never forget that day.”
“Can we just talk about something else for a moment?” A sigh. A sigh that’s too fragile for my liking. There’s a sob hidden within the hitch in her breath. It brings me out of my memories and into the moment — the woman I love is in pain. I put the key in the ignition and start the car. It rumbles to life, and she gives me a confused look. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you out of here.”
“You’re going to leave your own party? Dixon, we shouldn’t.”
I nod toward the crowd out the window. The party is in full swing. Other off-duty fire crews have showed up, and even some of Costa Oscura’s EMS workers are celebrating. I could be out there, sure, mending fences or whatever, but I’m needed here. With her. “We are. This is more important, and I don’t want any distractions.”
With no destination in mind, I drive. Drive until the city’s well behind us, with our only stop being a little gas station to pick up a six-pack of beer. Once the city is well in our rearview mirror and the only thing in front of us is the open road and the endless ocean, I pull to the side of the road, next to a high bluff that overlooks the Pacific. The air is full of the fresh scent of salt and the only sound is the rolling waves and the screeching of seabirds at the tideline. The sun sits overhead, bathing everything in gold and turning the sea a crystalline blue. I take a beer from the sixer and pass it to Alexandra, then open one for myself.
“Drink,” I say.
“It’s early.”
“You’re a bartender, you work the night shift, that means that everyone else’s ‘early’ is your late. And, with the shit you’ve been through, time really doesn’t matter right now. Drink.”
“Are you just trying to get me drunk so you can fuck me on the beach? You don’t have to get me drunk, by the way. But we sure as hell aren’t fucking on the beach. Sand gets everywhere, and it is no fun getting it in your…”
“This isn’t about getting you drunk, and I don’t want sand on my cock just as much as you don’t want sand in your pussy. This is about the cans.” To make my point clear, I take a few gulps from my beer and then pour the rest out. “If it helps, pour it out for Lucas.”
Though she’s confused, she does as I say. We get through the cans quickly and then I stack them on a fence post a long way away and then take out my gun.
I hand it to her. “You know how to shoot?”
“Of course I do. Lucas taught me.”
“You good?”
“Good enough.”
“Great. Let’s test that.” I walk her even further from where I’ve set up the cans until they’re at a distance where even an experienced marksman would find it difficult. “Let’s start here.”
“Start here? Start?”
I nod. “Challenge yourself.”
“Why?”
“You mean, aside from the obvious point of getting better at something that could prove really fucking useful? Because you’re wrapped up in your fucking head, Alexandra. And, as pretty as it is, that’s not where you want to be right now. It’s taking you down a road where you’re questioning things, doubting yourself, all that bullshit. You need to stay focused. Get your head on straight. When I was fucked up — not that I’m not fucked up now, but I was back then, too, only worse — shooting, and I mean, doing really difficult shooting, helped keep my head right.”
“How can I not question things? My dad and brother were leading a hired killer around the clubhouse, and he was supposed to help keep my brother safe during this meeting. Instead, he never showed. What if he had? What if he’d been there to watch my brother’s back? Lucas might still be alive.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter? It means everything.”
“Snap out of it, love. Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to shoot those targets, and then shoot some more, and then, in a day, or two, or five, or however long it takes, we’re going to find this guy. I will not rest until he’s our prisoner, sitting in front of you, ready to answer your questions and face your judgment. Because I love you, and I will do anything and everything for you. But you need to do something for me, too,” I say. Standing behind her, I put my hands on her arms and guide her aim. “You need to stop beating yourself up. I hate seeing the woman I love treat herself like this. So clear your mind and focus on what’s important: aim, breathe, shoot. That’s it.”
She raises the gun, but she doesn’t aim. Instead, she looks up at me over her shoulder and there’s a smile on her face. “You just told me you love me more than a couple times and you didn’t even call me princess once.”
“Meant every word, too. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to give you the peace and the justice that you deserve.” Those words land with all the force I intend them to — as a vow. As much as it means something to me to find out the truth about the murder of Lucas Reyes, it means even more to give to Alexandra something that would take away some of the pain that she’s carried with her for years.
That’s what really matters — her.
Her eyes glisten with a mix of emotions, with grief, anger, and love. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the cans in the distance. With my hands guiding her, she steadies her stance.
“You really mean that?” She says.
“That I love you and would do anything for you?”
“Yeah. That.” She pauses, kisses me. It’s like fire on my skin and sets my heart ablaze. “I love you, too, and the deeper this goes, the more I realize I am lucky to have you here with me.”
I swallow. Look straight ahead.
Fuck, it’s hard enough saying these things out loud. It’s even harder doing it while looking at a woman who ties my tongue in knots with her beauty.I place my hands back on hers and help her take aim.
“Time to shoot, princess.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, so we’re back to that nickname again?”
“Never stopped, princess.”
Smiling, she pulls the trigger.
“You fucking asshole.”