Chapter Eleven Deacon #3
“My adopted father, Preacher Man, left his church in the summer. That fall, he came to me one day and asked if I’d ever wanted revenge on my father.
I told him of course I did—it was something I thought of each and every day.
I was fucking blown away when he told me he’d been able to track my old man down—something even the cops hadn’t been able to do—and if I wanted to, he’d take me to him. ”
“What happened then?” Alex prompted.
I shrugged almost apathetically. “We drove to Texas, so I could end him.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
Flashing her a grin, I replied, “But then if I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”
“After what I told you, I thought we had established more trust than that.”
“Fine. You want the gory details so you can have nightmares and never want to be in the same room with me ever again?”
Lowering her eyes, she replied, “Not really.”
“Then don’t fucking ask me questions like that because you won’t like the answers. All you need to know is he’s dead and will never be able to hurt anyone ever again.”
“How did he hurt you?” she asked, her dark eyes once again finding mine. They were so fucking hypnotic I could barely look away. She had to be doing some kind of hypnotizing hoodoo to make me talk as much as I had.
“He’s a waste of air to talk about.”
“I still want to know.”
I threw up my hands in defeat. “My old man was fucking evil incarnate. What the hell my mother ever saw in him, I’ll never know.
Guess she thought she could change him, save him from what he was.
But he only ended up taking her down with him.
When I was two, he pushed her down a flight of stairs when she was eight months pregnant.
Said he didn’t need another mouth to feed.
Lucky for him, my sister was stillborn.”
Alexandra reached for my hand, but I jerked it away. Her expression saddened both at what I had said and probably how I reacted to her. “Your poor mother.”
“She tried leaving him a bunch of times. Before my grandparents kicked it, she stayed with them some, but they were both so old and sick that they weren’t any help to her against my dad.
He’d threaten to kill them if she didn’t come home to him.
” I shook my head, as my voice choked off with emotion.
“She must’ve felt like a fucking trapped animal. ”
“Tell me about her.”
“She was beautiful with long dark hair and dark eyes. Willow’s going to look just like her.”
“So you look like your mother?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
I tried to recall as much of my seven years with her as I could. “She smelled like apricots because she loved to wear this apricot lotion.”
A shaky laugh rumbled through me at one particular memory.
“One time, she didn’t have the money to get any lotion.
So being a scrappy five-year-old, I stole some off the shelf.
I couldn’t understand why in the hell she dragged me back there.
She made me give it to the store manager along with an apology.
But then in her own patient way, she made me understand how wrong it was to steal.
More than anything, she said she wanted me to be better than my father. ”
Reaching in my pocket, I tugged out a pack of cigarettes and my lighter. Alexandra didn’t protest when I lit up. After a long drag, I said, “After all her hard work, she probably wouldn’t be too proud of me today.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“And you’re obviously too na?ve. What part of my world don’t you understand? I told you I killed my fucking father.”
“Why did you kill him, Deacon?” she repeated.
Although she had asked it before, it seemed to be addressed in a different way.
She must’ve known how I felt perfectly justified in killing him, but she still wanted more.
She wanted to make me dig up that emotional grave where I had long buried the reasons that drove me to murder the bastard who had fathered me when I was still practically a kid.
After all, I was seemingly loyal, and the greatest breech of loyalty was killing your own blood.
Even though I should’ve ignored her question and stalked out of the room, I decided to give her what she was after. Then maybe she could once and for all know what an unimaginable bastard I was.
“Because he killed my mother! He tracked her down and tortured her like a fucking animal. He couldn’t just slit her throat or shoot her.
No, he made her pay for running from him.
He beat her until she died from internal bleeding and a fractured skull that sent bone fragments slicing into her brain.
” Shaky hands brought the cigarette to my lips where I could take a drag.
Sometimes late at night if things were too quiet, I could hear her screams…
hear her begging for her life. Then finally her pleading for my life.
“Where were you when your mother was being killed?”
“Why do you have to have so many fucking questions? Are you some kind of morbid freak that gets off on shit like this? A masochist for emotional pain?”
Instead of cowering back at my verbal assault, Alex stood firm. “Where were you?” she repeated.
“Why do you need to know? What could you possibly get by fucking knowing?”
“It isn’t for me that I’m asking. It’s for you.”
Tossing the cigarette onto the ashtray on the table, I then lunged at Alex. Taking her by the throat with one hand, I glared into her eyes with enough venom that she should have cowered in fear. “If you were a man, I’d take you down for fucking with me like this.”
“If hitting me makes you feel better, frees you of the pain, then hit me.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Answer my question.”
“You got a death wish, woman?” I snarled.
“He tied you up, didn’t he?” As I flared my nostrils in anger, she said, “He didn’t just leave you in the car or another room. He made you watch what he did, but you couldn’t do anything to help her.”
Squeezing tighter on her throat, I willed her to shut up.
She was too close.
She knew too much.
She could see me too well.
Her fingers came to my hand, her nails digging into my skin. But as I stared into her eyes, there was no panic or fear in them. Easing back, I dropped the hand from her throat. I eyed it with contempt before dropping it beside me. What the hell had I been thinking to manhandle her like that?
“Oh fuck, Alex. I’m sorry,” I croaked. Shaking my head, I said, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“No, I’m the one who is sorry.”
I blinked at her in disbelief. “You’re sorry? I’m the one who manhandled you.”
“But I deserved it.”
“No you didn’t.”
“And you didn’t hurt me.”
“I’m not sorry for that.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry for the helpless seven-year-old little boy who has been forced to carry around such a burden, such guilt, for something he couldn’t control.”
I practically leapt off the bed to get away from her. “Don’t you fucking dare start that pity shit with me!”
“I’m sorry that you’ve never been able to open up to anyone before for fear that they won’t love your darker parts.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
I then stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Although I wanted to march straight for the bar and down a few shots, my boots remained rooted to the hallway floor.
God, the things I’d said to her—the deepest, darkest parts of myself.
No woman had ever gotten that much from me.
Not Mama Liz, not Lacey. Fear had always bound me from revealing too much.
That if they knew the real me, they couldn’t love me.
Sure, they may have had their ideas about what I got up to in my business, but they never questioned me about it.
Hell, no one had grilled me like Alexandra had.
For reasons I couldn’t fucking understand, I didn’t escape down the hall to throw some back with my brothers. Instead, I opened the fucking bedroom door and slipped back inside.
Alexandra sat on the edge of the bed, the sheet pulled up to her chest. Her brows rose at the sight of me. “Me coming back in here doesn’t mean I agree with what you said.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
I crossed the room to the bed. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass, Miss Evans.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.”
Jerking my chin at her, I said, “Go on and lie back down.”
“You don’t want me to go?”
“No, I don’t.”
Surprise flooded her face. “I just expected that—”
“Don’t you ever shut up?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she flounced back in the bed, burrowing under the covers.
Of course while she was doing that, I got another flash of her bra covered tits and those damn boy shorts.
While her behavior still had me fuming, just the sight of that sexy, yet strong, body of hers fueled other reactions in me.
Damn, that woman.
Once she was covered, I walked around the side of the bed.
I eased down on the mattress to honor her request of staying until she fell asleep.
Of course, I kept my ass on top of the covers and as far away as I could from her.
When I thought she had finally settled down, I reached over and hit the light.
“Deacon?” she implored.
“Alex, if you know what is good for you right now, you’ll close your fucking eyes and go to sleep.”
“I just wanted to say thank you.”
“What the hell for?”
“For talking with me tonight. It means a lot.”
While I would never admit it to her, it meant a lot to me, too. The smallest sliver of peace ran through me. Regardless of how small it was, I would gladly take it. “Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled.
Then I allowed myself to fall asleep next to a woman for the first time in my life.