Chapter Thirty-Two Alexandra
Iwasn’t hallucinating. Deacon was really here with me in the bathroom stall. With a thunderous roar, he launched himself at Sigel, knocking him away from me.
Gasping and wheezing for breath, I collapsed to the ground. As I tried getting my breath, my gaze took in Deacon pummeling Sigel’s face. My stomach churned at the blood coating his hands.
I turned my head to the side, purging the contents of my stomach, along with my fear and adrenaline, onto the bathroom floor. When I finally stopped retching, I slid my hand across my mouth.
When I swiveled my neck, I saw that Deacon stood over Sigel’s crumpled, battered form. At the hideous smile curved on his face, I shuddered. It would give me nightmares to come.
“You actually thought you took me out, didn’t you?” Deacon demanded.
Sigel’s response came in a gurgling rasp, which caused Deacon to chuckle cruelly. “How fucking satisfying is it that the last thing you’re going to see is my face. Just like your piece of shit son.”
With my knife in his hands, Deacon growled, “Now fucker, I’m going to send you to hell. Just like I did your son.”
Slowly, I rolled over and began trying to stand up. It took everything within me to get onto my feet. I then lumbered over to Deacon and Sigel.
When Sigel caught my gaze, Deacon turned to see what he was staring at. “Alexandra, stay back. I’ve got him.”
I shook my head. “We…do…it…together,” I gritted out painfully as my bruised throat felt like razor blades.
Deacon’s eyes narrowed to fury filled slits. “Fuck that. You tried to deny me earlier. Remember?”
“I was… doing it to protect you….and Willow,” I protested in a ragged whisper.
“That’s what you want me to believe.”
After swallowing several times, my voice felt to feel stronger as I said, “It’s the truth. With everything she’s been through, Willow couldn’t lose you.”
“And I’ll be coming back to her safe and sound just as soon as I slit his motherfucking throat.”
As Sigel started army crawling away from us, Deacon gripped his knife and took a step forward. My words froze him.
“Deacon, please.” Slowly, he turned to face me. “Can’t you understand I had my reasons?”
“Reasons? You handcuffed me to a bed, went behind my back with a club member, and then risked your own life trying to take down my greatest enemy. That seems without any fucking reason to me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is it always only about you and your own personal revenge and vendettas, Deacon? Can you for a moment think about what it was like for me when I found out Sigel murdered my parents? The way I see it I had just as much reason to take him out as you did.”
“You sure as hell didn’t! After what he did to Preacher Man, I deserved to take him out, not you. Dammit, Alex, you knew how much this means to me!”
“If we’re tallying up body counts for revenge, he took out both my mother and father. I think I have a greater claim.”
“They were just civilians. We had a club history that—”
His words cut off as my palm cracked against his cheek.
“You unimaginable bastard. How dare you stand there and spout that bullshit to me. Yeah, my parents weren’t in your precious club.
They were honorable and decent people who lost their lives simply for standing up for what was right—a kid who was being abused. ”
I shook my head. “You know, I expected you to be fighting mad when you saw me again, but this is beyond my realm of comprehension.”
“When I saw you again, that bastard had his hands around your throat choking the life out of you. So please tell me again how you had the situation handled.”
Leaning closer to him, I hissed, “Don’t fucking expect me to thank you.”
“Unfuckingbelievable,” Deacon muttered.
“Here’s the thing. I stabbed a man tonight.
With my own hands. Hands that used to cut construction paper hearts and point out sight words to innocent children.
I did it for my parents, but I also did it for you.
If I had died tonight taking out Sigel, you would still be alive for Willow.
I made a sacrifice for you. And even though you’re an undeserving asshole, I would do it again so that sweet little girl wouldn’t be parentless. ”
As Deacon continued staring at me, I held up my hands. “You’re right. I was wrong to handcuff you and risk my life. But you have to believe me when I say it was from a place of love.”
When he remained unspeaking and unmoving, I added, “And from that same place of love, I’m begging you to let me do this with you.” With a shake of my head, I said, “Don’t you get it? Things will never be the same between us if you don’t.”
Deacon’s broad chest rose and fell with harsh pants. His grip on the knife turned his knuckles white. Just when I thought he was about to lunge forward for Sigel, his shoulders drooped in defeat.
His agonized gaze locked with mine. With a shake of his head, he said, “I’m not trying to keep you from doing this because I’m a selfish bastard.
I know what it means to kill someone. I’ve known it since I was a fifteen-year-old kid.
” He shook his head furiously back and forth.
“I never wanted that for you. Ever. You’re the pure and clean light in my dark, sinful world. ”
Tears stung my eyes. “I know you don’t want it for me. But the outlaw life has rubbed off on me, Jesse James.” Jerking my chin at Sigel, I said, “And this is so very personal.”
“I’m afraid…” He swallowed hard. “I’m afraid that one day when all this PTSD is gone, you’ll despise me for soiling you like this.”
I shook my head. “We’ll never make it to that point if you don’t let me do this.”
Deacon stared at me for a long moment before he finally reached for my hand. When I slipped it into his, he jerked me to his side. Sigel had stopped trying to crawl. Instead, he remained unmoving in a fetal position.
After letting go of my hand, Deacon grabbed Sigel’s shoulder and rolled him over. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. “Is he…?” I asked.
A rasping gurgle echoed back in response. “Almost,” Deacon replied. He then jerked his chin at me. “Get on your knees.”
I quickly obeyed him by kneeling down on the ground.
Staring at Sigel, I eyed the mutilations on his body that I’d inflicted with my borrowed knife—I’d had no idea such a ferocity was hidden within me.
In a way, it frightened me more than consoled me, and I couldn’t help thinking maybe Deacon had been right.
But then my parents’ faces flashed before my eyes, and adrenaline once again surged through me. Deacon reached over to place my hand in his. Without taking his eyes from mine, he placed my hand on the handle of the knife. The warmth of his skin on mine radiated through me.
“Together,” he murmured.
Nodding, I replied, “Together.”
Without another word, Deacon guided our hands to Sigel’s throat. My breath hitched as I waited for the knife to once again pierce his skin. “For Preacher Man,” Deacon gritted out.
“For John and Vivian,” I whispered.
The words had barely left my lips when a wet, sticky spray of Sigel’s blood coated my fingers. As Deacon dug our knife across muscles and tendons, my vision blurred as my stomach lurched and rolled.
Pinching my eyes shut, I willed myself not to vomit or jerk my hand away. I don’t know how long I stayed like. In some ways it felt like an eternity and in others it felt like just seconds.
Only Deacon’s voice drew me out of the darkness.
“It’s done.”
My eyes snapped open. When I gazed down, Sigel’s eyes stared into nothingness. The same nothingness that seemed to envelope me. I don’t know what I expected to feel when I saw him dead by my hand. But it wasn’t the prickly numbness cloaking me like a heavy coat.
“Alexandra?” Deacon questioned softly.
My gaze flicked to his. “Y-Yeah?”
Deacon apprised me gravely. “Are you okay?”
“I…killed him.” A maniacal laugh trilled from my lips, echoing off the walls. The sound made me shudder. “I…I just killed Sigel.”
“We just killed Sigel,” Deacon corrected.
“We did, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, babe. We did.”
His expression became distorted before me. As the tears began streaking down my cheeks, I launched myself into his arms. Harsh sobs rolled through my chest, causing my body and Deacon’s to shake.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Deacon murmured into my ear.
I knew in that moment he was the only thing keeping the last shreds of my sanity from snapping. He was the sun in all the darkness.
“Kiss me,” I ordered.
Deacon jerked back to stare at me in surprise. “Kiss me,” I implored.
With a storm of indecision raging in his eyes, Deacon dipped his head to bring his lips to mine. My bloody hands came around his back to grip his shoulder desperately. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into his skin. I needed him that much.
Just as Deacon’s tongue slid against my lips, a crashing sound came from above us. After jerking his lips from mine, Deacon shot to his feet. Before I could tell Deacon it was okay, Archer crashed through the ceiling tile and collapsed onto the floor in front of us.
“What the fuck?” Deacon demanded.
Ignoring him, I rushed over to Archer. “Are you okay?”
A grimace curved on his lips as he pulled himself into a sitting position. “No. But I will be.” He glanced passed me to Deacon. Archer’s eyes bulged wide at the sight of him. “I take that back. I’m truly fucked.”
“No you’re not,” I protested, as I dusted him off.
Ignoring me, Archer looked only to Deacon. “Before you kill me, I want you to remember how persuasive she is.”
Laughter burst from my lips as Deacon glared at him,. “I’ll deal with you later.”
“I’m sorry, man. I thought her plan was the best thing for the club and for your family. Even when you came back from the dead, so to speak, it still made sense.”
“It made fucking sense for someone defenseless like Alex to take on someone like Sigel?” Deacon demanded.
Surprisingly, Archer didn’t back down. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at him. “Would you let go of your bullshit pride for a minute and truly think? He never saw it coming. He never imagined her capable of it. Any of the rest of us? He would have seen us coming a mile away, including you.”
“Yeah, it all made sense until Sigel’s hands were wrapped around her throat,” Deacon blared.
Archer’s face paled. “Fuck, Alex.”
Shaking my head, I reasoned, “I’d already mortally wounded him.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Deacon countered.
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Before Deacon could argue with me, Archer held up his hands. “We need to curb this conversation for later. We’ve got the potential for Sigel’s men start swarming the place.”
“We took care of them,” Deacon replied.
“We?” I asked.
“Rev and Bishop.” At Archer’s questioning look, Deacon added, “And without witnesses.”
While my eyes bulged in surprise, Archer grinned. “Stealth mode, huh?”
“They drew them out for me.”
Archer nodded. “Then we need to get our story together for the cops since our original plan has changed.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Deacon said, “And just what plan was that?”
At Archer’s grimace, I stepped between him and Deacon. “To cover for Archer ‘killing’ Sigel, we needed to really sell his story by having me beat up.”
Deacon’s dark brows rose. “And how the fuck were you going to achieve that?”
“He was going to beat me up.”
Deacon’s blue eyes bulged before he lunged at Archer, knocking him into the wall. When his grip on Archer’s neck tightened, I raced to their side. “It was my idea, Deacon. Archer didn’t want to do it. But it was a necessary evil.”
When Archer nodded in agreement, Deacon merely choked him harder. “Deacon, stop it!” I cried as I beat my fists against his back.
“He was going to lay his hands on you!” Deacon growled.
“Only because I was forcing his hand! I swear on my life and his. He’s a good man who wanted to help me and in turn you.”
At my words, Deacon slowly loosened his hold. Collapsing onto his knees, Archer wheezed and gasped.
“There’s no fucking way I’m letting him hurt one hair on your head!” Deacon bellowed.
I jerked my chin at him. “Then you’ll have to do it.”
Deacon recoiled in horror at my suggestion. “Have you lost your mind?”
“No, I’m fully aware of what needs to be done to sell our story to the authorities.”
Without another word, Deacon began pacing around the stall. Just as I started to reach out for him, he threw back his head.
“FUCK!” he roared as he kicked Sigel’s corpse.
“Deacon, please. Time is ticking.”
Throwing up his hands, he countered, “And what’s the fucking story? Archer just happened to show up here as you were getting your ass kicked by Sigel?”
“No, he was here working late and heard the noise.”
When Deacon turned to Archer, he noticed for the first time that he was wearing coveralls with a company’s named stitched on the pocket. “You swipe some credentials?”
“I did,” Archer replied.
Deacon appeared momentarily impressed. “So, I just walk out of here and pretend I had nothing to do with it?” Deacon questioned.
“You only have to pretend to the authorities,” I reasoned.
Deacon exhaled a ragged breath. “I’ll agree to this bullshit plan on one condition.”
“What?”
When his shoulders drooped in defeat, I knew what he was going to ask. “You don’t allow him to hit you.”
“Deacon—”
“I can bear a lot of shit, Alexandra…” He shook his head. “But I can’t deal with you being hurt.”
Since I knew it was fruitless arguing with him, I merely nodded. “I suppose it’ll have to be enough that he choked me.”
Relief flashed on Deacon’s face. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
Archer glanced between the two of us. “You need to get out of here Deacon. It’s going to be enough blowback on the club with your girlfriend being involved.”
Deacon gave a reluctant nod. Cocking his brows at me, he asked, “There aren’t working cameras down this way, are there?”
“No.” Eyeing him, I asked, “What did you have in mind?”
With a wink, he replied, “Some chaos.”