She was Rachel Laker.
DAs feared her, judges dreaded her appearing before their benches, and my ragtag bunch of outlaws actually fucking listened to her.
The reminder had me settling on what we did best: business.
“Plausible deniability.”
Her fingers stopped their stroking at our code word.
Where she knew not to ask for more information less it mess with her ability to defend me in court.
I wanted her to be my Rach. To help me through this fuckfest, but we’d gone past that years ago.
So many fucking years ago.
The thought had me pulling away from her touch and shoving the chair back to give me some distance.
The ache for her hadn’t gone anywhere. It never had. But I wasn’t the one who’d broken us. I wasn’t the one who’d pushed us apart.
So I sucked in a breath, logged my lungs down with air, then strode over to the fridge.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I’d be moving out and returning to the clubhouse over the next week, but I didn’t.
Instead, I reached into the refrigerator and snagged a box of takeout and started to eat cold General Tso’s chicken.
It tasted like shit.
“Rex?”
I didn’t look up at her. “Yeah?” I snatched another sticky piece of chicken with my fingers then chowed it down.
“Look at me.”
“Why?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“A valid one. What do you want me to look at? The sleep shorts that show your ass off or the way that camisole clings to your tits?”
They were things I’d never have said at any other time.
But this wasn’t any other time.
This was the night my dad had asked me to assist his suicide.
My throat closed even as I registered the hissed intake of her breath.
“It doesn’t…” Her words waned. “I didn’t come down here to tease you.”
“You breathe and you tease me, Rachel.” I finally cast her a glance. “Ain’t you figured that out yet, babe?”
Her nostrils flared, but there was no glee or smug satisfaction in her eyes. Just like I knew there wouldn’t be. My girl was broken, had been for nearly two decades.
“When you look at me like that, you remind me of the first time I went into the basement and found you down there.”
Her shoulders straightened. “What?”
Leaning back against the counter, I stuck my sticky finger into my mouth and cleaned some of the goo off it before I said, “You looked at me like I was going to attack you.”
“I didn’t,” she scoffed.
“You did. I knew then someone had touched you.”
“They hadn’t.”
I settled my gaze on hers, let her feel the weight of it. Let her feel the command.
I might not have been her Prez, but I was her King.
She knew what that look meant because her breath hitched. “Things had happened that I shouldn’t have seen or experienced,” she reasoned woodenly. “But no one had touched me.”
“That supposed to make it better?”
If I could have killed her mom again, I would have.
“No,” she said softly. “It isn’t.”
“Good, because it didn’t work.” I turned away from her and retreated into the fridge once more. Snagging a bottle of beer, settling on that instead of the JD I wished I could savor intravenously, I stated, “Not sure you came down here to reminisce about the bad times.”
She flinched. “They weren’t all bad.”
My lips quirked up in a half smile. “Good to know.”
“I wanted to make some tea. But… is it Bear?”
I took a deep sip of beer then dipped my chin in assent.
“Why do I need plausible deniability?”
“Me explaining would break the terms of that, now wouldn’t it?”
She strode forward, her hand snagging the beer out of mine before she growled, “This is Bear, Rex. Bear. Plausible deniability, my ass. You tell me what the hell is going on.”
“You were always scared of him when you were growing up. What changed?”
Her mouth tightened. “I was scared he’d throw me out. When Mom left, Axel needed me to look after Rain. I didn’t have to worry about being thrown out, and I saw how he was with you. He was a great dad.”
Whatever she might have said, I didn’t think it’d be that.
I half-wheezed, “You can’t seriously think he’d have thrown you out?”
Her gaze was steady. Measured. She meant it. She really fucking imagined that I’d have let him do that. “The word irrational exists for a reason.”
“I guess it does.” I reached out to tuck a strand of gleaming dark red hair behind her ear. “I’d never have let him kick you out.”
Rach swallowed. “I think I knew that, but I still didn’t want to make a bad impression.”
Brain whirring with the repercussions of that, I told her, “Your place is with us.” I wanted to say with me, but she didn’t want to hear that. “Always with us. No matter where you fly off to for those charity cases—” I settled a tight smile on her, so she knew I knew her ‘charity cases’ were bullshit. “—this will always be your home.”
“Your name’s on the land registry,” she rasped, showing no surprise at me calling her out.
“Your name’s on the deed of this house.” I snagged my Bud back from her. “Plus, you’re my lawyer. Can I hire you to toss yourself off the lot?”
She didn’t smile. “This is a moot point.”
“Is it? Your place is here, Rachel,” I intoned grimly, unsure why I wanted to ram this home, just needing to do it anyway. “Always here.”
Neither of us broke the silence that fell, a surprising silence.
I should have known that she’d be the one who’d get my mind off this evening. She was the only one who could do that. Who could hold my whole focus.
With her eyes on mine, I swore the rest of the world stopped turning.
I didn’t give a fuck about Nyx and his likelihood that he’d go off the rails, or the fact my dad had asked me to help him reunite with my mom. I didn’t think about Mav’s CTE or that there was a potential FBI plant floating around West Orange or that my mom had been murdered by the Sparrows.
She was all I saw.
All I felt.
She always had been.
“Tell me what’s going on with Bear,” she whispered after a while that could have lasted minutes or hours.
“You don’t want to know,” I said, and I meant it.
Rach watched me take another sip of beer. “I think we both know that I do.”
Mouth tight, I bowed my head. “He woke up.”
“He did?”
I felt her excitement and almost hated to squash it. “Not for long.” I swallowed. “Just long enough to tell me he needed Mom.”
A soft sigh escaped her. “He loved her so much.”
“He did.” She didn’t get what I was saying, and who could blame her for missing the point? So I spelled it out, “He wants me to help him be with her again.”
Her loose stance turned taut. Her back straightened like she’d been lashed, and the pain in her eyes matched it. But somehow, while it might have stunned the hell out of me, it hadn’t shocked her.