Order (Tattoos and Ties Duet #2)(14)
He cut the engine, staring at the dark building. A corner window showed a light turning on. By the time he got Dev out of the truck, Holly was standing on the porch with the porch light on, a pretty little robe wrapped around her, both worry and relief clear on her face.
“Babe,” Dev said, slurring his words as he tried and failed to pull free of Keyes’s hold. With as much as he had to carry Dev to keep him on his feet, Keyes didn’t think it was wise to let him go. “You’re home.”
“I came home early, but you weren’t here,” she said, worry and confusion etched on her pretty face as she took in everything she was seeing. By her reaction, this might be a first for her, which spoke volumes for how much Dev must care for her.
“Didn’t wanna be here without you,” Dev managed to say before slumping in Keyes’s arms, requiring him to carry Dev the rest of the way inside. Together, they knocked through the front door then down the hall, Holly shimmying past to lead the way to their bedroom where Keyes laid Dev out across the bed.
“Want me to get his clothes off?” he asked, tugging off one of Dev’s boots then the other. He placed those on the floor beside the bed.
“No. That’s enough. Thank you for getting him home. He’s been drinking quite a bit more, but I haven’t seen him like this,” she said, her worried gaze focused on Dev as she wrapped her arms around her waist.
He’d have to give that topic a hard pass. Keyes didn’t want to know their problems and certainly didn’t want to talk to her about them. He immediately started for the bedroom door. “I’ll be by in the mornin’ to take him to work.”
“I can take him. I don’t have to work and the girls are gone this week,” she said, following behind him back toward the front door.
“You sure? I don’t mind,” he asked, his only real focus was on making his way out of the house as quickly as possible.
“No, I got it. Do you have his keys?”
He only slowed from his quick getaway to turn while walking over the threshold of the front door. “Tell him Hound’s got ’em.”
Keyes hightailed it back to the truck, jumping in and shoving the keys in the ignition, starting the engine within a couple of minutes of tugging off Dev’s boots. He put the truck in reverse and paused to pull his phone from his pocket to check the time. Solidly past midnight. Alec was probably sleeping. He shouldn’t text. He sighed. With that decision made, he pressed on the gas, looking over his shoulder to back out of the parking space.
=?=
Alec dropped Paul Dixon’s record on his desk and had to fight the bile rising in his throat. The story of Key’s tragic childhood unfolded in the long list of complaints and charges filed against his father. How in the world had Key turned into such a fine man growing up under the influence of that horrible human being? Alec shuffled the pages now spread across his desk to find the photo of Paul Dixon. The image led to another glaringly obvious question: how was this man Key’s father? He was short with a stocky build and jet black hair. Alec wished he had a photo of Key’s mother.
He pushed back in his office chair, his chin resting between his forefinger and thumb as he stared unseeingly at the scattered sheets, thinking about Harmony Carter Dixon. Based on the words painting the picture of Key’s mother, she seemed like a train wreck, and that was putting it nicely. What had that life been like for such a young boy?
Alec leaned back in his chair, dropping his head back on the headrest. This was exactly why CPS was wrong for him. His heart ached for Key and his heart feared for Keely. He’d gotten lost for hours, trying to piece together the timeline of Key’s abusive life. Janice had only presented him with the facts, very few in-depth details, and those were only from the time Key landed in CPS custody. Key had run away from foster care several times, gotten arrested as a teenager, and dropped out of school by the middle of tenth grade. If Keely was subjected to this lifestyle, would the same happen to her?
Alec searched the papers for the reference to the man who’d posted bail for Key when he’d been eighteen years old. Clyde Carter. He must be Key’s uncle.
Key wouldn’t like Alec knowing all this. He was too proud of a man.
How did Key not have a million trust issues?
Of course, his biker couldn’t say I love you. He might not ever be able to say those words aloud.
Moreover, their differences just became more clearly defined. He didn’t really know Key—not all of him. What had Alec hoped to accomplish by insisting an outlaw biker blend into his life? Key was so grounded, at ease with his decisions. He navigated a world that Alec had very little knowledge of. The man hadn’t let his environment consume him. It flowed around him but never swallowed him. Alec envied that.
Alec’s life hadn’t been perfect, but the show his father put on for the world would easily convince anyone otherwise. Alec had grown accustomed to the cold, distant acknowledgement whenever he came around. His family continually rejected him. No, he hadn’t been physically injured like Key, but emotionally, he’d been hurt. Abuse wore many faces, and Alec had no doubt his parents’ public life had probably been the only reason their disgust hadn’t manifested into a physical form. The marks left by his and Key’s pasts made them the men they were today.
Somehow, he had been able to develop a strong sense of self—perhaps Key had too. Alec would always have to remember to rein in his natural pushy tendencies and allow Key room to be comfortable. It was a lot for Alec to take on, and he let out a long, deep sigh, resting back in the seat again.