Order (Tattoos and Ties Duet #2)(69)
“Fuckin’ pain in my goddamn ass,” Fox grumbled.
Keyes slung out his arm, stopping Dev from rising as Fox turned to all the brothers then back to him and Dev. If his arm didn’t keep Dev down, he suspected it would be two against the club. That wouldn’t turn out good for either of them.
“Keyes,” Fox started.
He looked up to Fox again who stood solemnly staring at him.
“That was the chick from hospice. Your old man passed.”
Keyes blinked as the strange calmness from before washed over him. Relief blanketed him like a second skin. They hadn’t found out about Alec. He closed his eyes, cocking his head to the side as the fear slid away, leaving optimism in its place.
“He don’t give a shit. That sorry old man needed to die,” Dev mouthed, clearly not reading the room. The rest of their brothers were in instant grief. Fox’s vibrant eyes flashed on Dev, his jaw locked and his fists balled. Fox cared about Keyes’s father. They were brothers with a long history and a deep friendship.
“Close your fuckin’ mouth,” Fox snarled, pointing a finger in his son’s face, and Keyes clamped a hand down on Dev’s shoulder to hold him in place.
“Is that why we got called to church?” Keyes asked, trying to defuse the anger between father and son. As far as he was concerned, his father’s passing meant things just got easier in some respects and a lot more complicated in others. On one hand, he could start rebuilding his life without the constant insults. On the other hand, his dad had inadvertently given him an excuse to spend time away from the club which strengthened his relationship with Alec. The fear he experienced when seeing Fox walk through the door and look directly at him needed to be a reminder not to get too relaxed where Alec was concerned.
Keyes watched Fox take a mental step back before he took a full physical step away.
“No.” Fox shook his head, wiping the anger from his eyes before he continued, “We’ve got other shit to talk about or I’d let us go. Smoke was our brother. We might’ve disagreed with him, but he was still one of us, and I gotta go deal with him first. Mack, ride with me. This reconvenes in two hours.” Fox motioned toward Mack before looking down at his watch. “Be back here by eight.”
Dev grabbed his arm as Fox turned to Keyes. “You have a need to deal with his body? Plan the funeral?”
“Not particularly,” Keyes answered honestly, hoping the club hadn’t expected him to. He was sure Fox had been made aware of his father’s request that he take no part in the funeral, so he had to be asking out of respect. Fox gave a nod and started for the clubhouse door.
“Good?” Dev quietly asked when Fox left them standing there. Keyes gave him a look of hell-yeah-he-was-okay, and Dev slapped him on the back. “Let’s go eat. My treat. The fuckin’ dick is dead. And for what it’s worth, man, I hope you know you’re nothin’ like him. You’re strong where he was so fuckin’ weak. And I know you, so when the guilt comes, and it’s suffocatin’ you, you better fuckin’ know you don’t have a goddamn thing to be guilty for. It’s time to leave all that shit in the past and give yourself permission to breathe.”
Keyes nodded and ducked his head, avoiding all the stares directed his way as they left the clubhouse. Let them think he was overcome with whatever the fuck they thought. Maybe this was what freedom felt like, and it felt fucking good with the potential of great.
Alec drove slowly down business highway 287 in Waxahachie, Texas, listening to GPS as he tried to read the street signs in the dark, not wanting to miss his turn. Of course, there were no street lights this far out. The angry wind whipped through the trees, fall leaves flew in every direction, and the unsteady street signs danced under the force of Mother Nature. He couldn’t see a thing.
“Turn right in…” Alec flipped on his blinker and took the turn, hoping Google Maps hadn’t screwed up again. For his first attempt, he’d been looking for a particular chocolate shop, a place Kellus had told him about, and ended up at what he could only describe as the neighborhood crack house. He hated being lost. It was already close to eight o’clock in the evening and seemed incredibly rude to show up much later than this, no matter if the sale had been pre-arranged.
Funny though, the Westlake area considered itself country living. Alec just shook his head. This was true country. Smaller homes on large chunks of land and lots of fencing indicating animals needed to be kept in. Not just pets lived around here.
Maybe as far at two miles down this side road the GPS alerted him of the upcoming address. It still took several hundred feet before he saw the mailbox. The address had been scratched off, which was about right, nothing could be easy. Alec came to a stop in front of the property. The home sat some distance off the road. Luckily, the porch light flipped on. He took that as an invitation and turned into the driveway, hoping he’d gotten it right. If not, he hoped he wasn’t met with a shotgun for trespassing at such a late hour. Both seemed equally possible out here.
There didn’t seem to be any clear parking guidelines. Alec pulled his sports car off the gravel drive and parked to the side of the house behind one of those Texas-sized trucks he saw all over the place and grabbed his coat. He got out, quickly slid his arms in, and pulled the full-length coat around him, throwing the wool scarf over his shoulders to ward off the icy chill in the wind as he started for the front door. Whoever said DFW didn’t get cold was an absolute idiot. It was freezing outside. The cold wind made him shiver as he took the steps up the porch. Just as he reached up to knock, the door opened and a woman in her night robe motioned him inside with a warm friendly smile.