Order (Tattoos and Ties Duet #2)(95)
“Dammit, Key, what the hell did you do?”
Alec reached for his throbbing hand, but Keyes sidestepped him again, going for the sink. He flipped on the hot water and waited for it to warm as he let the fresh blood drip into the empty basin. The knuckles on his right hand were a torn-up mess. They would definitely be tender for a while. Alec stayed close, hovering at his side, reaching for his hand again but Keyes didn’t readily hand it over.
“It’s club business, Alec.”
“Fuck club business. Are you hurt?” For the first time since he’d arrived home, he cocked his head Alec’s direction where he held a clean hand towel in his hand. The heavy concern caused deep worry lines to wrinkle Alec’s forehead. Nash had finally made it to them. In his peripheral vision, he’d watched Nash trying to keep up since he’d walked inside the back door. Nash yapped at Keyes’s feet, his tiny face craning to better see them until the puppy lost his balance and toppled over.
Even with Alec’s aggressive outburst, the two of them instantly calmed his ravaged soul. The settling peace was immediate and thorough, the mounting weight of the evening’s emotional toll lifted off Keyes. Instinctively, Keyes lowered his face, rubbing his bearded cheek against Alec who brought his hand up to cup Keyes’s cheek, turning him to better look him in the eyes.
“Tell me you’re all right.”
“Of course.” He let a deep sigh out as he moved to kiss Alec’s lips. He stayed in Alec’s face, staring at this perfect man, basking in the soothing comfort that was Alec Pierce. “He just pissed me the fuck off and I lost it.” He let out another lengthy sigh then dunked his hand under the running water.
Keyes jerked his hand back at the sudden burst of pain and took a closer look at his knuckles.
“Goddammit.” Removing the dried and oozing blood hadn’t improved the look of his hand. And if his hand was this torn up, he must have done some pretty serious damage to Cummings.
“Let me get the first-aid kit.”
For Alec, Keyes suffered through the pain of washing his hands with antiseptic then wrapped the towel around his knuckles as Alec dumped the contents of a first-aid kit on the counter. Keyes gathered Nash up with his left hand, taking a barstool as Alec sifted through the small packages.
=?=
“Put your hand up here,” Alec instructed, his head reeling over the possibility of what this might mean for Key. He quickly scanned the directions on a can of antibacterial spray, not really seeing the instructions, his whole concentration demanding his internal panic stay at bay. It was damn hard to do. The word of Donald Cummings’s brutal beat down had gotten to Alec too fast. If the authorities didn’t already know about Key’s part in the incident, then they would as soon as Donald regained consciousness.
His heart started racing again, thinking over what would happen to Key. A premeditated fight with a state’s newest informant, granted full immunity for his willing cooperation. No right-minded judge would ever see the coincidence in a patched Havoc club member going after Cummings for any other reason than Cummings planned to rat the club out.
“Stop fussin’. I’ll be all right.” Key’s voice jarred Alec from his downward spiraling thoughts. He looked up to watch Key set Nash on the counter, boxed in with his arms, before he unwound the towel from his hand. The knuckles were still bleeding, and he quickly placed the towel over the cuts, adding pressure, trying to stop the flow as he rewrapped his hand.
“What were you thinking? He’s dangerous, Key,” Alec scolded, dropping his trembling hands to the counter, his shoulders slumped in uncertainty as he stared at his man.
“So the fuck am I, Alec.” Key countered with just enough force in his voice to drive the point home. They stared at one another until Key rolled his eyes and reached for Nash, putting him back on the floor. “I came home early after I got your text. Me and Nash were watchin’ TV and I saw you, and I saw him, and he used to hang out at the clubhouse. I recognized him. He’s a prospect, and I’m not entirely fuckin’ sure how that happened without my vote.”
Alec waited for several long seconds for more of an explanation, trying to understand what Key knew exactly. He had been careful to never give too many details away. Had Key snooped through his files, found the clues that Cummings could be granted immunity? Alec rejected the notion as soon as the idea crossed his mind. Key wasn’t the kind of man to rifle through Alec’s private belongings.
When Key didn’t say anything more, he took a deep centering breath, trying for calm as he questioned him. “Why did you go after him?”
“Dammit, Alec.” Key’s fist came down on the counter so hard the packages of the first-aid kit bounced. “All I was gonna do was tell him to stay the fuck away from his kid. I was gonna put some fear in him, then the fucker used my old man’s words. All I heard was my father’s constant badgerin’, and I lost my shit. He pulled a goddamn bat then a motherfuckin’ pistol, and I ain’t playin’ with that. My fuckin’ father used a bat to enforce his vile words. I lost it.”
Alec’s heart pounded so loudly, he was certain he hadn’t heard Key’s words correctly. “Cummings pulled a gun on you?” All the worry Alec had reined in settled on the glaring fact that Key could have been killed tonight, forever taken away from him. His heart crashed to his feet. His knees threatened to fail him.