“Look at me.” She grabbed his face, pulling it back toward hers, and forced the calmest voice she could, which wasn’t very calm at all. “I know you want revenge, or justice, but this is not about that. There is no revenge for what he did. Between losing my dad, my mom’s alcoholism, and what happened, I don’t have a pretty past. I’ve had no one to turn to since I was nine, and there was so much shit on my plate, I felt myself crumbling under the weight of it all. I made a choice. Rather than crash and burn, I left and I started over. I had to. I know there are people who will never understand my not going to the police. But they aren’t me. I had no one I trusted enough to turn to. Not my parent, not a best friend, not a counselor. And by the time I met David and we’d worked through enough of the issues that I could have considered going to the police, it was too late. There were no witnesses, and honestly, I wanted to move on. I made the decision that was right for me, and I stand behind it. And now that’s all in the past and none of it can be fixed with revenge. There’s only what happened and how I’ve moved past it. And”—she softened her tone—“how I want to have a relationship with you. Please don’t let your anger about what happened come between us, because it will.”
“Fuck.” He closed his eyes. Then he took her face in his hands, restrained rage present in the hard press of his fingers. “You’re asking me to go against everything I believe. You’re asking me to let a rapist walk free.”
“Yes, I am. It was more than four years ago, Bear. There is no evidence. You said you would be what I needed. This is what I need.”
BEAR ROLLED INTO the parking lot of Whiskey Bro’s around midnight, surprised to see his father’s car parked among the typical lineup of motorcycles and trucks. His father came by the bar often, but he didn’t usually stick around that late. Bear checked his phone to see if he had missed a call from Bullet asking him to take a shift. He was scheduled to bartend Wednesday night, but sometimes they called him on the spur of the moment if the bar got busy. He’d been so blown away by what Crystal had told him, it wouldn’t have surprised him if he had missed a text. Luckily, there were no missed messages from his brother.
To a passerby, the wooden building with rough, marred pillars, frequented by bikers and avoided by most others, didn’t look like much more than a shady dive. The Dark Knights clubhouse, located behind the bar, was equally unimpressive. But to Bear, who’d practically been raised in the bar, walking into Whiskey’s was like coming home, and with the way his insides were roiling and his mind was waging a full-on war, he needed as much stability as he could get.
He stepped into the bar, inhaling the scents of leather and alcohol, comfort and stability. There were only a handful of customers sitting at tables and around the bar, nodding their greeting as Bear walked past. His father was sitting at a table with two guys from the club, and Bear made a beeline behind the bar, where Bullet was engrossed in something on his phone.
“What’s up?” Bullet didn’t look up from his phone. His thick dark brows were drawn down in concentration. At six five, he was the most intimidating of Bear’s siblings. Bullet had a warrior inside him. The deadly kind that could kill a man with a single punch. Bear had seen his eldest brother get the most formidable of challengers to back down with nothing more than the lethal stare he’d mastered during his years in the Special Forces. But Bear had also seen him bring women to their knees when those ice-cold, coal-black eyes smoldered with seduction.
What’s up? I want to track down some motherfucker and torture him until he can’t breathe, and then I want to help him breathe so I can torture him all over again.
Bear fixed himself a double shot of whiskey. Not trusting himself to give a more civilized answer, he ignored the question. “What’s Pop talking to Viper and Bud about?”
Viper and Bud Redmond were brothers and members of the Dark Knights. They owned the Snake Pit, an upscale bar at the other end of town, as well as Petal Me Hard, a local flower shop.
“From what I can piece together, he’s on another kick to expand Whiskey Bro’s and they’re giving him pointers.”
Their father had talked about expanding the bar on and off for the past few years. It was a good idea, but a major undertaking that Bear knew would fall on his shoulders.
Bullet’s eyes darted to Bear, and he shoved his phone in his pocket. “What the hell happened to you?”
Bear set the glass on the bar and went to the other side, climbing onto a stool, feeling the weight of Crystal’s confession eating away at him. He stared at the amber liquid, which he’d been ready to down three seconds ago.
He pushed the painful reminder of what Crystal had endured across the bar. “Take this away, will ya?”
Bullet grabbed it and downed it in a single gulp and leaned his forearms on the bar, bringing him eye to eye with Bear. “Now I know some shit went down.”
“Yeah, some shit went down all right, but…” I can’t talk about it. His eyes skated around the bar as he replayed the night for the umpteenth time. After he and Crystal left the park, he’d driven her back to her car and then followed her home. He’d walked her up to the door, expecting to go inside and hold her, make her feel safe, but she’d said she just needed to sleep and had apologized profusely. He’d seen the fatigue in her eyes and in the drooping of her shoulders. Where her confession had gutted him and then filled the hole with a fireball of rage and sadness, it had depleted Crystal of all of her energy. It had killed him not to push her to let him stay, but he knew she’d taken a giant leap of faith by trusting him with her secrets, and he vowed to respect her wishes, no matter how hard it was for him.
“But…?” Bullet leveled him with one of his glares. He had the patience of a saint when it came to Tru’s kids, but he had a nose for bullshit and for trouble, and where family was concerned, Bullet didn’t put up with either.
That threatening glare was almost enough to make Bear spill his guts. Almost. But he’d never betray Crystal’s trust. Not even for Bullet.
“Nothing.”
Bullet leaned so close Bear could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Either spill your shit, little brother, or wipe that look off your face. You look like you’re either going to rip someone’s head off, in which case I need to back you up, or you’re going to start tearing shit apart, in which case I need to wrestle you to the ground.”
Bear smirked. “I don’t need backup. I just need advice.”
His brother laughed and pushed off the bar, shaking his head. “That’s a first. You’re usually the armchair psychologist standing on this side of the bar, doling out advice the way hookers dole out blow jobs.”
“No shit.”
“What’s got you so effed up?” Bullet filled a glass with ice water and pushed it across the bar, watching him like a hawk.
Bullet had a way of getting into people’s heads. For that reason, Bear stared at the glass as he spoke. “Thanks. What would you do if someone you cared about was taken advantage of but wanted you to take a step back?”
Bullet laughed again, and in the next second his eyes cast daggers. “No one tells me to take a step back.” He set his palms on the bar, leaning closer again. “You always do what’s right, little brother. It’s that simple.”
“No, bro. It’s that fucking complicated.” He guzzled the water. “It’s Crystal.”