Page 63 of Cutter

“Are you sure?”

“Might as well.” He nodded. “In time, insecurity, money problems, and alcohol made a bad combination. Throw in jealousy. He’d noticed someone looking at Mom at the supermarket, and our lives became a living hell. That’s when the beatings began.”

Resting his chin on a raised fist, he took a long breath. The ache in his throat surprised him. He thought he’d be able to put some distance between the past and himself to explain. Not so. Internally, he was a wreck. Dammit. He refused to let the tears win.

Emily left her chair without a word, went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and gave it to him before she sat down again.

“Thanks, baby.” He gulped half the water. That gave him enough of a break to catch himself and continue despite the vise poised at his throat. “I tried, you know… I did my best to get in the way of his blows…to protect her. But I wasn’t enough.”

Wiping a rebellious tear, he stood and leaned his back against the counter.

“Cutter, no,” she exclaimed. “Don’t torture yourself. You were a boy trying to protect your mother from an abusive drunk. And a big man, from what you tell me. You never had a chance against him. It’s a miracle he didn’t kill you both.”

“He got close enough,” Cutter growled.

Emily’s face went pale. “What does that mean?”

“Means that I wasn’t in the car the day he plowed it into a wall.”

Gasping, she covered her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Some crazy guardian angel wanted me to live, because instead of going home straight from school, I’d stopped next door. I was doing stuff with Robbie—that was Blade’s old nickname—when it happened. We lived next to each other.”

“That saved you.”

“It did. During the investigation, no one could get a clear picture of what had happened. But I know. Impatience and arrogance killed Milo. He’d earned a degree in chemical engineering, but did he use it? Nope. He didn’t want to work under anyone, and moving up the ranks was too slow for him. He bought two businesses that were complete failures.”

Feeling more composed, Cutter returned to the table. “Selfish bastard couldn’t go alone. He had to take my mother with him. They said she died instantly, and I was relieved. She’d suffered enough in life.”

“How old were you? What happened after that?”

“I was twelve. Social services got involved and attempted to place me. My mother’s family was living in Spain. Sure as shit, I didn’t want to go. Plus, there was this thing about jurisdiction, a foreign country, blah, blah, blah.” Taking one last gulp, he finished the water.

“Milo’s family was contacted. His mother agreed to take me, but she wasn’t happy about it and made it very clear to the authorities. Blade’s parents intervened. The Johnstons are a wonderful, caring couple. I used to spend more time in their home than mine. Whenever Milo went into a frenzy, I’d hide with them. Milo’s mother agreed to the Johnstons’ offer. Child Services called it a private decision between families and bowed out. Blade and I grew up like brothers.”

“Now I understand,” she said, nodding. “Blade and his family stepped in when you needed help the most. Taking the blame for the fight was your way to protect your friend. Give back some of what he gave you.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m some kind of hero. I’m not.” He frowned. “Taking the blame was a calculated risk. I didn’t have any priors. My record was clean. The chances of getting released with a warning were almost guaranteed. Who knew the DA would be so hungry?” He kept the part about Blade becoming a brand-new father to himself.

“That DA is dirty. I know it,” Emily said. “I’ve put together a few theories about him. The minute I get solid proof, I’ll show the captain. He’ll take it from there. By the way, how do you know the lingo and the process so well?”

“I’m interested, and I have a JD degree.”

She sat up. “You what?”

“Surprised?” He smiled. “Though I concentrated in business law, I poked around in criminal law, but didn’t take the bar exam. Too busy doing MC stuff and keeping members in line. Per my job description as sergeant-at-arms.”

“But you could.”

“If I wanted, yes.”

“You are full of surprises, Mr. Luka Cutter Zejak.”

“Now you’ve hit my hard limit, Emily Mayhew. I’m Cutter. Not the other name.”

“Sorry. That was insensitive. Your distaste for the name makes sense. I won’t do it again. But why don’t you change it? Make it official.”

“Laziness. Maybe I’ll wake up one of these days and go file the paperwork.”

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