Page 11 of Pound

“Trip. Enough!”

“Oh, are we done with family time already, prez?” He sneered the last word.

“Cris, emotions are high, so we’ll table your attitude for now, but once Meri is safe, I’ll address your disrespect.” Granite took a deep breath. He was seconds away from throwing a punch of his own. That was saying something since Gran… Wes was about as even as they came. “Now sit down and shut the fuck up and listen. All of you.”

Thunder and Taps let go of Pound and returned to the bar.

“Joe, you need to add some clarity, brother.”

“Was.” He met Cris’s gaze. “Was my brother-in-law. His sister’s dead. I killed her, and if he finds out that I’m connected to Meri in any way, I don’t think he’ll pass up the opportunity to use her to hurt me.”

There, he’d said it. That’s all they needed to know, but of course, Cris and Wes were pickers. They’d pick at the wound until it was raw and bloody.

The silence was deafening. All eyes looked at him in disbelief. They didn’t hurt women, yet he’d just confessed to killing one. He deserved their scorn or anything else they threw his way, but nothing came. No disgust, no cursing, just silence.

Pound couldn’t take the accusing silence any longer. “There it is. That’s why my cut’s in there”—he pointed to church—“and I’m heading that way.” Pound turned toward the front door. He needed to clear his head. He couldn’t do that with his brothers—ex-brothers—staring at him, waiting.

“You didn’t kill her, Joe. It was an accident. One of her own design.”

Wes’ words stopped him in his tracks. He wanted to take another step and another, but his boots were welded to the floor. It was words Wes had already said to him many times over the years. And every single time, Pound nodded to extract himself from the conversation, but he never believed it. Not in his heart. There wasn’t room for acceptance, all the space was taken up with guilt.

This was the first time he wanted to believe them though.

“You say that, Wes, because you’re my friend, and I appreciate you for it, but I knew what I was doing.”

He had known all too well. Lea handled confrontation the same way every single time. First came the crocodile tears and vile insults. When those failed to inflict enough pain, she used her fists. When he was alone with just his thoughts, he’d replay that night in his head. More often than not, he questioned his motives for starting that fight.

“Fuck, Joe, you can’t blame yourself for her actions. I’ve watched you do it for years and I just can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. I’ve respected your wishes and sat silent as you punished yourself long enough. I’m done.”

“Joe.” Pound was sure that was the first time Trip had called him by his given name. The tone of his voice gave him pause, but it unstuck his boots. He turned to face him. “You claimed my sister. As unconventional as it was, you obviously have some feelings for her. I’m not saying I’m okay with any of it, but considering… I think I have a right to know about this. About Lea.”

He spoke with concern but also with a touch of compassion. Something Joe hadn’t had for himself in a really long fucking time.

“There’s not much to tell. She’s dead because of me. She was in a medically induced coma for months before she finally died. By then, well, nothing really mattered. And I’m not, by the way.”

“Not what?” He heard the confusion in Cris’ voice. Not just for the last, but the vagueness of it all.

“Not claiming your sister. It was a knee-jerk reaction and I’m sorry. But seeing as I’m no longer your veep, the claim is void.”

So was his heart. For a moment, that split second when he’d called her his ol’ lady, he’d felt an inner peace he hadn’t known was possible.

“Bullshit.” Granite threw his cut at him, and he caught it before it slid to the floor. “You’re still my vice, and you still uttered a claim in church. Whether she’ll have you or not is up to her and you, but the rest isn’t. You must approach all members and lobby for them to vote if you want out. I won’t discuss it further until you do.”

All the brothers gave a hear, hear. That sense of family washed over him again and he shrugged his second skin back on.

Granite clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re not responsible for her death. You have to see that. Tell them. Tell them and see what they say. If they agree with you, I’ll back off and never mention it again.”

“Fuck,” he shouted and dragged his hands down his face. “I found out she’d cheated on me. I waited until we were driving home from dinner, and I brought it up. She reacted exactly as I knew she would and started slapping and punching me. Instead of slowing down or pulling over, I sped up. We went into a curve, and she punched me in my ear. My head was ringing, and I lost control of the car. We spun out, went through the guardrail.”

Pound strode to the bar and grabbed the bottle next to Taps and he didn’t protest. After a healthy swig, he took a fortifying breath and sat on the couch.

“We were stuck for twenty-seven minutes. Twenty-seven long minutes. There was so much blood. Hers, mine. She was slipping in and out, so I had to keep her talking. In doing so, she said things I can never forget. Things that will stick with me until the day I die. When they finally pulled us from the wreckage, she wasn’t talking anymore.”

“That’s enough, veep. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” Priest. He was the best of them all. “You’re not responsible for what happened. I think we all agree.”

As he scanned the room, all his brothers were nodding in understanding.

“Even if I picked the fight hoping it would end, for myself at least?” That was a question he still couldn’t answer even after all these years. There were times he’d convinced himself he hoped to die that night. If not, why didn’t he slow or pull over? He did every other time she lost her shit in the car.

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