Page 37 of The Trust We Broke
“Good.”
“So, if we’re now friends, can I ask? What happened?”
I sigh. “I had a run-in with two of the Rebels Motorcycle Club.”
Greer grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Oh my gosh. Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Do you need medical assistance?”
I shake my head. “Scared me a little, but they didn’t lay a finger on me.” The memory of my assault from all those years ago flickers through me. If I survived that, I could get through this.
Greer nods. “I’ve been on the receiving end of one of their visits. It isn’t fun. How did you get away?”
“I ran.” I sigh, again. “And Grudge.”
The corners of Greer’s mouth turn up in a grin. “Grudge, huh?”
“He saw them off, and then, yelled at me. You already saw from our meeting a month ago that we have history.”
“No shit.” Greer says. “I think everyone in the police lot four weeks ago could see that. I don’t know the other men all that well, yet, but I’ve never seen a man that riled before.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “Most people in the lot were probably there when we detonated.”
“How long were the two of you together for?”
I think about the question. “Deliberately, two heady years. But in reality, we were friends for a really long time before we ever kissed. He was the year above me in school, and, one day, he saw me being tormented by a bully in my year. He stepped in, smacked the kid around a little. Then, told me to go find him if the bully tried anything else.”
“And I’m guessing you did?”
“I became his shadow. I only ever felt safe when I could reach out and touch him.”
Greer hugs her coffee to her chest and leans back on the sofa. “I know how that feels.” She turns her head to face me. “You ever wonder about the dichotomy of it? Like, you feel safe with them, but safe in the roughest and toughest possible world they live in?”
“Is that how you met Butcher?”
“I’m not sure how much he’d be comfortable with me sharing, but let’s just say that I helped Butcher medically, and somewhere along the way, this happened.” She rubs a hand over her still-flat stomach. “I planned to walk away, but then, I ended up in a mess and Butcher took care of it.”
I put my mug down and cover my ears. “La, la, la, la, la.”
Greer chuckles. “You’re squeamish about the topic of sex?”
“God, no. I’m squeamish about you telling me things about messes Butcher took care of and not being able to unhear them if you ever need a lawyer again.”
Greer grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Well, let’s assume you asked what the mess was, and I told you that my…” She looks around the room, and her eyes land on a large cardboard box. “Dishwasher. That my dishwasher leaked, and that’s what he took care of.”
“Understood. That’s very good of him.”
“I thought so. So, what happened between you and Grudge?”
“We were married. And now we aren’t.”
Greer’s jaw drops open. “Grudge was married. How did I not know that?”
I look out the window, at the wide expansive view I’ve missed. Snowflakes begin to tumble lazily from the sky. I find myself wanting to be here when the pines droop from the weight of it on their branches. Greer reaches for my hand. “Did he cheat on you?”
“That’s what most people assume. But no, he didn’t. I was headed to college in Massachusetts, I had a place at Harvard for undergrad and stayed there for law school, and he was headed to prison. I don’t want to say anything Grudge would be uncomfortable with me saying.”
Greer is holding my hand, but she squeezes it. “I knew he’d been to prison. It’s partly why he’s now president.”
“It is?”
