Page 38 of The Trust We Broke
She releases my hand. “He was a prospect when he arrived in prison. But he saved Nolan’s life inside because their sentences overlapped for a few months. Nolan got out first and met him on the day of his release with a cut and the road name Grudge because, apparently, he was all about scores he was going to settle when he got out, something to do with…”
It dawns on both of us at the exact same time.
“I’m probably one of the things, reasons, people he holds a grudge against.” The idea that the way I hurt him played into his road name stings.
“Shit. I’ve said too much.”
I shake my head, even as a wave of sadness crashes up against the pride I felt. That Grudge would save his president’s life. There are so many details I want to ask about, but I can seeby the way Greer looks utterly devastated that she won’t reveal another thing today.
“Hey,” I say, more calmly than I feel. “I swear I won’t say a word. Given how the divorce went down, I’d be surprised if hedidn’thave issues with me. Grudge. Revenge. Anger. Could be any of them.”
The sound of a vehicle pulling up the drive makes me jump. “It’s just Nolan. Listen, before he comes in. Let’s do this again. We can avoid the things we can’t and don’t want to talk about. But I’d really like to get to know more about you, Lucy. And in a town like this, with the kind of connections we have to the club, it’s nice to spend time with people who have your back and know the score.”
“I feel the same.”
As I step off the porch, Butcher trudges toward me. Frosty leaves and fresh snow crunch beneath his feet.
As if he senses my intention to hurry past him, he reaches out his arm to stop me. “Lucy,” he says. “You got a second?”
I sigh and clutch the strap of my bag tightly. “If I said no?”
He rolls his eyes. “Then, I’ll say my piece anyway.”
“Fine. What do you want to say?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets as the bitter wind whips around us. “I was there…those first months Grudge was in prison.”
“I know that.” I don’t tell him I learned it from Greer a few minutes ago.
Butcher looks off into the distance for a moment, as if remembering what that was like. Prison isn’t easy for anyone. “I got locked up for trying to bribe a public official. Got two years, was out in eight months. I was close friends with Grudge’s dad and was mentored by his grandfather. So, I knew the kid long before he even prospected. And I remember how much he loved you.”
Those final words hurt as much as if Butcher had slapped me. “Where are you going with this?”
“This isn’t a courthouse. I don’t have to tell you where I’m going with this, and for Grudge’s sake, you’re going to listen to me and pay attention.”
I don’t like being told to pay attention. It implies I don’t. And I’m a grade-A student when it comes to listening. Because people tell you all kinds of things they don’t mean to if you listen well.
“Then get on with it, because I have things I have to do.”
“Three weeks into his sentence, there was an attempt to kill me in the shower block.” He unzips his thick jacket and lifts the hem of his hoodie. There’s a thick scar running across his abdomen. “Grudge saved my life. Never seen a man fight like that, to this day. He took on four of them alone. Never stopped to think about himself or how many of them there were, or what it could mean to him, to his sentence.”
When people say they feel something tug at their heartstrings, they usually mean some metaphorical description rather than the real and painful tightening I feel in my chest. It’s so on brand for the man I love.
Loved.
Shit.
“I’m sorry that happened to you both. Prison is a painful place that rarely addresses any of the problems at hand. And we all know it increases the chance of recidivism.”
“Recidivism?”
“Legal speak for reoffending.”
Butcher sniffs, then looks out over the fields. “Why are you a lawyer if you don’t believe in the concept of prison?”
“I’m a defense attorney. Not a prosecutor. I try to keep people out of prison, not push them into it.”
Butcher looks at me as though seeing me through a different lens. “You’re not like your father.”
