Page 73 of Mex

So, I don’t bother. I just look away in defeat.

He laughs, cold and bitter. “You’re fuckin’pathetic. I should have known not to trust you. I should have fuckin’ killed you to begin with.”

“You don’t mean that,” I say, without thought, my voice breaking at the thought of him carrying out such an act and meaning it.

“Oh,” he growls, “Imeanit.”

His words are hurting, they’re penetrating on a level so deep it’ll forever mark my soul.

“I wasn’t doing it to hurt you, Mex. I was doing it because he’s dangerous, and...”

“What are you gettin’ out of this?”

I shake my head, tears burning under my eyelids.

“Answer me?” he thunders, his voice so frightening I take a step back.

With trembling hands, I try to come up with a reason, something that might make sense to him, but nothing I can give will ease the storm brewing inside him.

“I had no choice.”

“Fuckin’ liar,” he snarls, taking my arm again and continuing on his rampage.

“Mex, if you’ll just listen...”

He doesn’t, he just keeps pulling, causing me to trip over my feet. When I fall, he jerks me back up without pause and drags me down the hall.

“Mex,” I plead.

Nothing.

“I killed her,” I scream, my voice cracking as the words flow from my lips.

He pauses now, but he doesn’t look at me.

“I killed my mother.”

Now he turns, his eyes flashing with shock and rage as he stares over at me, his finger biting into the flesh on my upper arm.

“You were never going to find her because she was never here. I killed her before you took me the first time. I didn’t want you or anyone else to know that. Furthermore, I did work with Marek to stop the club looking into him because he is more powerful than you could have ever imagined.”

He doesn’t answer me, he turns and keeps walking, a little slower this time. The tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks as he drags me into the garage, where all the bikers are sitting. Western notices us first, and comes striding over, his eyes on Mex. It’s clear to anyone looking that he’s wild, and it is also noticeably clear it has something to do with me. Swinging me around, Mex shoves me in front of Western as a few other bikers stand, their interest piqued.

“She’s been workin’ with him this whole fuckin’ time,” Mex growls, his voice an icy hiss.

I swallow down the tears, even though my cheeks are soaked with them.

“I meant the club no harm,” I choke out, my voice shaky.

That’s not the entire truth, though. For a time, I did mean them harm. I didn’t care if they were all removed from this world. That changed, though. My heart traded places with my head and I grew to care about the people in this club, most of them anyway. I chose to protect them, and to free myself. Was it selfish? Maybe, but for the first time in my life, it wasn’t entirely about me.

I did it for them, too.

Western doesn’t ask questions, he pulls out his gun and shoves it against my forehead, causing all the air to be sucked from my lungs as I stare at him in fear. I know he’ll kill me, I know it. He won’t even hesitate. The moment the cold steel presses against my forehead, Bonnie leaps up from her position on the sofa, and rushes over to Western, taking his arm and pleading, “Western. Don’t.”

“Back down,” he orders.

“No,” she cries, her face scrunched with fear. “Do not hurt her. You’re not even hearing her side of the story.”

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