I have to be careful who I let into my world from now on.
Dana equated him with Tommy and he couldn’t blame her. The greatest love of her life had let her down. Why would some Vegas hookup be any different?
And yet she’d said herself she thought he was the better man. He wanted to be the better man but he’d never be able to prove it if she didn’t give him a chance.
Alex had asked Dana for honesty but he hadn’t come clean either, not about everything.
His secret shame burned a hole in his chest. The flames stung so much he dared not even think about it for too long. Shannon’s death, and the haze of forgetfulness that surrounded it, tormented him on an almost constant basis. The humiliation of having his name bandied about in the rag magazines had driven him deep into a hole.
But no one knew the worst part. He, alone, carried that burden.
Some days, he wondered if it might kill him.
“Jesus.” As he approached Vice from behind, he bent over to tie his shoe. “You are so fucked up.”
He knew his sense of guilt was playing with him again. When he was angry, it got the better of him. It would pass. It always passed.
But he did have to make some decisions. He’d suggested Dana decide what she wanted out of life, as far as children.
He needed to do the same.
His heart pumping, sweat dripping down his back, Alex walked into the alley outside the administrative hallway. The alley was empty, as usual, and he welcomed the peace and quiet. The only people who used it were employees on their smoke breaks.
It was dark there, even in the daytime, but he just wanted to do a short cooldown before heading back to his apartment. Walking slowly, hands on hips, he paced the alley.
It might actually be a bit too dark there. He’d get some lighting installed so his staff didn’t have to smoke while looking over their shoulders.
One more item on the to-do list.
Alex rolled his head to stretch out his neck muscles.
Only then, did he notice the shadow in the furthest corner of the alley.
He froze.
The shadow spoke. “It’s been a long time, Alex.”
“Gordon? Is that you?”
Shannon’s brother emerged, clean-shaven and his head shaved. His lack of hair made him appear slimmer, almost gaunt in comparison, and nothing like the hairy, beefy man Alex had known. This man could walk right into Vice, past the undercover cops, and no one would connect him to the Dean family.
Even in the low light of the alley, Alex could see Gordon held a crowbar. His fist was tight around its base, his knuckles straining.
“You should probably put that down, friend.”
“Friend. That’s hilarious.”
“The cops are looking for you.”
“I know.”
Alex took a step back.
“Don’t even think of running.”
Alex opened his arms wide. “You want to hit me with that thing?”
Gordon slapped the crowbar against his other palm. “I haven’t decided yet. Truth is, I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time. It’s been playing in my head on a loop, only with different outcomes every time. Sometimes I shoot you. Sometimes I stab you. But most of the time, I pound your head on the floor, making you bleed the way Shannon did.”
