Bugger releases Kent, and I slowly climb to my feet, walking carefully toward my boyfriend. “Kent,” I whisper, fighting a sudden onslaught of tears. “It’s me.” I hold my hands up when I see the wild, crazy look in his eyes. “It’s okay. We’re going to fix this.” I take a step back so I’m not crowding him. His eyes narrow, and he stumbles a little, glaring at the motionless body of my foster brother on the floor. Then his gaze swings to mine, and he pins that dark, menacing glare on me. “Honey. It’s me.” I try to get through to him again, keeping my hands raised as errant tears flow down my face. For a few seconds, the rage drops off his face, replaced with the most tormented expression I’ve ever born witness to. His pain is visceral, and a sob rips from my throat.
I can’t believe this is happening.
I want to be sick.
But I’ve got to be strong.
Confusion clouds my mind again, and a throbbing pain pierces my skull.
“Kent.” I risk taking a step closer, and his eyes turn to anger again.
He staggers back a few steps. “Stay the fuck away from me, Pres.”
His words baffle me, but I power on. “Let me help you.”
His lips curl into a snarl. “I think you’ve done enough,” he hisses.
What the hell does that mean?
Bugger sends him a pointed look, and Kent nods. My brows knit together as my gaze bounces between them. Kent sends one last daggered look in my direction before racing out the door.
“Kent!” I scream, running after him. “Stop.”
A meaty arm pulls me back. “Let him go,” Bugger whispers in my ear. “He needs to get out of here because it won’t take long for word to reach The Vipers.”
“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?” I hiss, slamming my elbow back into his stomach. “Why the fuck do you think I want to go after him?” Bugger wheezes, but his hold on me doesn’t falter. “Bugger, please,” I plead, tears pouring down my face. “I love him! I need to go after him.”
“You’re going to get him killed. Probably yourself too, but it’s your funeral.” He lets me go, and I whirl around, glaring at him. “You and me are going to talk.” I prod him in the chest before my gaze darts around the room. Most everyone has their phones out, recording. “Shut the doors, and no one leaves until we have their cell phones,” I instruct.
“I’m on it,” he says, and I run outside, pulling the inner door shut behind me. I sprint out onto the sidewalk in time to see Kent’s SUV tearing off up the road, tires squealing as he floors it away. “Fuck.” I grab fistfuls of my hair, ignoring the almost overwhelming urge to bang my head against the wall.
Fear threatens to suffocate me as I jog back inside. Mo is rounding up all the cell phones while old Tommy pats everyone down. Bugger watches the proceedings with sharp eyes, his gun out and pointed at the pissed-off patrons. Thank fuck it wasn’t busy tonight.
“Listen up,” I holler, addressing the customers. “You will get your phones back after we’ve wiped them.”
“You have no fucking right,” Cherie slurs, planting her hands on her hips as she glares at me.
“I have every fucking right,” I bark, putting my face all up in the bottle-blonde’s. “And you do not want to fuck with me right now.”
Sirens blare in the distance, and I urge Mo to hurry up with my eyes. “No one speaks a word of what went down here tonight. Not to the medics, the cops, or The Vipers.”
Most Mattapan residents distrust the cops, so I’m not worried about them ratting Kent out to the authorities. The Vipers are my main concern, and chances are someone has already tipped them off, but I’ve got to try to contain this; otherwise, Kent is a dead man walking. “I will have one thousand dollars in cash for each of you next week provided you don’t speak.” That gets their attention. To most folks, that’s a lot of money. Including me, and even if I have to pay it out of my savings, I will do whatever is necessary to protect Kent because I know he didn’t go psycho for no reason.
Bile swims up my throat as I glance to where Clay still lies unconscious on the ground. My heart is splintered, torn in two. There can be only one reason why Kent reacted like that, and I can’t even let my mind go there. I can’t believe the guy I’ve looked up to my whole life was involved in whatever happened to the man I love.
But it’s the only explanation that makes sense.
Kent would have killed Clay if Bugger hadn’t restrained him.
The rage I witnessed the night of the wedding, when I accidentally touched him where I shouldn’t, pales in comparison to the rage I saw on his face tonight.
The events are connected.
They’ve got to be.
As much as I don’t want to think it, it seems likely that Clay hurt Kent or he was there when someone else did. And if that’s true, he’s going to fucking pay for it.
There is a teeny tiny part of me clinging to the hope that he’s pissed at Clay for some other reason.I know Clay’s been messed up in all kinds of stuff and he’s far from innocent, but this?I can’t see him doing it. So, maybe Claywasthere, and Kent recognized him and took his aggression out on the wrong person.
