I press my hand to his, palm to palm, fingers to fingers. “Have you ever raped anyone?”
“No.” His voice is even.
“Have you ever killed an innocent person?”
“Not…not on purpose. In Iraq it was…it wasn’t always clear who…” his voice actually shakes, ever so slightly. “Who was a combatant. But an innocent person in cold blood? No.”
“Have you ever hit a woman?”
He shakes his head. “Fuck no. Saw that shit. Wasn’t just me that got kicked around—saw girls and women get kicked around, too. Nothing makes me see fuckin’ red faster than a man layin’ a hand on a woman.”
“Would you ever hurt me?”
His hand spasms, clutches mine so hard I gasp in pain. “Cut my own throat first,” he whispers, choked, almost a gurgle, tight, harsh.
I wiggle my hand in his, and he loosens his grip. I take his hand and put it to my cheek. “Is all of that behind you?”
“All of what?” he whispers.
“Gangs. Killing.”
“That’s why I’m here.” He lets out a breath. “Seen our tats?”
“The Broken Arrows.” I see his, on the inside of his bicep, same place as Kane’s. I trace it. It’s raised, the skin under the ink—almost as if… “Is this…abrand?”
“Branded and inked. Took a vow. All of us who wear this took the vow.” He speaks as if reciting something. “Once you’re in, you’re all the way in, no going back. Never take a life. Loyalty to the brotherhood above all.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
He hesitates. “And I can’t really explain it. Not my place. Just means, in answer to your question, I took a vow that I’d never take another life. Beyond anything else I may be, I’m a man of my word. I’ll never break that vow. So yeah, Myka. All that is behind me.”
“You said you have enemies who would hurt me to get to you.”
He growls. “Going for all the shit, huh?”
“This directly affects me, so…yeah.”
“After I got out of the Recons, I was…in a bad place. I went back to the only thing I knew.”
“A gang.”
“A cartel,” he corrects. “And those bastards don’t forget. And I know shit about them. I wouldn’t snitch, but they don’t like the loose end.”
“How real is the danger to me?”
“Pretty real. Why I tried so hard to keep you away. It really is in your best interests to forget me. Forget this club. Forget the guys.”
I close my eyes. “I wish I could, Rev.”
“You can.”
I touch his jaw. “Rev.”
He looks at me. “Myka?”
“After what we just shared, you think I can walk away?”
His eyes close. “You should.”
