“That’s terrible,” she murmured. If she thought that was terrible, Anteros could guess what she would think about the rest of the story. Still, he’d promised her the truth, so he continued.
“Alcide had been betrothed to a De Luca since birth, but that De Luca was a she. When I first met Alcide, I discovered an affair. I blackmailed him like all the Wolves, but Alcide didn’t stop the affair like I thought when we agreed to work together.” Anteros stopped talking as the memory washed over him. Frankie’s shadow twirled along the wall, dancing in the yellow-orange light. He focused on it, reminding himself why he was cutting open the past and bleeding the ugly truth.
“If this comes out, it will ruin everything,” Anteros said. “End it.”
“You knew this about me. You already knew,” Alcide responded. “You wouldn’t have worked with me if you weren’t okay with it.”
“I don’t give a shit who you want to fuck,” Anteros said. “I give a shit when it fucks with business. End it.”
“I’d never given a shit who the Wolves fucked,” Anteros explained. “Never intervened until that day.” If they hadn’t been trying to climb the ranks and if Alcide hadn’t lived in their world, Anteros wouldn’t have cared.
But they were trying to climb the ranks.
And he did live in their world.
Alcide folded his arms. “I never took you for a homophobe.”
“It’s not about what I want,” Anteros replied. “We don’t get to live in this world unless we live by their rules.”
Frankie hopped off the stool and put a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off. He’d finished the conversation, assuming Crazy A would follow orders. Crazy A had never before questioned or disobeyed him, so he hadn’t thought to question it, didn’t notice the way Crazy A looked that day, or the days following.
“I should have paid attention,” Anteros said, walking away from Frankie. “Years after that day, the Wolves had been established. I was second in command, and we were close to having everything we had ever wanted. We were respected, feared. I assumed the affair was long behind us, didn’t think about it anymore. I was wrong.” Anteros paused as the next part of the stor
y churned in his mind.
Eventually Frankie spoke up. “And then what?”
“I found Alcide kissing the same man.” Frankie took her seat again and he heard the leather squeak as she adjusted, could see her distorted shadow on the wall.
“It was a rainy day, but I saw it clearly,” Anteros continued. “Back then you probably wouldn’t have recognized him. Crazy A wasn’t so thin, he had muscles on his wiry frame. People even thought he was handsome.” Anteros stopped again as the memory took over, and this time Frankie waited silently for him to come out of it. The vision of Crazy A underneath a building awning was blazing. He’d smiled as it rained, the man he was with cupping his cheek. Even back then, Crazy A never smiled.
“I waited a few weeks,” Anteros continued, “watched them to be sure it wasn’t a one-time thing. I didn’t blackmail Alcide that time. I gave him a choice, a choice that would eventually destroy everything.”
Anteros placed a hand on the wall, recalling the events that came next. He focused on the way the shadow flickered, voice robotic.
“We’re this close to having everything. Do you realize what this could do if it gets out?” Anteros asked. Alcide folded his arms and looked away, breathing through his nose.
“Maybe I don’t want the same things anymore.”
“And?” Frankie asked, and Anteros realized he’d been lost in the memory. He wasn’t sure if he should continue. He didn’t want Frankie to see him differently. He hadn’t realized how reliant, how fucking dependent, he’d grown to the way she looked at him.
As if she knew what he was thinking, she added, “You don’t have to.”
“I went into another room and dragged his lover out.” Frankie gasped, but he pressed on. “I threw him on the ground.” The man’s fearful gaze had shot from Anteros to Crazy A before locking with Crazy A, the Wolf’s jaw clenched so hard it looked like he might break his teeth.
“Alcide, baby, what is going on?” the man asked.
“He doesn’t know?” Anteros asked. “About your life?”
“Everything’s going to be all right,” Crazy A responded, ignoring Anteros.
“Then what?” Frankie asked.
“I pulled out my gun, checked the bullets, cocked it, and handed it to Crazy A.”
“Shoot him,” Anteros instructed. Anteros remembered how the man had rambled, asking more questions, but never cried or screamed. He was simply confused. He’d been bound and dragged to the warehouse and was about to get shot. It made sense, he was a civilian in an underground world.
Crazy A leveled the gun at Anteros. “I like this idea better.”