Page 57 of Betraying Bexley

Chapter 10

It took a week for Alé to process what he'd seen in the video. The idea Bex had endured such a trauma on her own, while also having to deal with losing a leg, fucked him up. He thought about the night on the beach and then his bed and wondered how much he or Bronx had pushed the situation on Bex and if she wanted to go as far as they had. Or, if she wanted them to stop, would she have said something? He shook his head, no, as much as she coward away from certain situations she'd also stood up for herself. She'd have told them she wasn't ready. Yet, instead of feeling better, the guilt ate away at him.

Not even when he'd been bangin' had he felt out of his depth like he was with Bex. She was different. He doubted his crew would see her worth, but then again, like her father, they'd probably use her for her brain. Hell, no one would take her for their old lady, and for some reason, that pissed Alé off. Some of the baddest bitches in his gang had been shot, stabbed, raped, and yet they were accepted. However, Bex... To them, she was useless. Not to Alé. For him, she was that bad bitch. She, if she wanted him, would always come first.

Of course, all his posturing didn’t mean shit when the truth about their mission came out. She might see him as a narc or worse, a traitor. She wouldn’t be half wrong either. He’d rolled over on his crew the first chance he received. Not because he didn’t love his crew. He did. He’d die for all of them, but, when his life was on the line, he wondered if they’d have his back like his team did now.

He braced his foot behind him against the wall while waiting for Bex’s class to end, since he’d ditched second period to see her. Today, he was going to ask her on a date. The bell rang and the door to the room opened, drawing his attention. The throng of students filed out, laughing and carrying on while making their way to their next class as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Most of them didn’t. They were oblivious to what happened outside their preppy bubble. Or they simply didn’t care because they had more money than they knew how to spend. It pissed Alé off. They could be doing more to make society better, yet they chose to do nothing. They would be the biggest ones standing behind their pulpit screaming about people like Alé and demanding they—him be locked up. Why? Because those like him had nothing but the gang to support them? Because they never finished high school or turned to gangs for protection? Because they sold drugs to make ends meet? Because they came from broken homes or were impressionable and fell in with the wrong crowd? They, those rich kids, who had everything they wanted and more, would use every fuck stereotype to push their agenda and demonize people like Alé. He waited for the door to open again, then he stepped in front of it. There she stood. Her shoulders sagging. Her head down. Her knuckles were white where they gripped the strap of her tattered backpack. She appeared exhausted. When she glanced up at him, her carob eyes were red-rimmed and smudged in purple from lack of sleep. Her skin had a sickly grey undertone that bothered Alé more than it should. She swayed on her feet and he caught her, pulling her to his chest for balance.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

Since the two sets of killings the FBI had notified R.O.O.T about, Raul had gone to ground. No one had seen him, nor had he made any waves. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t, though. Of everything Alé was sure of, Raul would reappear in Virginia to snatch Bex. She was the last piece. The one person who could end Raul with a stroke of a pencil. In fact, with the knowledge she carried in her brain, she could take down several people. To the cartel, she was a liability. To the government and the FBI, she was a pawn for their games. To Alé and the team, Bex was an outcast like them. She’d been shoved into a den of wolves and would eventually walk out on her own, broken and battered, but would also be one of the baddest bitches he knew.

“S-Sorry.”

“You look like shit,” he teased. “You wanna ditch?”

She glanced up at him. “D-Ditch?”

He nodded. "Take the day off. Grab some food. Do something fun?" Before he joined GIP and SRT, a fun day consisted of tagging some buildings or stealing junk food from the corner market. The worst of his offense though happened after dark, when he could use the shadows to hide.

“F-Fun?”

“A movie? Mini Golf?” He wiggled his brows. “Something I think you might excel at since you like numbers and shit.”

She laughed softly then yawned. “Food.”

“Figured.” He stroked her back. “I have a question for you later too.”

Her head snapped up. Her tired eyes widened. “W-What?”

“It’s not bad. I want to have fun first though.” He guided her out of the entryway and down the hall toward the exit. “Did you eat this morning?”

She gave a sleepy nod.

“Good.” He pushed through the front door and came face to face with Kenner and the other All-Americans. “Fuck.”

“Hey asshole, don’t think I’ve forgotten you stole my car,” Kenner said, lifting his chin in the direction of his buddies.

“We didn’t steal anything. You fuckheads can’t back up your threats.” Alé tucked Bex behind his back before rolling his shoulders. “You’re more than welcome to try to take it back.”

“Mr. Romero. Mr. Williams,” Mateo stood behind them. “Is there an issue here?”

“None whatsoever,” Alé said. “Bex isn’t feeling well, so I offered to take her home so she could rest.” He glanced over his shoulder at the teacher who also happened to be one of their mentors.

“Bex,” Mr. Aquino murmured. “You okay with Alé?”

“Y-Yes.” She fisted the back of Alé’s coat. “I-I asked.”

“I’ll let the office and your teachers know. I’ll drop your homework off later.”

“Look, the faggot teacher even wants a piece of Bex’s stumpy ass.” Kenner chuckled.

Alé stood there, jaw clenched, fists balled up ready to be given the go-ahead to tear Kenner apart. He always loved a good fight today wasn't any different. Instead, Mateo chuckled. He stepped around Bex and Alé, forcing Kenner backward in the direction of the stairs. Alé swore the teacher stood ten feet tall and invincible. This wasn't the mild-mannered man Bex spoke fondly of when they could get her to talk at all. Nor was he the taskmaster who kept them on their toes during the meetings at the base.

“Would you like to say that again to my face, son?” Mateo pulled his glasses off. “I’m afraid with all the commotion inside the school building, I didn’t hear you.”

The corner of Alé’s mouth tugged into a smirk. “Mr. Aquino, should I get another adult to help you?”