Page 63 of Preacher

"Did you set out that night to hurt him?"

"Fuck no. Hell, I didn't want to fight. But, babe, there's only so much you can push a man before he snaps, and he pushed me too fuckin' far."

"What else happened? I have a feeling you've got a lot more to tell me," she says softly. The back off stance has gone, thankfully, and she's engaging with me. She's not so standoff-ish any longer.

"A few years back, that asshole's brother met us in a club. He wanted revenge, so he baited me into a fight, and Christ, I gave into him and did it. I beat him just as I did his brother. I swear to you, babe, I don't have an anger problem." I need her to realize that it's not a common occurrence.

She nods. I see that she believes me and I'm glad of it. If she didn't, I'm not sure where we'd go from here.

"That fucker set me up. He called the cops, and when Reaper, my brother, came out of the club, the sirens sounded. Reaper did something that I'll never be able to repay. He took the fall and said he was the one who had the fight with the ass."

"Oh wow," she cries, her tears falling once again.

"He served four years in prison for me, Ailbhe. Had it been me who pleaded guilty, I would have been serving hard time."

"He's a good friend, Preacher. The man loves you."

I close my eyes. God... "You've no idea just how much." I inhale deeply. "I was buried in guilt. My best friend went to prison for me. So I drank myself into a stupor. I found my solace at the bottom of a bottle. I couldn't function with the guilt that I had. When Reaper was released, he set me straight. I was able to work through it all. He was out and he was home. I wasn't feeling as bad as I had when he was inside."

"I bet. That's a lot of guilt to carry. I'm not sure I'd have been able to handle it."

"Did you meet the club whores?" I ask, and her brows narrow once again, but she nods. "In New York, there was a woman named Pepper. She was someone everyone got along with. She never got attached and was a great time." I sigh when I see the hurt slash through her eyes. I get it. Had she spoken about another guy, I'd be pissed. "Pepper got pregnant, and she was five months along before she told anyone. She was playing the brothers, not letting anyone know who the father was. It was fucked up."

"You?" she asks softly.

I nod. "She told me I was the dad. Pepper wasn't as stable as we thought. She was doin' drugs, drinkin', and fuckin' anyone who walked. She was a cunt. Even the day she gave birth to Tyson she was off her face on drugs, babe. She was high as a fuckin' kite as she was deliverin' my son."

"What?" she hisses. "Oh fuck. Where's your boy now?"

I don't answer the question. Not yet anyway. "Tyson was born addicted to drugs. He spent the first weeks of his life in the hospital. He was a fighter."

She grins. "Hence the name."

"Hence the name. He's a fighter and he deserved the name of one. I killed Pepper, Ailbhe. I killed her with my bare hands. That's the man that I am. I don't make excuses for who I am and I won't apologize for it."

"I'm not stupid, Preacher. I've always known there is a darkness within you."

"One day, when Tyson was a couple months old, one of my brother's told me that Tyson wasn't mine. That he couldn't be due to our blood types."

"No," she whispers. "Oh God, Preacher, please no. Tell me he was lying?"

"He wasn't," I say through a lump in my throat. "He was tellin' the truth. Tyson isn't my son. In fact, he's Reaper's."

She closes her eyes, and her chest heaves as the tears fall. "Oh God."

"I had planned on running, taking my boy and running. Then I found out that Reaper was his father and I couldn't do that to him." I swallow back the tears. Fuck, talking about this is fucking hard. "Reaper had known that Tyson was his, and he was willing to let me continue to raise him."

"You have the best fucking friends."

I chuckle. "I do. But I couldn't keep his son from him, so I left and ended up here. I went back so that Reaper could kick my ass and help me get my head on straight. I'm so fucked up from the past that I kept hurting you with what I was saying."

She's silent for a moment. "I get why you're the way you are. It doesn't excuse the way you've treated me, but I understand it. I'm pregnant with your child, Preacher, and the test results are due any day now. I'm not angry anymore that you asked. In fact, I'm glad we're getting them done so there's no question. I'm an emotional wreck, and I was hurt thinking you didn't trust me."

Relief washes through me. The baby's okay. Thank fucking God.

"I do," I tell her emphatically. "I'm just fucked up."

She nods. "If you want to be a part of our child's life, then no more drinking." She holds up her hand to stop me from speaking when I open my mouth. "You do drink a lot. You've told me as much. I want my baby to have a dad who’s happy and alive. So please, think about it."

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