I’ve never seen Alexander act the way he did tonight - mercilessly throwing punches and disfiguring Jackson’s face. I’m sure the man deserved it, but that doesn’t make it right. After he was stable again, I called a cab and paid the fare for him, no matter how many times Alexander told me not to.
Now, it’s just him and I sitting on the bed in my silent room. I can’t even think of the right words to say. More importantly, I can’t form the one question I want to ask - what did Jackson bring up that made Alexander so angry? I fear that I already know the answer.
“Well, that was-”
Alexander puts up his hand, the gesture stopping me mid-sentence. Hurt fills my chest and I grow quiet again.
“How could you not tell me?”
The quizzical expression is fierce, piercing my gut like the sharp blade of a knife.
“Tell you what?”