Page 27 of Last One Standing (Saint Brothers #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

KONA

Leo was dead. I heard Angel confirm it through the speaker. Noel grimaced and offered his condolences, but a huge part of me had known they wouldn’t find him alive. It wasn’t Brick’s style. If you were no longer useful, you were permanently removed.

I listened as the brothers went back and forth over what to do. In the end, they cleaned up any trace of them being there and drove a mile out. Using a burner phone, they made an anonymous phone call to the authorities.

“It’ll be interesting to see how they deal with this,” Noel mumbled as he typed.

“Because you believe the cops are in Brick’s pocket?” Brick didn’t talk a lot of club business in my presence, but I’d seen him conversing with a few police in town here and there.

“Oh, I’m sure of it. The fact that no one in the MC was arrested after we set the factory ablaze, with all that illegal shit in there, tells me that. I wonder, though, with this happening following that, maybe they’ll be forced to do something.”

“And you want them arrested?” I’d been under the impression that the brothers were planning to kill every member of the Dead Kings.

“We want them distracted, on edge. They will have so much coming at them from all angles that when the dust settles there are so few of them left, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.” Noel grinned and if I hadn’t known he was actually a nice guy, I’d have suspected he was a psychopath.

“I see.”

Noel had a drone a fair distance away, and in stealth mode, which was far too high-tech for me to fathom. We watched as four police cars descended on the abandoned barn. It was obvious the MCs that were there were dead since even I could see one dead on the ground.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the monitor. I watched every movement the police made, wondering if Brick had every one of them on his payroll. What would that mean for the brothers if Brick turned the cops onto them?

“You assume there aren’t some cops that would be relieved the Kings were dead.” I jolted at the sound of Angel’s voice. I hadn’t realized I’d voiced my worry aloud nor that he had returned. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. I was engrossed.” I motioned to the screen. “I didn’t hear you all come in.”

His chin dipped. “I’m real sorry about your friend, Kona.”

A sniffling sound to my left caught my attention. Pika was on the couch, knees to his chest, crying.

“Pika,” I whispered and went over to him.

As soon as I sat he rested his head on my lap, careful of my ribs.

Pika liked Leo. He’d always been kind to Pika, the only person at the club who actually listened to him when he’d go on and on about something he was interested in.

Even if Leo hadn’t known what Pika was talking about, he’d listened.

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Kona,” Pika cried.

“No, baby brother, he didn’t.” I ran my fingers through his hair and kept my gaze on Angel. “And I promise, the Dead Kings will live up to their name.”

With a curt nod, Angel left the room, and I stayed with Pika while he mourned his friend.

That night, I lay in my room, staring at the ceiling, wondering how this would all really end. Would the Saint brothers prevail, or would Brick? And if Brick did, what would that mean for me and Pika?

A light knock surprised me. It was eleven-thirty, and as far as I knew, most everyone had gone to bed. Pika had cried himself to exhaustion by the end of the day and was out like a light. Even if it was him, he’d come through the adjoining door.

“Come in,” I said loudly. Nothing happened, so I shouted again.

The door opened and Angel popped his head inside. “I realized after I knocked I wouldn’t hear you; the rooms are soundproof. Did I wake you?”

I shook my head, shocked to see him. “Everything okay?”

He held up a small bottle. “Forgot your pain pills.”

“Oh.” Was that disappointment I was feeling? Why, Kona, did you think he was coming in for a booty call with you all black and blue, still?

“Do you have water?” He entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Yeah.” I took the glass beside me.

He shuffled closer, and I watched every movement he made. His brows furrowed as he tackled the childproof cap, his lower lip jutting out slightly in concentration. He was a beautiful man even when frustrated.

“Here you go.” He tipped the bottle, and two pills tumbled into the palm of my hand.

“Thanks.”

I took them, surprised when Angel just stood there.

“Was there something else?”

He sighed and rubbed his bald head. Seriously, not just anyone could pull off the look, but Angel gave the best of them a run for their money.

“Have a seat, Angel.” I gestured to the huge bed.

“Oh…uhh.” I didn’t miss the way his eyes darted to the spot next to me, where a lover might lie, before flipping to the end. “Sure.”

“What’s on your mind, Angel?”

“I saw how you were taking care of Pika.” He didn’t so much blurt it out, but it was as if Angel wasn’t sure how to talk to me all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing that for a long time. After our mother died, he had a lot of trouble dealing with it.”

He cocked his head. “How’d you handle yourself during that time?”

“Me?” The question took me by surprise. “Uh, I mean, I was devastated. She was my mom, and I loved her. But?—”

“But Pika needed you, so you just suppressed it all and let him feel while you didn’t?”

Well, damn . “I didn’t have the luxury to fall apart, Angel.”

He looked down for a beat, and then his soulful brown eyes met mine. “How about now?”

“Now what?”

“How about you fall apart now?”

I scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you need to, Kona.” He shifted on the bed turning to face me better. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure?” He was bouncing all over the place, and I was just trying to follow.

“I had a sister once, even a mother and father.”

Oh, he was getting personal. “Something happened to them, and that’s how you ended up in foster care?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “They were my foster parents. Scarlett was in the same foster home with us.”

“I…okay.” I sat back, wanting to reach out to him because I had a feeling this story was going to be heartbreaking. I could see in his expression that just talking about it was hurting him.

“I don’t talk about this much—ever, really. But I think you’ll understand everything I’m about to tell you, and when I’m done, maybe you’ll allow yourself to fall apart a little bit.”

I nodded and listened to his story.