Page 32 of Wings (Heavy Kings MC #5)
They continued discussing implications, but included me in the conversation. When Thor asked about hospital security, they listened to my assessment. When Duke questioned whether other staff might have noticed my supply gathering, they took my analysis seriously.
I wasn't decoration or liability. I was an asset, contributing intelligence that mattered.
"We'll need to change protocols," Duke decided eventually. "New locations, varied times. Can't have them mapping our patterns."
"I can help with that," I offered, then caught myself. Old habits, waiting for permission to contribute.
But Duke just nodded. "Good. You know the hospital rhythms better than anyone. Work with Gabe on alternatives."
Work with Gabe. Not have Gabe handle it, not stay out of it for my own safety. Partnership.
"The Serpents are escalating," Thor observed, cracking his knuckles in a way that promised violence. "First approaching our people, now surveillance. They're testing boundaries."
"Let them test. It’s what they do." Duke's smile was all predator. "We'll be ready." He looked at me again, expression thoughtful. "You did good, Kiara. Spotting the threat, reporting immediately. That's exactly what we needed."
The praise from the club president himself should have felt overwhelming. Instead, it felt right. Like puzzle pieces clicking into place, like finding where I fit in this dangerous world I'd chosen.
"Thank you," I managed, voice steady despite the emotion churning underneath.
"Don't need to thank me. You've more than earned your place here." Duke's attention shifted to Gabe. "Take her home. She looks dead on her feet. We'll implement new protocols starting tomorrow."
Gabe stood, and I followed, but Thor's voice stopped us at the door.
"Kiara?" The big man's scarred face was serious. "That thing with Connor at the restaurant. Anyone gives you trouble like that again, you tell us immediately. Don't care if it seems small. We protect our own."
Our own. The words followed me out of the office, warming places that had been cold for years. I belonged here. Not as someone's girl, not as a liability to be managed, but as part of the family.
Gabe's hand found mine as we walked back to his truck, fingers interlacing with familiar ease.
"You were perfect in there," he said quietly. "Calm, clear, professional. Duke was impressed."
"I was terrified," I admitted.
"Didn't show." He opened my door again, but caught my waist before I could climb in. "You know what this means, right? Duke including you like that?"
I looked up at him, reading the pride and possession in those hazel eyes. "It means I'm really part of this. Part of the club."
"Part of everything," he corrected, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "My partner in all of it."
Partner. The word lodged behind my ribs next to all the others he'd given me. Baby girl. Good girl. Brave. Each one rewriting years of programming that said I was too much trouble, too dramatic, too everything except what I actually was.
Valued. Trusted. His.
“Now, how about a drink?”
The clubhouse common room hummed with its usual evening chaos—someone's bike rumbling in the bay, classic rock bleeding from the jukebox, the crack of pool balls from the back corner. But for once, I wasn't on the edges watching it all happen.
I'd claimed a spot at the big wooden table that dominated the center of the room. My new coloring book spread open before me, the one Gabe had picked out with dragons and fairies and intricate Celtic knots. A rainbow of crayons scattered across the scarred wood like confetti.
"That purple is gorgeous," Mia said from beside me, looking up from her wedding magazine. "Really makes the wings pop."
I hummed agreement, too deep in little space to form real words. The dragon I was working on had these elaborate wings—all swirls and patterns that demanded different shades of purple and blue. My tongue poked out in concentration as I layered colors, building depth and intensity.
"She's been at it for an hour," Mandy observed from my other side, her laptop open to some spreadsheet that made my head hurt to look at. "Completely zoned out. It's kind of adorable."
Normally, being talked about like I wasn't there would spike anxiety. But wrapped in the soft cocoon of little space, their voices just became part of the comfortable background noise. Safe sounds. Family sounds.
"Leave her be," Mia defended, reaching over to stroke my hair. "She had a long day. This is good for her."
Her touch felt nice, gentle and uncomplicated. Safe. I leaned into it slightly, never stopping my coloring.
The dragon was coming alive under my hands.
I'd given him wise eyes—gold with flecks of green, like Daddy's when he was proud of me.
His scales shifted from deep purple to midnight blue, each one carefully outlined.
But it was the wings that consumed most of my attention.
They needed to be perfect. Strong enough to carry him but delicate enough to catch light.
"Wings," I murmured, not really meaning to speak aloud.
"Yeah, baby. Beautiful wings." Mia's agreement was soft, understanding that I was elsewhere.
Movement across the room caught my attention. Daddy stood near the bar with Duke, their heads bent in serious conversation. Even from here, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the controlled way he held his body that meant he was planning violence.
For someone else, that might have spiked fear. For me, it just made me feel safer. My Daddy was handling the scary things so I could sit here coloring dragons. The collar around my neck warmed against my skin like a reminder.
He must have felt my gaze because his head turned, eyes finding mine across the crowded room. His expression softened immediately, that particular look reserved just for me. A small smile, barely there, but it made my insides go squirmy in the best way.
'Okay?' he mouthed.
I nodded, holding up my purple crayon like evidence. His smile widened fractionally before Duke reclaimed his attention.
"God, you two are disgustingly cute," Mandy commented, but her tone was fond. "The way he looks at you? Like you hung the moon?"
"More like she colored it purple," Mia teased.
They laughed, and I giggled too, the sound bubbling up from that young place inside. Everything felt simple here. Good guys and bad guys, protectors and threats, but none of it touching me in this warm bubble of safety.
My crayon moved in steady strokes, filling in the dragon's wings with patient care. Somewhere in the background, Thor's booming laugh echoed off the walls. Someone started arguing about motorcycle parts. The jukebox switched to something slower, bluesy.
But I just colored, humming something tuneless under my breath. The dragon needed a background now. Maybe clouds, soft and puffy. Or stars. Dragons should fly among stars.
"She's humming," Mandy stage-whispered. "That's so precious I might die."
"Shh," Mia scolded. "You'll bring her up."
But I was too deep for their voices to pull me out. Too safe in this space where nothing could hurt me. Where Daddy handled the mean people and I got to make beautiful things. Where my family sat around me like guardian angels—if angels wore leather and carried guns and cursed like sailors.
I reached for the silver crayon, deciding on stars after all.
Across the room, Gabe caught my eye again. This time he tapped his wrist—our signal for time check. But I wasn't ready to surface yet, wasn't ready to leave this soft space where dragons had perfect wings and threats stayed firmly outside.
I held up five fingers. Five more minutes.
His nod was indulgent, already giving in like he always did when I was little. My Daddy, my protector, my safe place in a dangerous world.
I bent back to my coloring, silver stars blooming across the page. Each one was a promise, a point of light in darkness. Like the Heavy Kings themselves—rough men who made the world safer through controlled violence. Like Gabe, who'd taken my broken pieces and showed me how to fly.
The dragon was almost done now. Just needed a few more touches, a bit more shading on the wings. They were strong wings, I decided. Wings that could weather any storm, face any threat, and still soar.
Just like my Wings.