Page 48 of Wings (Heavy Kings MC #5)

The mention of our father hit like a physical blow. Dad, who'd drunk himself to death, who'd spent his last months begging for forgiveness that never quite reached his eyes. Alex had his eyes now—but the expression was different. Alex meant this.

Then, to my shock, he broke completely.

"I'm sorry." The words came out choked, barely human.

He turned to Kiara fully, and I watched my brother collapse in on himself.

"Not the bullshit sorry I used to give you.

Not the manipulative sorry that came with flowers and promises.

Real sorry. The kind that knows it doesn't fix anything but needs to be said anyway. "

His knees hit the floor hard enough to make everyone flinch.

Not theatrical, not calculated—just a body that couldn't hold the weight anymore.

"I turned into a monster. Sent you those flowers knowing you hated them.

That bear—Christ, what kind of sick fuck does that to someone they claimed to love? "

Kiara's hand found mine, but she didn't look away from the wreckage of my brother. Her spine stayed straight, queen surveying the ruins of a would-be usurper.

"The photos were worse," Alex continued, words pouring out like pus from an infected wound.

"Following you to work, documenting your life like I had any right to it.

Making you check your mirrors, second-guess every shadow.

I watched you get smaller, more afraid, and some sick part of me felt satisfied.

Like if I was miserable, you should be too. "

"You made me afraid to exist," Kiara said quietly, each word precise as a scalpel. "Afraid to go to work. Afraid to come home. Afraid to be happy because you might be watching, might punish me for daring to smile without you."

"I know." His voice cracked completely.

Thor shifted by the door, uncomfortable with the raw emotion. Duke watched like a judge weighing evidence. But I couldn't look away from the confrontation playing out—my brother on his knees, my woman standing strong.

"The drugs made it worse but they didn't make it happen," Alex admitted. "That poison was already in me. The meth just gave it permission to come out. Every text, every threat, every moment I made you feel unsafe—that was me choosing to be a monster."

"Yes," Kiara agreed simply. "It was."

No forgiveness in her voice, no softening. Just acknowledgment of truth laid bare. Alex's shoulders shook with sobs that sounded like they were tearing him apart from the inside.

"I used to be better," he whispered. "Remember? Before Dad died, before the drugs, before I let jealousy eat me alive. I used to make you laugh. Used to be someone worth loving."

"That person's gone," Kiara said, still steady, still strong.

"You want me to say I forgive you? I don't. You want me to say it's okay, that addiction explains everything?

It doesn't. You chose to use. Choose to stalk.

Chose to terrorize someone who'd done nothing but try to love you through your worst impulses. "

Alex nodded, accepting each word like a lash. "I'm not asking for forgiveness."

"Good. Because I don't have any to give.

" She squeezed my hand once, then let go.

Stepped forward until she stood directly over my kneeling brother.

"What I do have is pragmatism. And a desire to see this ended without more blood.

" She turned to face Duke, every inch the queen I'd helped her become.

"Think about it tactically. The Serpents lose a fortune and face.

They focus their energy hunting their missing thief instead of planning retaliation against us.

Alex gets to live, but far from here where he can't hurt anyone I care about.

And we get funding and the satisfaction of hitting our enemies where it hurts most—their wallets. "

Duke leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. "You're advocating for this?"

"I'm advocating for the solution that ends with the least bloodshed." She turned back to Alex, who was staring at her like she'd grown wings. "But there are conditions."

"Anything," Alex said immediately.

"No." Her voice went hard again. "Not anything. Specific things. First, after Thursday, you're gone. Not just from Ironridge, not just from Colorado. Gone from anywhere we might ever be. The world's big—find a corner of it that doesn't include us."

He nodded frantically.

"Second, no contact. Ever. No letters when you get nostalgic. No phone calls when you're drunk. No showing up in five years claiming you've changed. Dead men don't reach out from the grave."

"I understand."

"Third." She paused, gathering herself. "If you ever break these conditions, if you ever contact us again, if I see you in a crowd twenty years from now—that email gets sent. The Serpents learn your location, and all about your skimming with interest calculated daily. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." Alex's voice was barely a whisper.

She stepped back, returning to my side like coming home. "Then I support the deal. Thursday can be your funeral and resurrection all at once. Make the most of your second life—you won't get a third."

The room absorbed her verdict.

"Well," Duke said finally. "Seems the lady has spoken."

Alex pushed himself to his feet, movements careful like everything hurt. "Thank you," he said to Kiara. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but—"

"You're right," she cut him off. "It doesn't. Save your gratitude. Just keep your word."

Duke's decision came swift as a killing stroke. "We verify the intel tomorrow. Tank, take two prospects and run surveillance on the warehouse. I want photos, guard positions, everything Alex claimed double-checked."

Thor nodded, already mentally selecting his team. Duke turned to me, expression unreadable. "You understand what happens Thursday? If the intel's good, we hit them hard. Your brother gets his money and disappears. If he's lying . . ."

"He burns," I finished. "The email goes out, the Serpents handle their business, and we wash our hands of it. I understand."

"Do you?" Duke pressed. "Because once this starts, there's no pulling back. No last-minute changes of heart because he's blood. You signed for this brotherhood tonight—that means choosing us over him if it comes to it."

The weight of my fresh patch pressed against my shoulders. Almost no time ago, I'd sworn loyalty above all others. Now that oath faced its first test.

"I mean it," I said quietly.

Duke studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Good man. Now get back out there before people notice their guest of honor's missing. This is still your night."

The office door opened onto a different world.

The celebration had hit that perfect sweet spot—drunk enough for honesty, not so drunk that blood would flow.

Someone had started a poker game in the corner.

Thor's arm-wrestling tournament had crowned a champion who was taking all challengers.

Normal Friday night at the clubhouse, except tonight I belonged here in ways I hadn't three hours ago.

"Wings!" Someone pressed another beer into my hand. "There he is! Thought you snuck off to celebrate privately!"

Laughter, backslapping, the easy camaraderie of brothers who'd kill for each other without question.

I fell back into it, but Kiara's hand in mine kept me grounded.

She smiled and chatted, played the part of proud girlfriend perfectly, but I felt the tension in her fingers.

Processing what had just happened, what would happen Thursday.

But that was Thursday. Tonight, I was just Wings, newest full member of the Heavy Kings MC, watching my woman laugh and my brothers celebrate and the future rush toward us like a freight train in the dark.