Page 89 of Wings
Twenty percent. In the outlaw world, skimming five percent might get you beaten. Ten percent might get you exiled. Twenty percent was a death sentence written in neon.
"How long until the package arrives?" I kept my voice steady, clinical. This was mission wrap-up, not family drama.
"Anonymous email goes out at sunrise," Dex confirmed. "Gives us time to establish alibis, make sure our people are accounted for. By the time the Serpents verify the data and mobilize, we'll have been visibly elsewhere for hours."
“Just—hold it for now,” I said. “I don’t want Alex dead. Twenty percent is just . . . crazy.”
“You sure, the plan was to let them deal with their own.”
“I’m sure. Please, he’s my brother—I don’t want his blood on my hands.”
“Understood."
Shop three materialized out of the darkness—an abandoned warehouse the Heavy Kings maintained for exactly this purpose. Vehicle switches, temporary storage, a place to disappear one thing and reappear as another. Thor's truck was already there, Kiara's small form visible through the windshield.
The relief at seeing her safe hit like a physical blow. I was out of the van before Tank fully stopped, crossing the space between vehicles in long strides. She met me halfway, launching herself into my arms with enough force to drive the breath from my lungs.
"You came for me." Muffled against my chest, the words barely audible. "The plan was to let me run, but you came."
"Always." I held her tight enough to feel her heartbeat through both our clothes. "The second he hurt you, the plan changed."
Thor approached, all business despite the concern in his scarred features. "She did good. Held it together, followed exit protocol perfectly. Natural operator, this one."
"Never again," I said firmly, the words for Kiara but my eyes on Thor. "This was a one-time thing."
"Agreed."
We switched vehicles quickly, efficiently. The van would be stripped and abandoned two states over. Our cars had been elsewhere all evening, alibis solid as bedrock.
Now I just had to decide if to condemn my brother to certain death. But it could wait—I’d let him stew for a few days.
Chapter 17
Wings
Thechapel'scandlesthrewshadows that danced across leather cuts and weathered faces, fifty brothers packed into a space meant for half that number. I stood at the makeshift altar, hands clasped behind my back. The incomplete cut felt lay heavy across my shoulders—bottom rocker proclaiming Heavy Kings MC, side patches marking rank and territory, but that empty space at the top screaming prospect, unfinished, not quite worthy.
Tonight that would change.
My eyes found Kiara in the front row before I could stop them. Navy dress from our contract signing, the one that made her look like some kind of dangerous angel. The butterfly collar caught every flicker of candlelight, silver wings spreading across her throat like a promise. She sat between Mia and Mandy, but I only saw her—the way she held herself straight and proud, hands folded in her lap, watching me with eyes that held everything. Love, pride, complete faith that I belonged here.
The sight of her grounded me when my thoughts wanted to spiral. Thoughts of my brother filled my mind. The email with evidence of his skimming still sat in Dex's outbox, unsent. Every morning I woke up knowing I held Alex's life in my hands, every night I went to bed having chosen to let him live another day.
Duke stepped forward, and the chapel fell silent like someone had thrown a switch. The wooden box in his hands might as well have been made of gold for how carefully he held it.
"Brothers," his voice filled every corner of the room without trying. "We gather tonight to complete what was started months ago."
Thor flanked him on the left, massive frame barely contained in his dress shirt and cut. Tyson took the right, sharp eyes cataloging every face like he was already writing this into club history. My sponsors, my brothers, the men who'd vouched for me when I'd shown up broken and desperate.
"Gabriel Moreno came to us in pieces," Duke continued, and I felt the weight of every eye in the room. "Lost his leg serving this country. Lost his way when he came home. Could have been another casualty, another good man ground down by a world that takes more than it gives."
My prosthetic ached the way it did when memories got heavy.
"Instead, he chose to rebuild. Not just himself, but us. The medical supply runs that keep our brothers alive when hospitals would ask too many questions. The security protocols that helped us spot Serpent surveillance before it became a problem. The careful balance of a personal situation that could have compromised us but instead made us stronger."
Kiara shifted slightly in her seat, and I caught the pink flush creeping up her neck. Duke was talking about her without saying her name, acknowledging what everyone knew—that my relationship with her had been a risk that paid off.
"Three supply runs completed without a single incident," Duke listed off. "Seventeen injured brothers treated with supplies that wouldn't have been available otherwise. A complete overhaul of our operational security that's already prevented two potential breaches. And when faced with a threat to someone under our protection, he handled it with precision and intelligence instead of emotion and violence."
