53
Parker
I ended the call and stared at the phone in my hand like it had just told me the world was ending. Fury bubbled up in my chest, hot and sharp, and I clenched my jaw so tightly it hurt.
Zeph. That stubborn, infuriating asshole.
Pete’s words echoed in my head. He was planning to leave the pack. Said he thought it was for the best, to give you and Kage a real chance with Phoenix.
My vision blurred around the edges with red. How dare he? How fucking dare he think he could make that decision for all of us?
Without thinking, I stormed out of my room. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest, and my hands curled into fists at my sides. When I reached the living room, I found him locked in a video game with Kage like nothing was wrong in the world.
“Move, man,”
Zeph muttered when I stepped directly in front of the TV.
“What the hell, Parker?”
Kage added with an annoyed huff.
“Where’s Phoenix?”
I asked, ignoring them both.
Kage blinked at me. “She and Charlotte went for a walk. Why?”
“Good,”
I said, voice tight, before turning on Zeph.
And then I hit him. Not hard enough to do any damage, but definitely hard enough to make a point. The sharp smack of my hand against the back of his head was almost satisfying.
Zeph yelped, twisting around to stare up at me. “What the fuck was that for?”
“For being a fucking idiot,”
I snapped, stepping in closer. “You were going to leave?”
His expression faltered, and guilt flashed across his face.
Kage froze beside him, controller falling to his lap. “Wait—what?”
“You were going to leave,”
I repeated, my voice rising. “Because you thought it’d be better for us? For me and Kage? You didn’t even talk to us, Zeph. You just decided?”
Zeph opened his mouth, but I didn’t let him speak.
“You don’t get to make that call, man,”
I continued. “You don’t get to just pretend like it’s some noble sacrifice. This isn’t just your pack. It’s all of ours. And Phoenix—she gets a say too. You don’t get to decide what’s best for her.”
“I was trying to do the right thing,”
Zeph said finally, voice low and rough. “I’m ashamed of what I did. I knew you wouldn’t agree with me but I thought… maybe if I stepped back, it would give her a chance to bond with you two without me complicating things.”
“Bullshit,”
Kage spat, shoving Zeph’s shoulder. “You were running. Again.”
Zeph flinched, but didn’t argue.
“You think you're protecting her, but all you're doing is avoiding your own shit,”
I said, pacing in front of the couch now, trying to burn off the energy buzzing under my skin. “You can’t keep hiding behind this fake nobility, man. You’re not a martyr. You’re just scared.”
“I know,”
Zeph said, voice cracking. “You think I don’t fucking know that? I’ve been trying, alright? I’ve been talking to someone. I’ve already started therapy. I’m trying to fix myself.”
Kage and I both paused.
“You what?” I asked.
“I started when we got back to California,”
he said. “Didn’t want to say anything until I knew I’d actually stick with it. But I know I need help. I’ve got a lot of shit I never dealt with. About Mom. About Phoenix. About… everything.”
The fire in my chest cooled a little, and I exchanged a glance with Kage.
“Good,”
I said after a beat. “Because you do need help. We all do, if we’re gonna make this work. You want to be in this with her? Then you need to stop pulling away and start doing the damn work.”
Zeph nodded slowly. “I’m trying. I really am.”
Kage huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “Next time you get a stupid idea like that, talk to us first. We're a pack, remember? You don’t get to make those calls alone.”
“I won’t,”
Zeph said. “I promise.”
I sank down onto the arm of the couch, scrubbing a hand over my face. The anger had started to fade, replaced by exhaustion and something rawer—relief, maybe.
“Just don’t be a dumbass again,”
I muttered.
“No promises,”
Zeph said with a weak smile.
◆◆◆
Witnessing Zeph actually take his healing seriously made it impossible for me to keep pretending I didn’t need to do the same. He was showing up. Owning his mistakes. Trying to be better. And if I was being honest with myself, it made me take a hard look at my own shit. I couldn’t keep pretending I had everything together just because I wasn’t blowing things up like Zeph used to. I hadn’t been fair to Phoenix. I hadn’t let her in—not the way she deserved.
So I decided to start. Not with a grand speech or some dramatic confession. Just… with a day. Something real.
I’d asked her that morning if she’d let me take her out. No details, no big hints. Just a quiet, “You trust me?”
She’d smiled and said yes.
Now, she sat beside me in the passenger seat, bare legs tucked under her, one hand resting casually on the center console, her fingers brushing against mine. The late morning sun poured in through the windshield as we drove out of the hills and into the heart of L.A. I could feel her eyes on me every so often, waiting, wondering.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going now? Or are we playing mysterious Alpha all day?”
I smiled, eyes still on the road. “I wanted to introduce you to someone.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “Okay. Anyone I should be nervous about?”
“No,”
I said softly. “Someone important, though.”
She didn’t press. Just nodded and reached for the volume knob, letting the quiet hum of music fill the space between us. God, she made things easy without even trying.
When we pulled into the cemetery, she stilled. I heard her breath hitch just slightly, her body tensing.
“Parker?”
she asked, gentle now.
I put the car in park and turned to face her. “Come on,”
I said, voice low. “This is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
She followed without a word, her fingers lacing with mine as we walked the winding path through the headstones. The place was peaceful. Quiet.
I stopped in front of two graves, side by side, both marked with simple, elegant headstones. My mother’s name carved into one, my brother’s into the other.
I let out a slow breath and crouched down, brushing some leaves from the base of the stone. “Hey, Ma,”
I murmured. “Sorry it’s been a while. I… I brought someone with me today.”
I looked up at Phoenix, who stood silently beside me, her hand still wrapped around mine, eyes wide but kind.
“This is Phoenix,”
I said, my throat tightening just a little. “She’s… she’s everything. Strong, stubborn, smart. You’d have loved her.”
I glanced at the grave next to my mom’s. “You too, Danny.”
Phoenix knelt beside me now, not saying anything, just listening.
“I never told you much about them,”
I said, turning my gaze toward her. “Didn’t know how. Didn’t know if I could.”
She didn’t rush me. She just nodded, silently telling me it was okay to keep going.
“My brother, Danny, got caught up in the wrong shit. Gangs, mostly. He wanted out, but by the time he tried, it was too late.”
I swallowed, blinking away the sting in my eyes. “He was seventeen. Just a kid. He was trying to protect someone else when it happened.”
Phoenix reached out, placing a hand over mine.
“My mom… she never really recovered. Not emotionally, not physically. She’d already been sick. Years of working on the street, suffering at the hands of her johns.. She held on for as long as she could, but losing Danny just… broke something in her.”
“She sounds like she was a strong woman,”
Phoenix said softly.
“She was,”
I nodded. “She gave up everything for us. Worked herself into the ground. Never complained once. She deserved so much more than what life gave her.”
I exhaled hard, letting the grief settle before I spoke again.
“I didn’t want to bring anyone here unless it meant something. But I want you to know everything, Phoenix. The good, the bad, the ugly. I want to let you in.”
I turned toward her, my chest tight. “I should’ve shared it with you sooner.”
Phoenix’s eyes were glassy, her voice thick. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”
“I want you to know where I come from,”
I said. “Not just the fame and the music, but the parts I don’t usually show. You deserve that. You deserve all of me.”
She leaned into me then, resting her head on my shoulder as we sat in silence. Just us, and the ghosts of my past.
The drive back was quiet, but it wasn’t the heavy, suffocating kind of silence. It was peaceful. Reflective. Phoenix had kept her hand in mine the whole time, her thumb brushing lightly across my skin every so often, like she was letting me know she was still there even if the words weren’t.
We didn’t head straight back to the house. Instead, I pulled into a small lookout area. The city stretched below us, bathed in gold and pink as the sun began its slow descent. I killed the engine and leaned back in my seat. Phoenix didn’t speak right away. She just turned her body toward me, folding her legs under her, waiting.
I glanced over at her, my voice low. “That was a lot.”
She nodded. “Yeah. But I’m really glad you shared it with me.”
“I wasn’t sure I could,”
I admitted. “I’ve buried all that stuff so deep for so long. I thought if I talked about it, it would undo me.”
She reached over and took my hand again, lacing our fingers. “But it didn’t.”
“No,”
I said quietly. “It didn’t.”
I looked out at the skyline for a beat before speaking again. “I used to come here after my mom passed. Just to think. Sometimes I’d scream. Sometimes I’d cry. Sometimes I’d sit here for hours, trying to figure out why the world kept taking from the people who deserved the most.”
Phoenix shifted closer, her thigh brushing mine. “And now?”
“Now I just… want to be better. Not just for me. For you. For us.”
Her gaze softened, eyes shining in the fading light. “You already are, Parker.”
I gave a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.”
She reached up and touched my cheek, her thumb brushing the corner of my jaw. “You don’t have to be perfect. I don’t need perfect. I just need you. Honest, messy, real you.”
Those words broke something open in me, something I didn’t even know I’d kept locked up. I leaned in, resting my forehead against hers.
“I’ve lost so much, Phoenix,”
I whispered. “But I don’t want to lose you too. So if that means tearing down the walls, if it means learning how to be open, how to feel it al, then I’ll do it. I’ll do it every damn day.”
Her lips brushed mine, slow and soft. “You’re not going to lose me, Parker.”
We sat there for a while, our foreheads still touching, her hands in mine, the sun dipping lower behind us. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to be strong. She saw me, all of me, and stayed anyway.