Chapter 45 The Coup #3
"You were VP before?" Rope asks, surprised.
"Long time ago. Gave it up when my son died. Didn't want the responsibility anymore." Tommy meets my eyes. "But someone's gotta keep this club together. Might as well be me."
"Thank you, brother."
"Don't thank me yet. I'm gonna be up your ass about every decision now. That's what VPs do."
"I'm counting on it."
Joker bangs the gavel. "Tommy is now Vice President of Iron Talons MC. All in favor?"
Every hand goes up. Even Torch and Diesel, who voted against me minutes ago.
"Congratulations, VP," Joker says. "Try not to let it kill you."
Tommy's smile is dry. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
The meeting breaks up slowly. Brothers approaching, offering congratulations, reassurances. Blade claps me on the shoulder. "For what it's worth, you're a good President. Ghost is just bitter."
"Yeah," Colt agrees. "He wanted your position since you got it. This was just his excuse."
Rope stops on his way out. "My kid's alive because of Lena. Whatever Ghost says, I owe her. I owe you."
"Appreciate it, brother."
After they leave, it's just me and Tommy in the Church room. He's pinning the VP patch onto his cut with the careful movements of someone who's done this before.
"You handled that well," he says.
"Did I? I just lost my VP and made an enemy for life."
"You kept the Presidency. That's what mattered."
"Ghost was right about one thing—Santiago is a target now. Anyone who wants to hurt me has an easy way to do it."
"Then we protect him. All of us. Iron Talons protects its own. That includes your kid."
"He's two days old and already in danger because of me."
Tommy finishes with the patch, looks up. "He's also alive because of you. Lena chose you. You gave her that baby. You're building something good. Don't let Ghost's bitterness poison that."
"What if he's right though? What if I can't be President and father effectively?"
"Jackson was President and father to three kids. Died in his bed at seventy-two. It can be done."
"Jackson didn't have a baby with the enemy's sister."
"No. But he made peace with the Vipers after twenty years of war. Everybody said he was crazy. Said it would never last. But it did. Until his death. You're doing the same thing with Coyote Fangs. It's possible."
"If Miguel doesn't betray us."
"If he does, we deal with it. But right now, you're President. I'm VP. Ghost is gone. We move forward."
I nod, but my mind is already back at the hospital. Santiago. Lena. Everything I fought to keep.
"I need to get back."
"Go. I'll handle club business today. You've earned a few hours with your family."
"Thanks, brother."
"That's what VPs are for."
The ride back to the hospital is faster than the ride away from it. Now that the fight is over, all I want is to hold my son again. To see Lena awake. To tell her I'm still President and that means we're still protected.
But when I pull into the parking lot, there's a bike I don't recognize. Coyote Fangs colors.
Miguel.
My hand goes instinctively to my cut before I remember I'm not wearing colors to start a war. Just to exist in this complicated space we've created.
I park, head inside. The tension in my shoulders hasn't eased. Traded Ghost's challenge for whatever Miguel's presence means.
Izzy is in the hallway outside Lena's room. When she sees me, relief floods her face.
"Thank God. How'd it go?"
"I'm still President. Ghost is gone."
"Good. Because you have a visitor."
"I saw the bike."
"He's been here about an hour. I called him."
I stop. "You called Miguel?"
"She needed him. Whether she admitted it or not. And he needed to know he's an uncle."
"Lena know he's here?"
"She does now. They're... talking."
I can hear voices through the door—Lena's high and emotional, Miguel's deep and careful. Can't make out words, just tones. But it doesn't sound like fighting.
"Should I—"
"Give them a minute," Izzy advises. "Then go in. He needs to see you're not going anywhere."
I lean against the wall, suddenly exhausted. Fought one battle, walked into another.
"How's he taking it?" I ask.
"He cried when he held Santiago," Izzy says. "Tough guy act crumbled completely. He's trying, Zane. Really trying."
My phone buzzes. Unknown number.
You made an enemy today. Sleep with one eye open. -Ghost
I delete the message without responding. One problem at a time.
Through the door, I hear Miguel's voice saying something in Spanish. Then Lena laughing through tears. Then baby sounds—Santiago awake and probably hungry.
I knock softly.
"Come in," Lena calls.
I open the door to find Miguel holding my son. Lena is sitting up in bed, crying happy tears, watching her brother hold her baby.
It's the most impossible thing I've seen, and I've seen a lot of impossible shit.
Miguel looks up when I enter. His expression is complicated—gratitude, resentment, acceptance, threat. All of it at once.
"Quinn," he says.
"Cruz."
Santiago makes a small sound, and both Miguel and I react—but Miguel's holding him, so I stay where I am.
"Congratulations on keeping your Presidency," Miguel says, surprising me.
"Word travels fast."
"Ghost is already making noise around Coyote Fangs. My President's been asking questions about you."
That's not good news, but we can deal with it later.
"You risked a lot coming here," I say.
Miguel looks down at Santiago. "He's my nephew. That's worth risking everything."
Lena is watching us both, exhausted but alert. Probably waiting to see if we'll kill each other or figure out how to exist in the same room.
I move closer, and Miguel carefully transfers Santiago to me. The weight of him settles against my chest, and the tension in my shoulders finally eases.
"We need to talk," Miguel says. "About what this means. About how we make this work."
"Yeah," I agree. "We do. But not today. Today, we just—"
"Exist in the same room without killing each other?" Miguel suggests.
"That's a start."
Lena laughs, watery and relieved. "That's more than a start. That's a miracle."
Santiago yawns against my chest, completely unconcerned with the political complications of his existence. Just a two-day-old baby who wants to eat and sleep and be held.
I look at Lena, at Miguel, at the son in my arms. Lost my VP, made an enemy, kept my Presidency, and somehow ended up here—in this hospital room with my family, cobbling together peace from the wreckage of war.
Not how I planned any of this.
But I'm learning that the best things never are.
"I should go," Miguel says. "Let you rest."
"Sunday dinner?" Lena asks hopefully. "At Abuela María's?"
Miguel pauses. "She's been asking about you. About him. She wants to meet her great-grandson.”
"We'll be there," Lena promises.
Miguel looks at me. "You too. Abuela said the father of her great-grandson is welcome at her table. Even if he is Iron Talons."
"I'll be there," I say.
After Miguel leaves, it's just the three of us. Lena, Santiago, and me. The family I never planned on having and can't imagine living without.
"You kept your Presidency," Lena says.
"Seven to two. Ghost is gone. Tommy's VP now."
"And Miguel came."
"Your brother is complicated."
"That's one word for it." She holds out her arms. "Give me my baby. And then tell me everything."
I transfer Santiago carefully. She settles him against her chest with the competence of two days' practice, and I sit on the edge of her bed.
"Ghost challenged me. Called a vote of no confidence. Said I was compromised, weak, choosing you over the club."
"And?"
"And I told them choosing you makes me stronger. That having something to lose makes me more dangerous, not less. That the truce with Coyote Fangs is worth protecting. Seven brothers agreed. Two didn't. Ghost left."
"He'll be back."
"Probably. But not today. Today, I'm still President. You're still here. Santiago is perfect. That's enough."
She leans her head against my shoulder, careful not to jostle the baby. "What happens now?"
"Now we go home. To the house I rented for us. And we figure out how to do this—President and father, healer and mother, impossible family built from enemy clubs and wrong number texts."
"Sounds complicated."
"Everything about us is complicated."
"Think we can make it work?"
I kiss her forehead. "Angel, we've survived everything else. This is just the next impossible thing on the list."
Santiago makes a small sound, already falling back asleep. Two days old and already better at this than any of us.
My phone buzzes.
Tommy: Club is handled. Take the day. That's an order from your VP.
I silence my phone and settle in next to Lena and Santiago. The hospital bed is too small for all three of us, but we make it work.
We always do.
Outside, Phoenix burns under the desert sun. Ghost is planning his revenge. Miguel is trying to justify this to his President. Coyote Fangs and Iron Talons are one wrong move away from war.
But in this room, in this moment, we're just a family.
Broken and patched together and absolutely perfect.
Worth fighting for.
Worth everything.