Chapter Sixteen #2
For a moment, we stand frozen, former birds facing the architect of our torment, weapons trained on him, the weight of years of pain and trauma hanging in the air like smoke.
Then Javier smiles, and I know he’s about to do something desperate.
He stands slowly, walking to the edge of his desk, where his gun sits, and in a flash, he picks it up, his finger tightening on the trigger, the gun aimed directly at me.
But I fire first.
The bullet punches through his shoulder, his body jerking back, slamming against the wall next to Kite’s blade as he drops the gun with a hiss of pain.
Rosella lunges, tackling him to the floor, slamming a fist into his face, and blood spatters across his cheek.
He tries to fight back, but it’s pitiful.
Weak.
Nothing less than I expected from the scum of the earth.
“We lost sisters because of you!” Rosella snarls. “You don’t get to fight back.” She pins him to the floor beneath her, and I walk over, my fellow birds flanking me as I kneel beside him, gun still trained.
“This is for Poppy,” I state, smiling widely.
Then Nighthawk jams the needle into his neck, the sedative taking hold almost instantly. His body slumps, the asshole going out like a light. Rosella jumps off him, kicking his ribs for good measure.
“Tie him up. Let’s get this fucker back to the clubhouse,” I order.
“With pleasure,” Peacock states, pulling the zip ties from her pockets.
We bind him tightly and literally drag his unconscious body behind us as we make our way from the compound while I check in with the extraction team. “Egret, Starling, extraction report.”
Static buzzes over the comms, and Starling’s voice chimes down the line. “We had some resistance, but Egret took care of the guards while I dealt with evac. All cargo loaded up, ready for shipment. We are good to go.”
With a wide smile, I glance at the other birds who grin back at me while Javier’s body slams into dead guards on the floor as we drag him through the blood, dust, and empty bullet casings on the way out to the convoy point. “Mission complete. Let’s get our asses back to the clubhouse to celebrate.”
I shift my gaze back to Nighthawk and let out a long exhale. She moves in beside me, sliding her arm around my shoulders. “So, that was the last flight of Blue Jay, wasn’t it?” she asks.
I thought I would feel sadness.
An emptiness, even.
But walking away from The Nest, from being a bird, finally feels like the right thing.
I exhale with a smile. “I think I have one more mission left in me, then Blue Jay will take flight.”
Nighthawk furrows her brows at me. “One more?”
I turn back, my eyes focused on Javier’s almost lifeless body lying on the floor, before we lift him into the waiting van. “Yeah… one more.”
My phone buzzes against my hip, cutting through the moment. Alpha’s name flashes on the screen, and my stomach drops. He wouldn’t call unless something’s wrong.
“Alpha?” I answer, pressing the phone to my ear as we load Javier’s unconscious form into the back of the convoy vehicle.
“Haven, I need you and Nighthawk to swing by the hospital. After everything that went down tonight, I want to make sure Lock is safe.”
Relief floods through me. Lock is the doctor who tried so hard to save Livvy, and who has been drowning in guilt ever since she died in his ER.
We told him he’s part of our club, our family.
So it makes sense to check on him.
“Copy that. We’ll head there now.”
The line goes dead, and I look at Nighthawk, who’s already reading my expression.
“Hospital?” she asks, her brows furrowed.
“Lock. Making sure he’s okay after tonight.” I turn to the other birds. “Change of plans. We’re splitting. You guys take Javier and the rescued kids back to the clubhouse. Nighthawk and I are making a detour.”
The other birds grin in acknowledgment as we load up in our respective vans.
I key the comms once more. “L6, the birds are loaded up and are headed your way with the package. Nighthawk and I are en route to the hospital. The birds will wait with the package and will deploy when I arrive, over.” I watch the others drive off with our precious cargo as static comes down the line.
“I hear you. Package is on its way. I’ll make sure the boys are ready. We’ll see you soon, over.”
I smile, hearing the sweet voice down the comms, then I turn the engine on and head for the hospital.
The last time I was there, I watched my best friend die.
I saw my fiancée lose the first love of his life.
And I watched Poppy lose her mother. I didn’t want to come back here, but if it means I get to make sure that Lock is okay, for the sake of Livvy, I will do that in a heartbeat.
Because she loved him.
Which means he’s part of our family.
And we protect family.
Walking inside, the hospital buzzes with its usual late-night activity, a controlled chaos of beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and hushed conversations. We make our way through the familiar corridors toward the ER, where Lock should be finishing up his shift.
“There,” I say, spotting him at the nurses’ station, looking exhausted as he reviews charts.
But he’s not alone.
A petite nurse with long black hair and bangs leans against the counter beside him, clearly trying to engage him in conversation. Her body language is flirtatious, touching his arm, laughing at something he said, and standing closer than necessary.
Lock, for his part, looks uncomfortable. He keeps stepping back, creating distance, his responses polite but clearly uninterested.
“Miranda,” I murmur, recognizing her immediately.
She was Livvy’s nurse during those final hours. Always so caring, so attentive. She held Livvy’s hand when I couldn’t be there.
She worked with her.
She was her friend.
Nighthawk’s hand slams into my chest, stopping me dead. “Black Swan,” she whispers, her voice filled with shock and something darker.
My blood turns to ice as I spin my head around to meet her gaze, my eyes wide, instantly realizing what she is saying. “What?”
“That’s Black Swan. One of mine. I trained her.”
The world tilts on its axis, falling as I stumble slightly. Nighthawk grips my arm to keep me steady.
Miranda! Sweet, caring Miranda, who comforted me after Livvy died, who seemed to genuinely care, is a fucking bird?
How the hell did I not pick up on that?
We watch as she continues her attempts to flirt with Lock, who’s clearly having none of it. His jaw is tight, his movements sharp with barely contained grief and irritation.
“She’s been watching him,” I realize, my voice hollow. “All this time, she’s been watching Lock. And before that…” I drift off, realizing her target.
“She was watching Livvy,” Nighthawk finishes grimly.
As if to sense us in the moment, Miranda glances up. Her eyes focus on Nighthawk’s, her face turning white as a sheet. Recognition flickers between them, predator and former student.
Miranda’s hand instinctively moves toward her pocket, but Nighthawk is already moving, her weapon drawn but held low.
“Don’t,” Nighthawk commands quietly as we approach like silent sentinels.
Lock peers up at the commotion, his eyes widening as he takes in the armed women advancing on his colleague. “What the fuck? Haven!” he demands, stepping protectively in front of Miranda despite not understanding the situation.
“Step away from her, Doc,” I urge gently. “She’s not who you think she is.”
Lock turns to look at Black Swan, raising his brow while Miranda raises her hands slowly, her cover clearly blown. “Dr. Rhodes, I can explain—”
“Miranda?” Lock’s tone is confused, looking between her and us. “Jesus Christ, Haven. Is this more club bullshit, because you already took Livvy from me—”
“Her name isn’t Miranda,” Nighthawk interrupts his ranting, never taking her eyes off the woman. “It’s Black Swan. And she’s been watching you for years.”
Lock’s face alternates through a series of emotions, confusion, realization, and then pure fury.
“What the fuck?” he explodes, stepping back from Miranda like she’s suddenly become toxic waste.
“You’re telling me that my colleague, the nurse who held her hand, who comforted me afterward, is what? Some kind of spy?”
“Not a spy,” I say quietly, my own anger building. “A bird… an elite assassin. One of Javier’s.”
“Former bird,” Miranda, Black Swan, says quickly. “I haven’t reported to him since Livvy’s death. When I realized what was really happening, when I knew what he was going to do to Livvy—”
“You were there!” I interrupt, my voice rising, letting my emotion take hold. “You were there when she died, and you were reporting everything back to him,” I growl.
Tears well in her eyes, her bottom lip trembling as Lock glares at her with a look so deadly she might need resuscitation.
“I tried to save her. I swear I tried. When I figured out what was happening, I even tried to warn her, but it was too late. Javier already decided—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Lock shouts, running his hands through his hair. “Another fucking bird? How many of you people are there? And why the hell didn’t anyone think to mention that my nurse was a trained assassin?”
“Because we didn’t know,” I snap. “Not until now,” I lower my voice, trying to rein in my emotions.
Nighthawk steps closer to Black Swan. “We need to talk. All of us. Somewhere private.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you people,” Lock snaps, his voice shaking with rage and grief, causing more of his staff to look our way. “I trusted her. She was there when Livvy—” His voice breaks.
“Doc…” Nighthawk urges gently, her eyes shifting to Black Swan. “She’s been protecting you. If she wanted you dead, you’d already be six feet under.”
“How comforting,” he mutters bitterly, turning and starting to pace.
Black Swan looks between all of us, then focuses on Nighthawk. “I know about tonight. What you did to Javier’s operations. I wanna help.”
“Help how?” I demand.
“I know things. Things he never realized I was paying attention to.” She takes a shaky breath. “There’s something else, something important about how to finish this.”
I tilt my head. “Doc, you got a room we can use to talk?”
He huffs, shaking his head in some sort of disbelief. Then finally he grates out, “Fuck… fine! C’mon, it’s not like I have patients who need me or anything.”
I gently touch his arm as he leads us to the on-call room. We file in, and Lock sits rigidly in a chair, still processing the revelation that his colleague has been living a double life. Black Swan sits across from us, Nighthawk moving in and zip-tying her hands as a precaution.
“So…” Lock says, his voice tight with controlled anger. “Anyone want to explain why the woman who helped me try to save Livvy’s life turned out to be working for the monster who killed her?”
“I wasn’t working for him anymore,” Black Swan says quietly. “Not by then. I’d been trying to find a way out for months.”
“But you were reporting on Livvy,” I state. “On her relationship with Lock, her dealings with the club, everything.”
“Yes,” she admits, tension building in her shoulders. “But when I realized he was planning to kill her, I tried to warn her without telling her exactly what was going on. She thought I was paranoid. She wouldn’t listen. She was so happy with Lock and felt protected by the club.”
“She never told me…” Lock’s face crumples with fresh grief.
“Because she was protecting you,” Black Swan continues. “She didn’t want any fuss. She’d had threats before, and the club always took care of them. She thought this would be the same.”
The room falls silent except for the hum of the ventilation system.
“What else do you know?” My stomach is now churning with guilt that I was supposed to be Livvy’s savior.
I was supposed to go in and protect her that day.
I failed her.
I fucking failed.
Black Swan meets my eyes. “His mother, Lucia Rojas. She’s his weakness, the only person he’s ever truly loved.”
“His mother?” Nighthawk leans forward.
“She’s passed away now, but the crux of it is that he put his mother in the prison system way back in the day to start it all. She helped him build the whole thing.”
Furrowing my brows, I scowl. “He put his own mother in prison?”
She nods. “Yeah, she offered, apparently, believing in his cause. She began the process of the pregnancy chambers below the prison. She recruited a woman inside called Layla to help mastermind the entire thing, and together they orchestrated this whole system.”
“Jesus,” Lock mumbles.
“Javier’s mother trained Layla until his mother died in the prison system, and Layla took over as the leader.
Javier lost his shit when his mother died, and that’s when he started planning his coup over Rico, because Rico didn’t offer his mother the usual Rojas Cartel funeral.
Word on the street was that Rico told Javier it’s because she was a woman. ”
Snorting out a laugh, I shake my head. “Lovely.”
“Javier tried to tell Rico she’s been instrumental in building the next wave, but Rico just denied the request. So, Javier started planning, with Atlas, the birds, and everything else he could do to wipe his uncle off the face of the earth, all because he refused his mother a proper Cartel funeral. ”
Something inside me shifts, the final piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
The one mission I have left as Blue Jay.
To make Javier suffer as much as possible before I watch the life drain from him.
Torturously.
Painfully.
Slowly.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask.
“I’ve been tracking his movements for years. His mother is the one constant in his life, the one thing he’s completely obsessed over. It’s almost a little creepy.”
Lock looks up at all of us, his expression haunted. “So, what happens now? To Miranda? To me?”
Letting out a long breath, I stand. “Now, we go back to the clubhouse. We debrief, we plan, and we figure out how to use this information.”
“And Black Swan?” Nighthawk asks, raising her brow at me.
I look at the woman who was there when Livvy died, who tried to save the woman we all loved, even while trapped in Javier’s web.
“She comes with us. It’s time she learned what it really means to be free.”
Lock shakes his head, standing slowly. “This is insane… all of it.”
“Welcome to our world, Doc,” I say grimly. “Hope you’re ready for one hell of a ride.”
As we prepare to leave, I can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to change.
One more mission.
One final flight.
And then Blue Jay will finally be set free.