Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nano
The knock on the church door was soft. Gentle, even.
The kind of knock that didn’t belong in a room where we discussed blood and territory and revenge.
Everyone turned as Kyllian pushed the door open just enough to slip her head inside, her blonde hair catching the overhead light.
Her face was solemn, her green eyes carefully neutral as they swept the room.
She didn’t look at me.
“Sorry, Kane,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of something final. “You wanted me to tell you when she made a decision.”
Morpheus straightened in his chair at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. “And?”
“She’s made it,” Kyllian said simply.
The room went still.
I felt it like a physical blow. Sharp, sudden, stealing the air from my lungs.
She left.
Kyllian didn’t need to say the words. The look on her face said everything. The careful way she avoided my gaze said everything.
Alex was gone.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Morpheus said, his tone measured. Professional.
Kyllian nodded once and ducked back out, closing the door behind her with a soft click that echoed too loudly in the silence. Morpheus turned to Poseidon, who sat across from me, his jaw tight and his hands flat on the table. “Your sister left,” Morpheus said.
Poseidon closed his eyes, his head shaking slightly. “Had a feeling she would. She never could stay put in one place for too long. Girl always seemed to be looking for something but could never find it.”
“Want me to follow her?” Kraken asked from the other end of the table.
“No,” Poseidon muttered, his voice rough. “Just let her go. Can’t keep chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught. She’ll show back up eventually.”
Eventually. The word sat in my chest like a stone.
“Nano?”
I looked up to find Morpheus staring at me, his dark eyes sharp and assessing.
“Maybe you should sit this one out,” he said quietly.
The suggestion landed like an insult. “I’m fine,” I replied, my voice flat.
“Where’s your head, brother?” Carver asked from beside me, his tone careful. Too careful.
“I said I’m fucking fine!” I snapped, my hands slamming down on the table as I shoved my chair back and stood.
The room went silent. Every eye turned to me, but I didn’t give a fuck. I couldn’t sit here. Couldn’t listen to them talk about Alex as if she were just another problem that would solve itself, eventually. I stormed toward the door, yanking it open hard enough that it banged against the wall.
“Nano—” Morpheus started.
I didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. Just walked out and let the door slam shut behind me.
I knew Morpheus would have my ass for that later.
Knew I’d just disrespected him in front of the entire officer table, but right now, I didn’t give a fuck.
Right now, I just wanted to be alone. But I couldn’t even have that because in a few hours, we were riding out to locate and kill Arizona.
Another brother turned traitor who sided with the Death Dogs.
The very man who shot and almost killed his own brother, Montana, leaving him for dead.
Arizona, along with others, were on everyone’s kill list. They took precedence over my fucking fucked-up love life.
I scoffed at that. Love life. What fucking love life? I choked, whipped, and punished women for my own perverse pleasure. There was no fucking love in that. Hell, I didn’t even know what love really was. Well, not the love I saw when Kyllian looked at Firestride.
Alex never looked at me that way. Hell, I didn’t know if she even knew how. Not that it mattered anymore. She made her choice, and I wasn’t going to stop her.
“Yo, Nano!” Xzibit shouted at me from behind the bar before I could disappear upstairs. “Letter came for you. From New York.”
I stopped, frowning. I didn’t know anyone in New York.
Walking over to the bar, I took the thick yellow envelope Xzibit held out.
It was heavy. The paper was worn at the edges like it had been handled multiple times before being mailed.
No return sender. Just my legal name—Tucker Foley—the address of the clubhouse, and a postmark from New York.
“Thanks,” I muttered, turning away before Xzibit could ask questions as I headed upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it.
The space felt too empty. Too quiet. The bed was still unmade from where Alex had been lying in it for two days. The sheets still smelled like her. It was faint, barely there, but enough to make my chest tighten.
I ignored it.
Walking over to my desk, I powered up my computer and sat down, leaning back in my chair as I ripped open the yellow envelope. Inside was another sealed envelope. White. Plain. And written across the front in handwriting I hadn’t seen in over a decade was a single word: Tucker.
My breath caught as I stared at it, my hands suddenly unsteady as I flipped the envelope over.
Nothing. No return address. No explanation.
Just my name.
I ripped it open, my heart pounding too hard in my chest, and pulled out a single sheet of college-ruled lined paper. The handwriting was messy. Rushed. Like whoever wrote it had been in a hurry or didn’t have much time, but I recognized it immediately... Travis.
Hey, Little Brother,
I know it’s been a long time, and I’m sorry for that.
I guess if you’re reading this, I’m dead. Sucks, I know.
Look, I really don’t know what to say here, or if you’ll ever get this letter, but I want you to know something, Tucker.
I never stopped thinking about you. Never stopped caring.
When I left home, it wasn’t because of you.
I just couldn’t stand by and watch Mom sink deeper into herself waiting for a man who was never coming back.
I know that ain’t gonna make up for the pain I caused, leaving you to deal with Mom and her string of fucked-up men, but it’s the truth. There were so many things I wish I could have done differently over the years, but walking away from that hell wasn’t one of them.
My regret was leaving you with her.
I’ve kept an eye on you over the years. Was real fucking proud when you up and joined the military.
Saw you graduate, bro. You looked so sharp in your uniform.
Thought you made it out, ya know, that you broke the cycle.
Then I saw you at Sturgis a few years back, wearing a Bastards’ cut.
I should have walked over to ya, should have hugged ya, hit ya—done something other than walk away. I’m sorry for that, too.
Shit, Tuck, I don’t know what to say right now, but with this biker war knocking on the door, I just wanted to tell ya, I’m sorry and to ask a favor from ya.
I have an old lady, Mellie. She’s pregnant, Tuck, with my kid.
If I don’t make it, would you please watch out for her?
I know I don’t have any right to ask this, but I am.
Brother to brother.
For old time’s sake.
Travis.
I stared at the letter. The words blurred as my vision went hazy. Travis. My brother. The only family I had left in this world, and he was dead.
I read the letter again. And again. And again. Each time, the words hit harder.
I never stopped thinking about you.
I was real fucking proud when you joined the military.
I saw you at Sturgis.
He had been there. He saw me. And he walked away. Just like I walked away from Alex two days ago. My hands were shaking now, the paper crinkling under my grip.
I have an old lady, Mellie. She’s pregnant, Tuck, with my kid.
A kid.
Travis had a kid on the way and now that kid would never know their father.
If I don’t make it, would you please watch out for her?
I closed my eyes. The weight of the request settled over me like a lead blanket. He was asking me to take care of his old lady. His pregnant old lady. A woman I had never met. A responsibility I never asked for. But he was my brother, and now he was dead.
Brother to brother. For old time’s sake.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, my chest aching with something I couldn’t name.
Grief. Regret. Anger. All of it tangled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Travis had been watching me. Had been proud of me, and I never knew.
I spent years hating him for leaving. For abandoning me with Mom and her endless parade of men who used her and threw her away.
But he had been watching. He cared. And now it was too late.
“You ready to go?”
I spun around to find Morpheus standing in my doorway, his expression unreadable.
I hadn’t even heard him open the door. For a moment, I just stared at him, the letter still clutched in my hand. Then I nodded.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough. “I’m ready.”
I stood, folding the letter carefully and placing it on my desk beside my keyboard.
I didn’t look at it again. Didn’t let myself think about what it meant or what I was going to do about Mellie.
Right now, there was a mission. Right now, there was Arizona.
Right now, there was blood to spill and a war to fight.
I followed Morpheus out of the room, pulling the door shut behind me, and I never looked back. What was the use?
There would never be someone to watch me walk away.
Everyone was waiting outside, brothers revving their bikes as I walked over to mine, flinging my leg over the seat, feeling the familiar weight and power between my legs, the rumble of the engine vibrating through my entire body.
That was when I heard Poseidon curse loudly from across the lot, “She stole my fucking bike!”
Several brothers burst out laughing, some slapping their thighs, others shaking their heads in disbelief as I just sat there watching Poseidon completely lose his shit. His face was turning red, veins popping in his neck as he spun around looking for his prized Harley.