Chapter 27 Sergio
SERGIO
Nacho called me an hour ago. Told me about the grocery store, and Jessica standing her ground. I’m so fucking proud of her.
I left practice early. Drove home with my jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached.
Carlos texted twenty minutes ago: She's in her nest. Shaken but whole. I'm with her. Pedro arrived ten minutes after that. Parked his car and came inside without a word.
And then I hear it. Callum's truck tears up the gravel drive.
I move to the window.
The truck skids to a stop ten feet from the porch.
Black F-150. Custom rims. Vanity plate that says MORRISON.
He must have ditched the rental and gone back for his truck, wanting the intimidation factor of the vehicle we all know.
The one he drove to our place every Sunday for poker night.
It used to mean friendship and is now just another symbol of what we've lost.
Those nights are over now.
Callum throws open the driver's door and storms toward the house. His face is red. Fists clenched. He's wearing a suit, charcoal grey, no tie. Probably came straight from work when he heard what happened at the grocery store.
A lifetime of friendship. He was there when my parents died, when I needed him most. Now that person is gone. I don't recognize whoever is storming up my porch steps.
"Sergio!" His voice cracks through the evening air. "Get out here!"
I drain the last of my coffee. Set the mug in the sink. Roll my shoulders once to loosen the tension building between my blades.
Then I walk to the front door and open it.
Callum stands on the porch, chest heaving, eyes wild. His usually perfect hair is disheveled. His suit jacket is wrinkled. There's a scratch on his cheek that wasn't there yesterday.
"Where is she?" He tries to push past me.
I don't move. My shoulder blocks the doorframe. Six foot three. Two hundred twenty pounds. He's not getting through unless I let him.
"She's inside."
"I want to talk to her."
"No."
"This is between me and Jessica."
"Wrong." I keep my voice level. Calm. "You put your hands on her. In public. Left bruises on her arm. That makes it between you and me."
His jaw tightens. "She told you."
"Nacho was there. Watched the whole thing."
Something flickers in Callum's eyes. Fear, maybe. Or calculation. Hard to tell with him anymore.
"It wasn't like that." His voice shifts, smoothing into the reasonable tone he uses in courtrooms. "I was trying to talk to her. She overreacted. You know how emotional omegas get."
"Choose your next words carefully."
He blinks at the steel in my voice.
"Sergio. Come on. It's me." He spreads his hands, palms up. The picture of innocence. "We've been friends since we were five years old. You're really going to take her side over mine?"
"Yes."
The word lands like a punch.
Callum's mask cracks. Just for a second. Underneath I see rage, hot and ugly.
"She's playing you." His voice goes hard. "All of you. The helpless omega act. The damsel in distress routine. She's manipulating you into feeling sorry for her."
"Funny." I fold my arms across my chest. "I've seen her walk away from everything she knew because staying would have destroyed her."
"She left me at the altar."
"Best decision she ever made."
His face goes purple.
"You son of a bitch." He steps closer, getting in my face. I smell whiskey on his breath. "I came to you. After she ran. I came to you for help finding her. And the whole time she was here. In your house. In your bed."
"She wasn't in my bed."
"Don't lie to me." Spit flecks his lips. "I know what's going on. The whole town knows. Four alphas and one omega. You think people aren't talking?"
"They can talk all they want." I keep my voice level. "I don't care what people think."
"You should care what I think." His finger jabs toward my chest. "I've known you longer than anyone.
I know who you really are. The control freak who can't let anyone close.
The ice king who'd rather run drills than deal with feelings.
You think Jessica's going to fix you? You think she's going to fill whatever hole your parents left? "
I grab his wrist before his finger can touch me.
The grip isn't hard. Doesn't have to be. Just firm enough to stop his movement. To remind him who he's dealing with.
"Don't." My voice drops low. "Don't talk about my parents."
Fear flashes in his eyes. Real fear. He's seen me angry before, but not like this. Not this cold, contained fury that's been building since Jessica walked through my door in a ruined wedding dress.
"Let go of me."
I hold his wrist for three more seconds. Then I release it.
Callum stumbles back, rubbing the spot where my fingers pressed. His breathing is ragged. His control is slipping.
Good.
"She's nothing." The words explode out of him. "You hear me? She's nothing. A late-presenting omega with no money and no connections and no future. I was doing her a favor by marrying her. I was giving her a life she could never have on her own."
"Is that what you think?"
His laugh is ugly, bitter. "I don't think it. I know it. I elevated her. I gave her access to a world she had no business being part of."
"And in return?"
“She was supposed to be grateful." His voice rises. "Instead she questioned everything. Argued about stupid things."
“Really?”
"She didn't know her place." Callum's face twists. "I spent two years trying to smooth out her rough edges. Trying to teach her how to behave. How to dress. How to talk to important people without embarrassing herself."
"You spent two years breaking her down."
"I spent two years trying to build her up!"
"You're delusional."
The word hits him like a slap.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." I step forward, and he steps back.
"You didn't build anything. You dismantled her.
Piece by piece. Criticism by criticism. You took a woman who was kind and funny and brilliant and you convinced her she was worthless.
That her needs were too much. That her feelings were unreasonable. "
"That's not..."
"I've known her for years." I cut him off. "I thought you loved her."
"I do love her."
"No." I shake my head. "You don't love her otherwise you wouldn’t treat her like property."
Callum's hands ball into fists.
"You want to hit me?" I widen my stance. "Go ahead. Give me a reason."
He doesn't move.
Smart. First smart thing he's done all day.
The front door creaks behind me. Footsteps on the porch. Carlos appears on my left. Nacho on my right. Pedro emerges from the side of the house, still wearing scrubs from his shift.
Four brothers. One line. Between Callum and the woman inside.
Callum's eyes dart between us.
"This is insane." His voice goes high. Desperate. "You're choosing her over me?"
"Yes." Carlos's voice is flat. No jokes. No humor.
"Without hesitation." Nacho crosses his arms.
"Should have happened sooner." Pedro's jaw is tight.
Callum looks at me. The friend he used to know. The loyalty he's taken for granted for three decades.
He won't find it.
"She's everything." I let the words settle into the silence. "She's everything, Callum. And you lost her the moment you stopped seeing that."
His face crumples.
For one second I see the boy I grew up with. The kid who shared his lunch when I forgot mine. The teenager who helped me through my first heartbreak. The man who stood beside me at my parents' funeral and didn't say a word because he knew words weren't what I needed.
Then the second passes. And all I see is what he's become.
"You'll regret this." His voice shakes with rage. "All of you. When she gets bored. When she moves on. When she realizes you're just a pit stop on her way to something better. You'll come crawling back."
"No." I hold his gaze. "We won't."
"I'll destroy you." He's backing toward his truck now, pointing, jabbing his finger at each of us. "I'll ruin your business. Your clinic. Your reputation in this town. My family has connections you can't imagine."
"Your family has money." Nacho's voice is ice. "Money doesn't mean much when the sheriff has video footage of you assaulting a woman in a grocery store."
Callum freezes.
"That's right." Nacho pulls out his phone. "Security cameras. Every angle. Your hand on her arm. Her telling you to stop. You refusing. Followed by her extremely satisfying act of self-defense."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Callum's face goes white.
"This isn't over." He wrenches open his truck door. "You think you've won? You think you're the heroes of this story? You're nothing but vultures. Circling a wounded animal. Taking advantage of a confused omega who doesn't know what she wants."
"She knows exactly what she wants." I speak over the roar of his engine. "That's what scares you."
He slams the door. Throws the truck into reverse. Tires spin on gravel, spraying rocks across the lawn as he tears down the driveway.
We watch until his taillights disappear around the bend.
Silence settles over the porch.
Carlos exhales. "Well. That went well."
"Could have been worse." Pedro scrubs a hand over his face. "Could have been violent."
"I was hoping it would be violent." Nacho tucks his phone back in his pocket. "Wanted an excuse to arrest him."
"Do you have footage?" I ask.
"Store owner sent it to me this afternoon." His mouth curves slightly. "Callum's not wrong about his family's connections. But connections don't matter when evidence is crystal clear."
I nod. File the information away.
The adrenaline is fading now. Leaving something hollow in its wake. Years of friendship. Gone in fifteen minutes.
I should feel grief.
I don't.
"Sergio." Carlos's hand lands on my shoulder. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
The front door opens behind us.
Jessica stands in the doorway. Bare feet. Oversized sweater that belongs to Nacho. Hair loose around her shoulders, blonde waves catching the porch light.
Her eyes are red. She's been crying.