Chapter 3 - Phoenix #2
I glance at Saint, wondering if he's thinking about his brother.
About the man who shares his blood but nothing else.
Saint left the Vipers five years ago, walked away from Demon and everything he represented.
The decision nearly destroyed him. Leaving family is never easy, even when that family is poison, but he's never looked back.
He hates Demon more than any of us. Hates what his brother became, what his brother stands for. Hates that they share a face, that people look at Saint and see Demon's shadow.
It's why he patches with us so hard. Why he's proven himself over and over, going above and beyond to show he's nothing like his older brother. The Iron Phoenix gave him a chance to be someone different, someone better, and he's never taken that for granted.
"You know my story," I say. "You know what Demon did to the good men who tried to stop him. You know Carter and I barely made it out alive. This fight, if it comes, it's going to be bloody. Brutal. No guarantees we all walk away from it."
"Don't care," Wraith says. "You gave me a patch when no one else would. Gave me a purpose when I had nothing. You think I won't fight for that?"
"For you," Canvas corrects. "We'll fight for you, Phoenix. You stood up to the Vipers once and paid for it. You think we're going to let them come into our territory and take what's ours? Think we're going to let them hurt someone you promised to protect?"
"Not a fucking chance," Diesel growls.
The loyalty in the room is palpable, thick enough to choke on. These men would die for me without hesitation.
"We do this right," Judge says, his voice cutting through the emotion. "We prepare, we plan, we make sure we're ready for whatever they throw at us. We don't go looking for the fight, but when it comes, and it will come, we end it. Permanently."
"The girl," Ranger says. "How much does she know?"
"About what?"
"About what's coming. About what she just walked into."
It's a fair question. Ivy came here looking for safety, not a war zone.
"She knows Cole will come for her," I say. "She knows the Vipers don't forgive and don't forget. But I don't think she understands the scope of what's about to happen."
"Someone should tell her," Echo says. First words he's spoken all morning. "She deserves to know what we're risking for her."
He's right. They're all right.
"I'll talk to her," I say. "But first I need to know… All of you, every single one, are you willing to do this? To stand between her and the Vipers? To go to war if that's what it takes?"
Nine hands raise simultaneously.
No hesitation. No doubt.
My brothers.
"Then we prepare for war," I say. "Brick, I want security doubled.
Cameras, patrols, the works. Wraith, start mapping escape routes in case we need to move her.
Canvas, reach out to your contacts, see if anyone's heard anything about Viper movements.
Diesel, make sure every bike is ready to ride at a moment's notice.
Saint, stock up on medical supplies. Ranger, I want defensive positions planned for the compound.
Echo, surveillance on all known Viper locations. Judge—"
"Already on it," he says. "I'll coordinate with law enforcement, make sure they know what's coming."
I'm about to dismiss them when I hear footsteps on the stairs.
We all turn.
Ivy appears at the bottom of the staircase, and I watch her take in the room full of bikers. Her eyes go wide, scanning faces, counting numbers. Nine men, all tattooed, all armed, all staring at her.
She freezes.
Then her gaze lands on Saint, and everything changes. The color drains from her face so fast I think she might pass out. Her hand flies to her mouth, and she makes a small, wounded sound that cuts straight through me.
"No," she whispers. "No, no, no."
She backs up a step, then another, her breathing coming fast and shallow. I'm moving before I think, crossing the room toward her, but she doesn't see me. She's locked on Saint, terror written across every feature.
"Ivy—" I start.
"Demon," she chokes out, her voice breaking on the name. "You're… How are you here… I don't understand—"
Oh, fuck.
Saint looks like Demon. Not identical. There are differences if you know where to look, but they're brothers. Same build, same general features, same coloring. Close enough that someone who's only met Demon a handful of times, someone whose brain is wired for threat recognition, might mistake them.
Especially when that someone has spent two years living in fear of the Vipers.
Saint's face goes white. "I'm not—" he starts, but Ivy's not hearing him.
She's backing up the stairs now, her hand scrabbling for the railing, her eyes wild. Trapped. She thinks she's trapped, thinks we lured her here, thinks this whole thing was a setup to deliver her back to the Vipers.
Thinks she's walked straight into a nightmare.
"Ivy." I keep my voice low, calm, the same tone I used last night when she showed up on my doorstep. "Look at me. Focus on me."
Her gaze jerks to mine, and I see the panic there, the desperation, the absolute terror. She's seconds away from bolting, from running back into danger because she thinks the danger followed her here.
"He's not Demon," I say clearly. "That's Saint. He's Demon's younger brother, but he's nothing like him. He left the Vipers five years ago because he hated what Demon was becoming. He's one of us. I swear to you, on everything I've built, he would never hurt you."
"He looks—" Her voice breaks. "He looks exactly like—"
"I know." I take another step closer, moving slowly, so I don't spook her further. "I know they look alike. I should have warned you, should have prepared you. That's on me. But Ivy, I promise you, Saint is not his brother."
Behind me, I hear Saint move. Ivy's shaking now, her whole body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. But she's listening. Some of the blind panic is fading from her eyes, replaced by confusion.
"You're his brother?" she whispers.
"Unfortunately." The word is bitter in Saint's mouth. "Can't choose family. Can't choose who you look like. But I can choose who I am, and I chose to be nothing like him. I'd rather die than be anything like him."
The hatred in his voice is real. Raw. After five years with the Iron Phoenix, Saint still can't talk about his brother without that edge of loathing creeping in. The betrayal of what Demon became, the shame of sharing his blood, it eats at Saint every day.
"I've never told anyone in the Vipers that I'm here," Saint continues. "Demon doesn't know where I am. Doesn't know I patched with Phoenix. If he did, he'd have come for me years ago. We're not… We haven't spoken in five years. We're not brothers anymore. Not in any way that matters."
Ivy's eyes dart between Saint and me, and I can see her trying to process this. Trying to reconcile the terror Demon represents with the man standing in front of her claiming to be his opposite.