“We need to fix him,” Morpheus said, his voice flat. “Before he becomes a liability.”
“And if we can’t fix him?” Vortex asked.
The silence that followed was answer enough.
They would kill him.The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. If Nano couldn’t be controlled, if he couldn’t be brought back in line, they would put a bullet in his head. And part of me, the part that was still sane, still rational, knew that would be the smart thing to do. But another part of me, the part that was just as broken as he was, recoiled at the thought.
Why do you care?I didn’t know. I didn’t understand why the idea of Nano dying made something twist painfully in my chest. He was a predator. A sadist. A man who’d choked me until I came and then walked away like I was nothing. I shouldwant him dead. I should be relieved at the thought of him being removed from the equation. But I wasn’t.
“So what’s the plan?” Cobalt asked.
Morpheus looked at me, his expression cold and calculating. “Sink or swim time,bitch,” he said. “Let’s see how well your balls keep you afloat when you’re drowning without air.”
Chapter Nineteen
Nano
It was late when we rolled back into the clubhouse. It was past midnight, the hour when the world felt suspended between one day and the next. Scythe killed the engine on his bike, and Wanderer followed suit. The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the distant hum of the highway and the creak of cooling metal.
I swung off my bike, my body still thrumming with the adrenaline of the ride. We had been out handling club business. Nothing major, just a reminder to a debtor who had gotten too comfortable with his excuses. Standard shit. The kind of work that usually left me feeling centered and focused.
But tonight, nothing felt centered.
Tonight, I felt like I was coming apart at the seams as we walked into the clubhouse together, boots heavy on the wooden floor. The gathering room was mostly empty, with just a few club whores passed out on the couches, and a prospect asleep in a chair with his head tilted back at an uncomfortable angle. And at the bar, nursing beers like they had been waiting for us, sat Morpheus and Cerberus.
Prez looked up as I approached, his expression unreadable behind those dark, calculating eyes. There was a weight to his gaze that made my skin prickle. Cerberus didn’t even glance my way. He just kept his eyes fixed on his beer, as if it held theanswers to questions he hadn’t asked yet. His knuckles were white around the glass, tension radiating from his hunched shoulders.
I took a seat next to them. The stool creaked under my weight. The bar felt smaller now, the air thick with unspoken threats. Scythe and Wanderer flanked me on either side, silent and watchful as stone guardians. I could feel their presence like a shield at my back, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough if this went sideways.
Morpheus took a long pull from his beer, savoring it like a man who had all the time in the world. Then he set it down with deliberate care, the glass meeting the wooden bar with a softthunkthat somehow felt louder than it should have. His jaw worked for a moment, grinding his teeth.
“I’m giving you one chance, Nano,” he said, his voice low and flat, each word measured and precise. “Only one. What you do with it is up to you. But make no mistake.” He leaned in closer, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath mixing with the beer. “If I don’t get my money soon, I will kill the bitch and cut your brand from your body myself.”
I stared at him as my mind struggled to process his words.
One chance. What the fuck does that mean?
I looked to Scythe, then Wanderer, searching for some kind of clarification, some hint that they understood what was happening here. They both shrugged, their expressions as confused and bewildered as I felt. Nobody seemed to know what Morpheus was getting at as he leaned against the bar, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense, his eyes locked on mine with an unwavering focus that made my skin prickle. “Her room is unlocked,” he said, his voice muted but deliberate. “You have seventy-two hours. Make them count.”
His words hit me like a freight train, stealing the breath from my lungs.
Her room is unlocked.
Four simple words. Four words that changed everything.
I understood immediately. His implication was crystal clear, and the weight of it settled over me like a heavy blanket. This was my chance, maybe my only chance, to find the answers I had been searching for. He was giving me permission. Permission to do whatever the fuck I wanted to her. No restrictions. No oversight. No brothers watching to make sure I didn’t cross a line. No consequences. No judgment. No accountability. Just me. And her.
And seventy-two hours that stretched out ahead of me like an eternity.
The monster inside me uncoiled. It had been sleeping, dormant, restrained, held back by Morpheus’ warnings and my own fragile attempts at control. Chained down by necessity and fear of what would happen if I let it loose. But now it woke, stretching and yawning and filling every corner of my body with its presence. It pushed against the bars of its cage, testing them, finding them gone.
I felt it in my chest, in my gut, in the way my hands shook. In the sudden rush of heat that flooded through my veins. In the pounding of my pulse that echoed in my ears like a war drum. My breathing changed. It was deeper, slower, more deliberate. Every nerve ending came alive with anticipation.
Happy. Scared. Elated. Terrified.
All of it at once, a chaotic swirl of emotion that threatened to drown me.
I stood without a word, my legs moving before my brain could catch up. My body felt distant, like it belonged to someone else entirely. To someone who knew what they were doing, someone who had made peace with whatever came next. Scythe and Wanderer didn’t try to stop me. They didn’t even exchange glances. Maybe they understood this was something I had to doalone, or maybe they had simply given up on trying to save me from myself.
