Page 23 of Saint’s Revenge

"She stays," I say. My voice is firm. Certain. "For as long as she wants. She's not going anywhere until she's fully healed, and even then, only if she chooses to leave."

Riley's eyes fill with fresh tears. "Lucas…"

"You called me to end this war," I continue, looking at Phoenix now. "You gave us intel that saved lives. That ended Demon before he could kill more people. You risked your life to do the right thing when it mattered most. That makes you family as far as I'm concerned."

Phoenix holds my gaze for a moment. Then nods. "All right. She stays." He stands. Looks at Riley again. "Welcome to the Iron Phoenix, Riley Mason. Don't make me regret this."

"I won't," she whispers.

Phoenix heads for the door. Pauses with his hand on the handle. "Saint, get some sleep. You look like death. Canvas and Eden are on watch if Riley needs anything."

"I'm staying with her."

Phoenix glances back. Something almost like approval flickers across his face. "Figured you would. There's a couch in the corner. Use it."

Then he's gone.

The door closes. Silence settles over the room again. Just me and Riley and the steady beep of monitors.

Riley shifts slightly on the bed, winces from the movement. "Phoenix seems... intense."

"He is." I stand. Start pulling the couch from the corner toward her bed. "But he's fair. He wouldn't have offered you anything if he didn't mean it."

"He offered it because you asked."

"Maybe." I get the couch positioned next to her bed. Close enough that I can reach her if she needs anything. "But he made his own decision. Phoenix doesn't do anything just because someone asks. He does it because it's right."

She watches me settle onto the couch. "You trust him."

"With my life." I lean back against the thin mattress. "He gave me a second chance when I showed up here three years ago. Didn't ask too many questions about where I came from or what I was running from. Just gave me a place to belong."

Riley is quiet for a moment. Then: "Do you think Daniel could have had that? If he'd left when you did?"

The question catches me off guard. I think about my brother, the version that existed before everything went wrong. Before the violence became a habit instead of a necessity.

"I don't know," I say honestly. "Maybe. Or maybe he was already too far gone by then and I just didn't want to see it."

"You saw it." Her voice is soft. "That's why you left."

I close my eyes. "I guess, yeah."

Silence again.

"Lucas?" Her voice is smaller now. Tired.

"Yeah?"

"Will you tell me about them sometime? Your brothers here. The club. What your life's been like the last five years."

"You really want to know?"

"I want to know everything I missed." She pauses. "If you're willing to share it."

Something loosens in my chest. "Yeah. I'll tell you. When you're stronger."

"Is that your way of telling me to sleep?"

"Yeah." I reach over. She's already extending her hand toward me. I take it, our fingers lacing together like they used to when we were kids sneaking out past curfew. "You need rest more than you need my life story right now."