Page 31 of Saint’s Revenge

"I know." I look down at my hands. They're clean now but I can still see blood on them if I close my eyes. "I'm... processing."

"That's one word for it." Phoenix is not pushing but not letting me deflect either. "You want to talk about it?"

"No." The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. I force myself to breathe. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Fair enough." Phoenix stands. Crosses to a cabinet in the corner. Pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Pours two fingers in each and hands me one.

I don't argue. I just take the glass and drink. The burn is welcome. Something I can focus on that isn't guilt.

"I held him while he died," I say. "Told him I forgave him even though I'm not sure I meant it. And he apologized. For Riley. For everything. Asked me not to let him die alone."

Phoenix sips his whiskey. Waits.

"He was scared at the end." My voice cracks. "Not Demon anymore. Just Daniel. Just my brother who was terrified and didn't want to die."

"You stayed with him anyway."

"Yeah."

"That took strength, Saint. More than pulling the trigger. Staying with him, making sure he didn't die alone despite everything he'd done, that's the hardest thing you could have done."

I down the rest of my whiskey in one swallow. "Doesn't feel like strength. Feels like I murdered my own brother and then pretended I was doing him a favor."

"You stopped him from hurting anyone else. From destroying what was left of his club. From killing Riley or any of us." Phoenix refills my glass. "That's not murder. That's protection. Sometimes those look the same but they're not."

"He beat Riley until her ribs broke because she called me. That's on me."

"No. That's on him." Phoenix's voice is firm. "He chose to hurt her. He chose violence over every other option available. You didn't make him do that."

"If I'd stayed five years ago—"

"You'd be dead or you'd be just like him," Phoenix interrupts. "Stop torturing yourself with what-ifs. You made the choice that kept you alive and sane. And last night you made the choice that ended a war and saved lives. Both of those were the right calls even if they don't feel like it."

I stare into my whiskey. Want to believe him. Want to accept that I did what I had to do and let it be enough. But I keep seeing Daniel's eyes. Keep hearing his voice. Keep feeling the weight of his body going slack.

"How long does it take?" I ask. "Before it stops feeling like I ripped my own heart out?"

"I don't know." Phoenix's honesty is brutal but appreciated. "Maybe it never does. Maybe you just learn to carry it better."

"That's not very comforting."

"No. But it's true." He pauses. "You've got Riley now. You've got the brothers. You've got people who understand what you did and why you did it. That's more than most people get when they're trying to process something like this."

I nod. Don't trust my voice.

Phoenix stands and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Get some sleep, Saint. Real sleep. In a bed. Riley's safe. The clubhouse is locked down. Nothing's going to happen in the next few hours that requires you to be awake."

"I need to check on her."

"You know she's stable. Sleeping. She doesn't need you hovering right now. She needs you rested enough to actually take care of her when she wakes up." He squeezes once. "That's an order, brother. Go sleep."

I want to argue. Want to insist I'm fine and go back to Riley's room and keep watch as I have been. But I'm so goddamn exhausted, and Phoenix is right. I'm no good to anyone like this.

"Yeah. Okay." I stand.

Phoenix walks me to the door. "Saint?"

I look back.