The tension ratchets up about fifty notches. I can feel violence brewing, that electric charge in the air before fists start flying.
"Enough!" I snap, and maybe it's the post-partum hormones or the exhaustion or the sheer audacity of these men almost starting a fight outside my hospital room, but something in myvoice makes everyone stop. "This is a hospital. There are sick people here. Children. Families trying to heal. And you're going to stand here and threaten each other over motorcycle club politics?"
I turn to the Coyote Fangs member who's trying to collect Miguel. "He's meeting his nephew. His sister just gave birth. If your President has a problem with that, he can take it up with Miguel later. But not here. Not now."
Then I turn to Tommy. "You want to meet Santiago? You can. Two at a time. Quietly. Like civilized humans instead of territorial animals."
"Yes, ma'am," Tommy says, and there's the slightest hint of amusement in his expression.
I look at Miguel. "You have to go with them, don't you?"
His expression is resigned. "Yeah. I do."
"Will you be okay?"
"I've had worse." But the way he says it suggests he's expecting exactly that—worse.
"Sunday," I say firmly. "Six o'clock. At Abuela's. You be there."
"I'll be there. I promise." He looks at the Coyote Fangs members. "Let's go. I'm coming."
He walks past me, pauses to squeeze my shoulder. "Thank you, mija. For letting me meet him. For giving me another chance."
"Always," I whisper. "You're my brother. That doesn't change."
I watch them leave—Miguel and the Coyote Fangs members, tension evident in every line of their bodies. Whatever happens when Miguel gets back to his President won't be pleasant.
But he came. He met Santiago. He's trying.
That has to be enough for now.
"Okay," I say, turning back to the Iron Talons members. "Who wants to go first?"
The next hour is surreal.
Tommy comes in first with Joker. Tommy, who's now Zane's VP, who's been there from the beginning of this chaos. He holds Santiago with the careful reverence of someone who knows how fragile babies are.
"He's perfect," Tommy says quietly. "Congratulations, Lena."
"Thank you. For everything. For supporting Zane."
"That's what brothers do." He looks at Zane. "You did good, Z. The vote, the baby, all of it. I'm proud of you."
Zane's expression does something complicated at that—the closest thing I've ever seen to him being genuinely moved
Blade comes next with Colt. Blade makes a joke about Santiago having "good head shape for a helmet," which is absurd but somehow sweet. Colt's wife Maria sends her congratulations and a promise to bring food by the house when we're settled.
Each Iron Talons member who comes in treats this moment with respect. They're meeting their President's son, yes. But they're also meeting a baby. A tiny person who has nothing to do with club politics and everything to do with hope for something different.
After the Iron Talons members leave, I'm exhausted beyond words. Zane can see it, starts ushering the last few visitors out.
"She needs rest," he tells Blade. "Tell anyone else who's planning to visit that they can come by the house next week."
"Will do. Congratulations again, both of you."
After everyone's gone, it's just us. Me, Zane, and Santiago in the suddenly quiet hospital room.
I sink into the bed, every muscle aching. "Today was insane."
