Liam had just fucked any idea of peace between our groups to hell. He was feeding intel to the feds. Selling out our drops, mapping out where we had safe houses. Playing both sides, but I had caught him, which meant I had to be the one who delivered the punishment.
“I wanted to believe it was a lie,” I finally muttered. “I thought he’d say there was some bigger picture deal happening.”
Nolan let out a bitter laugh. “You always wanted to believe in people too long.”
“You never believe in anyone.”
“That’s not true,” Nolan snapped, eyes glaring at me. “I believe in you and Vince. Hell, I even believe in Tori when she isn’t being such a fucking brat.”
“That’s why we are still standing,” I said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my back pocket and placing one between my lips. I offered the box to Nolan, but he waved his hand, uninterested in picking up the habit, as he would say. Lighting the end, I took a long drag before letting the smoke billow into the night air before responding. “We all have each other. If we were truly in over our heads, we know any one of us would go to the ends of the earth to fix it.”
I glanced over at him, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. His gaze was locked on the bowl below us that held our mixed blood.
“I didn’t want to turn into him,” Nolan bit out.
He had always had a fear of becoming the kind of man his father was. And I don’t blame him. Lance Bedivere was the type of monster that was created in the darkest corners of hell. He had no regard for human life, and the hundreds of corpsesthat had been removed from the basement crawl space of the Bedivere family home had confirmed that.
Nolan had been barely six when his father had been sentenced to death. Not that he made it to the electric chair. They had found him dead in his cell only three days after he arrived in prison. I had dragged Nolan back to the club just as Astoria was always bringing strays in. My father must have seen the potential in the young boy, or he knew who his father was, because he didn’t fight me when I asked if Nolan could stay.
“You are nothing like your father,” I said firmly, but the tension in Nolan’s shoulders told me he didn’t believe me.
The silence was heavier this time. I knew there was no convincing him, not when he was so far in his head. But I couldn’t help but feel the same way as my best friend. I was just a pawn in my father’s plan. The prince of Lovelen, silver-tongued and dangerous when necessary. I could handle it, compartmentalize the pain and the shame. I had been forged to carry the weight. To pull the trigger. To slit the throats of our enemies.
“What if it had been me?” I asked suddenly, surprising even myself with the sudden question.
Nolan’s eyes snapped to mine. “What?”
“What if I were the one who broke the code? If I had made a mistake like that. Gave something away. Would you have finished me too?”
The muscles in his jaw twitched, eyes not even blinking as he stared me down.
“No,” he said simply.
“Why not?”
“Because I would never let it get that far, Kaius.” Nolan narrowed his eyes at me.
There it was. That twisted, fierce loyalty we both had for each other. The thing that we never said but always meant. Both of us would bleed for each other, kill without question, cover for the other, even if it meant betraying the very code we had just sworn in blood to. Because that’s what you did for a brother.
“I don’t need you to protect me,” I said, taking another long pull from my cigarette. The smoke burned my lungs, but at least I could still feel the pain.
Nolan stepped forward, hand still bleeding, voice sharp as razors. “I don’t protect you, Kaius. I stand with you. There is a difference.”
My throat tightened at the statement. We’d grown up in fire, both of us orphaned in different ways. I had a crown I had never asked for, a legacy soaked in secrets and blood. Nolan had a serial killer father and a mother who had run the second he was behind bars, leaving two boys to fend for themselves. We found each other in the wreckage.
The Knights of Lovelen had molded us. Twisted us into the men we were, but we had shaped each other into something more sacred.
Throwing down the cigarette, I stomped out the ember before offering him my bleeding hand. He didn’t hesitate, pressing his palm with mine. Blood smeared between our fingers like war paint.
“No more traitors,” I say.
“Only brothers,” Nolan answered.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
acelynn
The ghostly melodydrifted through the quiet, near-empty bar. Astoria had disappeared into the back with Nolan to count the till, and I’d offered to stay behind and clean up the bar for Josie. The last of the empty bottles clattered into the trash can as I swept through the space. Grabbing a cloth from the sanitizer bucket, I started wiping down the bar, working through the sticky residue left behind by spilled drinks and rowdy hands.
