The message burns against my thigh like a goddamn warning.
Tour money would solve it, but that would also mean Effa would need to go back sooner, and I won’t rush her recovery because ofmy mistake.
I won’t take more of her money either.
Jett’s voice still echoes in my head—aboutbeing a kept man,aboutriding her success.
I’d rather bleed than become that, even if it costs me.
Even if Vex comes knocking.
This is the one thing I willnotlet Effa carry.
This secret ismine.
And I’ll fix it.
One way or another.
Chapter Eighteen
MERCS
Start of November
The day we got the diagnosis that Kiera was sick, it felt like the ground opened beneath me.
Mom had died from the same thing. I’d watched it eat her from the inside out, watched the light fade from her eyes while I stood there useless, too young and too powerless to do a damn thing about it. So when the doctor said the words, when the air in that sterile office shifted, and the world narrowed to a single ringing note in my ears, I was right back there again.
Except this time, it was my little sister.
Growing up, watching Kiera turn into this stunning, stubborn, sharp-tongued woman… it’s the kind of thing you don’t appreciate until you’re terrified of losing it. She’s always been fire, even when she was stuck inside, even when life tried to cage her, she still burned.
But Kiera has something Mom never had.
She has us.
Gran, me, Effa, and the whole damn chaotic universe that somehow wrapped itself around our small town and refused to let go.
And we’re here now because Effa stepped in. Because she refused to accept that this was the end of Kiera’s story. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know where we’d be.
Probably still scrambling.
Probably still drowning.
Instead, I’m pacing a hospital room waiting for my stem cells to do what medicine promises they can do, and I’m nervous as fucking hell. Everyone else is talking like this isn’t the biggestday of my life. Luke’s discussing tour logistics in a low voice while Raoul’s staring at the floor like someone shot his dog. Effa’s calm… too calm, and Gran’s murmuring something about positive energy.
Meanwhile, I feel like my skin doesn’t fit.
A hand grips my arm, and I glance down to see the kind face of Gran.
I stop pacing. Her eyes shine, but she doesn’t let the tears fall. She’s weathered and strong, carved from the same mountain we were.
“Shewillbe fine, Kaden,” she says softly. “We’re all here. There’s power in that. Good energy. You have to believe that.”
I swallow and nod once.
Effa moves to Gran’s side, slipping an arm around her waist. “Absolutely. The more of us thinking it, willing it, the better the outcome. She’sgoingto be fine. You’ll see. She’ll be back in here in no time, bossing everyone around again.”
