"He died. Both my parents did. I was twenty-three. My brother Carter was twenty." I can still remember that day with crystal clarity. The phone call. The hospital. The way Carter shook apart in my arms at the funeral a few days later. "Hit-and-run that was never solved. But everyone knew the truth. The Vipers were already sliding toward darkness, and my father had been too vocal about pulling them back."
Understanding dawns in Ivy's eyes. "Demon killed them."
"Not directly. But he ordered it, I'm sure of it. Sent a message to anyone else thinking about challenging his vision for what the club should be." The anger is old but not faded. Never faded. "We stayed in the Vipers after that. Stupid, maybe, but we didn't know where else to go. The club had been our whole lives."
"So, you watched it get worse."
"Yeah. Watched Demon turn it into something unrecognizable. Watched him kill good men one by one for refusing to go along with his plans. Tried to stop it until trying almost got us killed too." I meet her eyes. "That's when Carter and I left. I built theIron Phoenix to be what the Vipers used to be. What my parents believed a club could be."
"That's why this matters so much to you," Ivy says quietly. "It's not just about me or the war or stopping Demon. It's about honoring your parents. About proving they were right."
She's smart, cutting through to the heart of it.
"Yeah," I admit. "Every decision I make, I filter it through one question: would my parents be proud? Would they look at what I've built and see their vision realized? Or would they see me becoming just another version of what Demon is?"
"You're nothing like Demon."
"I hope not." The words come out rougher than I intend. "But sometimes I wonder. I left instead of fighting. Let him keep destroying lives while I built something new somewhere else. How many people suffered because I chose to walk away instead of ending him when I had the chance?"
"How many people have you saved by building the Iron Phoenix?" she counters. "How many lives have you protected? How many people has this club helped?"
I don't have an answer for that. Don't keep count of the good we've done, only the bad I've failed to prevent.
Chapter 6 - Ivy
Phoenix doesn't have an answer for my question, and I can see the weight of it settling over him. This man, this president who built an entire motorcycle club on principles and honor, has been carrying guilt for three years over a choice that probably saved his life.
"You keep talking about your brother," I say, because I've been wondering about this since last night. "Carter, right? Is he—" I stop, unable to finish the question.
Did he die too? Is Phoenix carrying the guilt of losing his brother on top of everything else?
It's hard to ask, invasive maybe, but I want to know everything about Phoenix. Want to understand the man who's standing between me and the Vipers, who's preparing to go to war because I knocked on his door at four in the morning.
Phoenix's expression softens. "He's alive. Safe. He's with another MC, an honorable one. The Savage Riders."
Relief floods through me so fast I almost sag. "He left the Iron Phoenix?"
"Officially, he never joined it." Phoenix's voice holds no bitterness, just acceptance. "When Carter and I left the Vipers, we went separate directions. I came here to Millhaven, built the Iron Phoenix from the ground up. Carter went to Blackwater Falls and ended up patching in with the Savage Riders."
"Why didn't he stay with you?" The question comes out before I can stop it. "You're brothers. You survived the Vipers together. Why would he leave?"
"Because he needed to step out of my shadow." Phoenix says it simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm three years older. I've always been the one who went first, took thehits, cleared the path. Carter spent his whole life following me, being my little brother, existing in my wake. When we left the Vipers, he saw a chance to be his own man. To build his own identity instead of just being Phoenix's brother."
"You supported that," I say.
"Of course I supported it. I'd have done the same thing in his position." Phoenix shifts against the dresser, and I catch myself noticing the way his muscles move under his t-shirt. "Carter needed to prove himself on his own terms. The Savage Riders gave him that chance. They're good men. Nine of them, all patched, all honorable. Their president is a guy named King. Solid leader, runs a clean club. Carter's happy there. That's all that matters to me."
"Do you see him often?"
"Every few months. We talk regularly, visit when we can. The bond between us is unbreakable." His voice is certain. "Distance doesn't change that. Different cuts don't change that. He's my brother. That's forever."
The love in his words makes my chest ache. I can't remember the last time someone talked about family with that kind of conviction, that certainty of belonging. My parents loved me, but they've been gone for seven years. And Cole… Cole talked about the Vipers like they were family, but it was the kind of family that devoured its members.
This is different. This is real.
"Are you going to tell him?" I ask. "About the war? About what's coming?"
Phoenix is quiet for a moment, considering. "Yeah. I'll call him today."
