Page 45 of Secret Betrayals
“We’re heading to the surgical wing. Family waiting room. The doctor’s name is on the note.” His voice is tight, controlled. He’s keeping it together for all of us.
We ride up to the third floor in silence. The kind that buzzes like a fuse burning down. When the doors open, we flood out and start moving. Heather’s still got a death grip on me like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling apart. Luna looks a little better now, less dazed. Nitro and Ma flank her, whispering, holding her up. Ma keeps looking back to check on Heather, but her focus is clearly on her granddaughter.
Pop walks beside Ma, solid as always, though his silence speaks volumes.
Heather and Ma never clicked. No one knows why. Ma’s never said much—until after Luna was born. We were all celebrating the baby, and Ma just kept watching Heather like she was trying to figure out a puzzle she didn’t like. Talon asked her about it once.
“Shadows consume that girl,”Ma had said.“Her eyes are filled with nothing but deception.”
That was it. Talon brushed it off, figured Ma didn’t think Heather was good enough for him. But she’s kept her distance ever since. Only deals with Heather when she has to.
Just before we hit the waiting room, Pop turns back.
“I’ll be right back,” he mutters, heading toward the desk. Probably checking in, making sure they know we’re here for Talon. Doubt that the poor girl downstairs called up—she looked ready to faint.
Heather lets go of me as we stop and watch Pop walk away. I’m watching him when I feel the shift and hear Heather bellow.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? BITCH. THIS IS FOR FAMILY ONLY. YOU. AIN’T. FUCKING FAMILY.”
Heather’s voice slices through the hallway like a blade. I whip around and charge into the room.
She’s toe-to-toe with Gabriella.
And I mean nose-to-fucking-nose.
My jaw tightens. I didn’t even know Heatherknewwho Gabriella was. Sure, she knew the history. But going from sobbing mess to ready to murder in a second? Didn’t see that coming.
At the clubhouse, Heather was single-minded—get to the hospital, see what’s going on with Talon. She didn’t seem to catch much of what happened between me, Gabriella, or the boys.
My hand finds my jaw, still tender from my so-called nephew, clocking me earlier. Kid’s got a right hook, I’ll give him that.
Heather pulls back like she’s about to slap Gabriella, but doesn’t get far.
One of the twins has a gun to her temple before she even finishes raising her hand.
“I dare you, bitch,” the boy says, voice cold, expression colder. “Give me a fucking reason to end you.”
Heather stiffens.
Slowly, she turns her head, hand still frozen midair, moving like she knew one wrong twitch might get her brains blown out. And she wasn’t wrong. I closed the space between us, eyes locked on the kid with the gun. Heather glared at him, nostrils flaring like she had something to prove. Gabriella, meanwhile, looked chill as fuck, like this was just another day. The boy pushed the barrel harder into Heather’s temple, his stare blank and lethal, daring her to test him.
“Sebastian,” Gabriella said, voice flat like she was already bored with all of us.
I reached for Heather, tried to pull her back. She resisted, still deadlocked on Gabriella and her son, like she was ready to throw hands—or worse. But I didn’t let up. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and tugged at her. Reluctantly, she stepped back, closer to me.
I was burning inside.
This little punk already disrespected my brother earlier today—pulled a piece on him. Now he’s got it aimed at his ol’ lady? Nah. Nah, fuck that. I’m done watching this little fucker mouth off and point heat at my family like he’s bulletproof. But beforeI can go off, Gabriella speaks again. Saying his name, Malakai, and then something in what I think is Italian.
The exchange is smooth, practiced—like this isn’t their first rodeo. What I catch is her saying something about “Cameras off. No witnesses.” At least I think, even though we are Italian on Ma’s side, we never really learned the language, but we sure as shit got cussed out in it a few times.
“I don’t know exactly what the fuck any of you are saying, and honestly, I don’t give a fuck,” I snap, loud enough to let the others know what time it is. “You’re not welcome here. You’re not family. So get the fuck out.”
My voice carries through the room just as Ma, Pop, and more of my brothers file in and take in the scene. Heather doesn’t miss a beat.
“You heard Axel, bitch.GET. THE. FUCK. OUT!” she yells, jabbing a finger toward the door like it’s a damn sword.
The kid—Sebastian—still has the gun pointed at Heather, and now he's looking at me like he wants to take my fucking head off. His jaw clenches, and I can see it—he’s got that killer energy. I don’t doubt for a second that he’d pull the trigger. But I don’t flinch. I meet his stare head-on.
