Her eyes widened. “What has to happen?”
I freed myself, then ran a thumb over her cheek. “What must.”
Leaving her wide-eyed and wary, I made my way across the floor and stood beside the man who had done more for me than any other father would do for his son. Rubix had ruined that title but Wallstreet had redeemed it.
His papery, dry hand squeezed my shoulder. “Stand right there, Kill. We have an announcement to make.”
This is it.
I grinned. “Sure thing.”
Someone passed me a beer and I waited as Grasshopper was summoned to the front and made to stand on the other side of Wallstreet. His eyes met mine. He shook his head once.
I toasted him. Every heartbeat I felt lighter … as if this was my true freedom. The day I’d checked out of jail, I’d left behind lessons for an apprenticeship, but tonight was my graduation.
I wasn’t sad.
I was fucking joyous.
Once we were in place, Wallstreet addressed his Club.
“As you all know, I enlisted the help of Kill to lead you guys away from temptation and into the light.”
Some men snickered.
Cleo crept closer to the front.
“Killian has done everything I ever asked of him with absolute precision and loyalty. I couldn’t have asked for a better acting president and will always be indebted to him.”
A few beers were raised; agreement passed around the room.
Signaling for quiet, Wallstreet continued. “We all agree that without Kill the peace and wealth enjoyed by our members wouldn’t have been possible. We can also agree that Kill is more than just your acting president; he’s been fundamental in saving others outside our brotherhood. He’s taken on my quest and excelled at it.”
“Here, here!”
“Damn right!”
Brothers laughed and applauded.
“Long live Pure Corruption!”
I held up my hand. “Enough. I have a big enough ego as it is.”
Wallstreet chuckled. “You never had an ego.” Turning his attention to Grasshopper, he eyed the crowd. “All of that you know. I don’t need to tell you what a great man Kill is. However, what you might not know is Hopper is my biological son.”
The room suddenly lost its party vibe, screeching to a stop. Men poised with bottles on their lips; women froze.
Despite all our talks in prison, Wallstreet had never mentioned in exact detail how he would get his Club to approve another chain of command. Placing me in his stead hadn’t been easy. There’d been scuffles and in-house battles—men had been killed over loyalties to unworthy leaders. But Grasshopper was one of us. He’d been there with every reform and was loved by everyone.
The exact sequence of handing over leadership hadn’t been planned because a future could change so fast. So many variables could’ve gone wrong. I might’ve been killed trying to tame the Club—he might never have gotten an early pardon.
Life had an uncanny way of changing carefully laid plans.
But it was an unwritten rule: even though Pure Corruption had been mine—it had always been borrowed not permanent. Ultimately it was Wallstreet’s conception and would always be his.
I glanced in Cleo’s direction. Her jaw was tight, eyes locked on the man who gave me the skills I needed to not only survive but also to extract the perfect revenge.
An ending that’d given me the peace.
Wallstreet continued. “It’s true. Back in my youth, I met a woman who turned out to be the love of my fucking life. Unfortunately, I was too stupid to know it at the time and only found out after her death that I had a son.” He smiled proudly at Hopper. “Jared has proven himself just as trustworthy and hardworking. He’s gone above and beyond and ruled beneath Kill with grace befitting any VP. They truly are brothers, in every sense of the word, and I’m so happy to say that I’ve been graced with two incredible sons.”
Shit.
My heart squeezed.
Wallstreet flung an arm over my shoulders. “I don’t care that you’re not blood, Kill. I don’t care that there’s no law abiding document saying you belong to me. As far as I’m concerned, I’m your father and Hopper is your brother.” Slinging his arm around Grasshopper, he grinned. “You’re my family. I couldn’t have picked worthier men.”
His blue eyes glowed with sudden intensity. “I’ll never discount what you did for me or forget your allegiance, Kill. I know I speak for everyone that you’ll be one of us for fucking ever.”
I was a grown man—a fucking president of a Club. I’d killed and tortured and lied. But hearing such praise from a man who I’d looked up to for so long squeezed my lungs with pride.
Grasshopper laughed, punching his father lightly in the gut. “All right, old timer. Enough scotch for you. You’ve gone fucking sentimental.”
The Club continued to watch, not interrupting our strange, fantastical family moment.
Family.
Shit, I had a new family.
A family who got me—who understood my drive and cherished the gifts I’d been born with.
Cleo glided closer. Her body wasn’t as fluid as normal, her feet hesitant and unsure. Her suspicions and concerns about Wallstreet were unfounded but I couldn’t deny her instincts had proven to be right.
All along he’d had ulterior motives—motives she might not like—but once she understood why, she would grudgingly admit that it made sense.
Everyone would admit that in order for us to move forward, this was how it had to be.