Chapter Forty-Six Nathan

Icouldn't believe the look on Alex's face; total shock, like he'd just been slapped with the cold truth.

His eyes darted frantically, trying to make sense of the situation as I locked my gaze onto his, not a flicker of doubt in mine.

"Alex," I said, my voice flat and unyielding. It echoed slightly off the sterile hospital walls around us. The morning light filtering through the windows did nothing to soften the gravity of the moment. "What the hell is he talking about?"

The man was still babbling, pointing at Alex. My brother glanced between me and Knuckles, who had started moving toward him with a predator's slow certainty. There was nowhere for Alex to run, not here, not with us closing in. I could see the gears turning in his head, calculating his slim chances.

"Easy, Alex," Knuckles murmured, almost kindly, but there was an edge to his tone that belied any real comfort. He was a guy you didn't want to cross, the kind that hid a switchblade behind a smile.

"Let's just talk," I added, knowing full well how hollow the words sounded even as they rolled off my tongue. We stood there, the tension thickening like fog, each of us weighing the other, ready for whatever came next.

"Talk?" Alex's voice was a harsh whisper, his hands raised in front of him as if to ward off an invisible blow. "There's no fucking way I would ever hurt my brother. Justin…he had nothing to do with this." The words spilled out, raw and desperate, slicing through the heavy air between us.

I wanted to believe him. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to jump to his defense, to take his side like I had so many times when we were kids, when he would break things around the house. I'd been his stalwart defender for years against my brutal father.

But things had changed; the stakes were higher now, and blood ties didn't mean loyalty.

Not anymore.

Knuckles stepped forward, closing the gap with a few calculated strides, his eyes never leaving Alex. "Nathan," he said, turning his gaze on me for a moment, "Kenny has had me tailing your brother for a while. He suspected something was up."

The revelation hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. Ba—no, the Serpent—had sent Knuckles to shadow Alex? It meant he'd been doubting him too, and that doubt was a cancer in our world.

You cut it out, or it spread until everything rotted from the inside.

"Been watching you, Alex," Knuckles continued, his voice smooth but with a sharpness underneath, like a knife hidden under silk. "Your moves, the company you keep. I know what you've been up to." His brown eyes drilled into Alex's, seeking a crack in his facade.

"I've only been hanging out with Neon and Javi, just like always," Alex said. "Nathan—please."

Alex's shoulders stiffened, his eyes flaring with a mix of fear and defiance. I could see him wrestling with himself, whether to fight or flee. This wasn't just triad business; this was family, our bloodline threatening to tear itself apart.

And there I stood, caught in the middle, forced to choose between the brother I grew up with and the legacy of the Serpent that coursed through my veins.

"Look, I know what this looks like," Alex's voice was tight, the words tumbling out as he edged back. His retreat toward the door was slow, a careful dance of suspicion and self-preservation.

"Alex, we just want to talk," Knuckles said, his tone almost soothing. But there was an undercurrent of iron in it, a commander talking to a cornered soldier. "You've been spending too much time at Venom, and not just for bike tune-ups."

"It's a free world, isn't it?" Alex shot back, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him. His eyes darted from me to Knuckles and then to the door again. He was like a caged animal looking for an escape, and every muscle in my body tensed, ready for whatever came next.

"Brother to brother," I murmured, "I don't want to do this the hard way."

"Neither do I," Alex whispered, his back now nearly brushing the exit.

"Then stay," Knuckles implored again, stepping closer. "Talk to us."

But the plea fell on deaf ears. The atmosphere, thick with tension and distrust, choked out any chance of a peaceful resolution. My brother's eyes, usually mirroring my own, now held a look I couldn't fathom—a mixture of defiance and desperation that twisted in my gut.

"Alex, don't," I warned, but it was too late.

Something snapped inside me, some primal, territorial instinct that had been passed down from the Serpent himself.

I saw red.

In a blur of motion, all talk of reconciliation abandoned, I lunged at Alex, trying to grab him. My fingers brushed against the fabric of his shirt, finding no purchase. He ducked under my grasp with the agility that came from years of dodging blows both physical and emotional.

"Fuck this!" he spat out, his incredulity giving way to action.

With a forceful shove, Alex threw the door open, the metallic clang echoing through the sterile hospital corridor.

My heart hammered against my ribcage, every beat a war drum, urging me forward. I surged down the hall after Alex, my boots slipping on the polished floor as I rounded the corner. The distance between us narrowed and widened like an accordion as he weaved through the chaotic sprawl of gurneys and medical staff.

"Alex!" I yelled, but my voice was swallowed by the frantic pace of our pursuit. I hurdled over a gurney, its wheels spinning out as it collided with the wall. Nurses and doctors shouted in alarm, their faces blurring past as my focus tunneled on the retreating figure of my brother.

"Stop!" I heard someone call behind me, but they were part of another world—a world where rules and laws mattered. In my world, there was only the hunt and the hunted. And right now, Alex was prey wearing my blood.

I saw him glance back, his eyes wide with a feral kind of fear that edged him on faster. He knew what I was capable of. What I had done in the name of family.

He didn't want to be on the receiving end.

"Alex!" Knuckles echoed my cry from somewhere far behind. "Get the hell back here!"

But slowing down wasn't in either of our natures. Not when so much hung in the balance. It was a dance of shadows, him darting left as I veered right, trying to predict his next move. He shoved past a janitor, sending a bucket clattering to the floor. Water spilled across the tiles, and I skidded, barely keeping my footing.

"Damn it!" I cursed, feeling the slippery film beneath my boots. I couldn't lose him—not now. My lungs burned for air, each breath firing like a piston in my chest.

Ahead, Alex pushed through a set of double doors marked ‘Emergency Exit'. They swung shut with an ominous click, and I knew time was running out. I sprinted harder, my vision narrowing to the small window of opportunity as I barged through the same doors.

"Alex!" The word was a growl torn from the depths of my throat.

He was mere steps ahead, his breaths coming out in ragged pants that echoed in the stairwell. The pounding of our footsteps reverberated off the concrete walls as we descended, a chaotic rhythm to the madness.

"Stop running!" I bellowed, my voice bouncing around us.

"Can't do that, big bro," Alex shot back without turning his head, his tone laced with bitter humor and desperation.

In a flash, I lunged forward, my hand catching the back of his jacket. With a rough yank, I spun him around to face me, and my fist connected with his cheek. The impact sent a jolt up my arm, and for a moment, satisfaction flared hot within me when I saw the surprise in his eyes.

"Enough, Alex. You're done."

But he wasn't going down without a fight. His hands shoved hard against my chest, throwing me off balance. My boots slipped on the edge of a step, and I felt gravity seize me in a cruel embrace.

The fall seemed to last an eternity, my body tumbling down the stairs like a ragdoll. Each thud against the hard steps was a punctuation mark in the sentence of my downfall. Pain exploded across my back, my arms, my legs, until finally I came to a jarring stop at the landing.

"Fuck," I cursed through gritted teeth, the taste of iron filling my mouth.

I forced myself to look up, muscles screaming in protest, just in time to see Alex's retreating form burst through the door at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't look back, not even once.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed through the pain, staggering to my feet. I wouldn't let it end this way. Not when so much was at stake. I hobbled after him, each step a study in agony and resolve.

The cool morning air hit me as I emerged onto the street, the sun barely cresting the city's skyline. People were beginning to fill the sidewalks, oblivious to the drama unfolding. I scanned the area, searching for any sign of him, knowing he couldn't have gotten far.

And then I saw him—one more glance over his shoulder, a silent acknowledgement that this chase wasn't over. But Alex was moving too fast, his lean form cutting through the crowd with the desperation of a man on the edge. And there, curbside, was his escape: Neon Nelson revving the engine of a sleek motorcycle, its chrome glinting in the morning light.

"Alex!" I yelled, my voice ragged. But he didn't stop; he couldn't afford to. The betrayal that hung between us was a chasm too wide to cross with words alone.

I pushed harder, ignoring the fire in my lungs and the protests of my battered body. The distance between us dwindled, but not fast enough. With a swift leap, Alex mounted the bike behind Nelson, who wasted no time peeling away from the curb. The roar of the engine taunted me, a guttural laugh at my failed attempt.

"Dammit," I spat out, slowing to a stop as the bike took a sharp turn and vanished from my sight. My chest heaved, and my hands clenched into fists so tight my knuckles turned white.

Alex…

Alex had almost killed Justin.

Ba had abandoned us all.

And I had failed.