Chapter 69

Chapter 69
Deacon

I sat in the security office outside the house combing through the mess of trouble coming for Lorcane. The day Lorcane meets the Hatter is a day for the history books. This man, Iris's father, is something of merit in the Midwest. He just surfaced on the playbooks around California. Makes me wonder if maybe he reached out this way when his daughter came here. He never seemed to have any interest in business out here before she was here. Unwilling to let his little girl go maybe. The glow of the monitors painted the room in hues of electric blue and shadowed gray, a stark contrast to the rising sun clawing its way through the blinds. I leaned forward, my hands resting lightly on the desk, my eyes scanning the screens as if the answers to their survival were hidden in the flickering data. Every word, every movement felt heavier than usual, a weight I had grown accustomed to but never quite accepted. I could feel the storm brewing—not just in the mission ahead, but in the unspoken tension weaving through our whole team like a taut, fraying thread. 

Iris entered, her presence commanding yet quiet, her resilience etched into every deliberate step. I felt an odd mix of admiration and caution whenever she was near. She carried scars—visible and hidden—and for reasons I couldn’t quite articulate, her strength reminded me of my own vulnerabilities. Ryker, as steady as a mountain, was close behind her, his protective gaze meeting hers in a way that spoke volumes. I often wondered how someone could harbor so much unyielding loyalty without cracking under its weight. As I turned back to the screens, the tension in my chest tightened. This wasn’t just another mission; it was a collision of past regrets, present fears, and future uncertainties. And yet, amidst it all, I knew one thing for certain: this was not the moment to give in to the fear. The storm outside mirrored the chaos within, but I had long learned that storms weren’t meant to be avoided—they were meant to be harnessed. With a deep breath, I steadied myself. If survival meant confronting ghosts and staring down enemies, then so be it. Because in the end, it wasn’t just about the fight—it was about what waited on the other side of the storm. 

I wanted to get back to my family. I wanted to get back to normal life. I am a soldier in this war. I accepted that a long time ago. When I just did small security for Ryker Lorcane, prosecutor. Before Ivy. Before he found himself wondering in the badlands. Back in the darkness. When he mixed his life with the snakes and wolves. Before Lorcane was born. I watched as he harnessed that darkness and stood steadfast in the wake of it. Ryker Lorcane was my boss, my friend, and my brother. I believe in the fight he started back then, and I believe in continuing the fight now. My family doesn't understand that, but they don't need to. They don't know the whole story. This started as a fight against the war on trafficking. A war on sex slavery and abuse. It has since snowballed into a war between crews of evil against one man. Lorcane. I will stand beside him. I will protect Iris. She has since become like a little sister to me. I didn’t know the Flower was a part of her. Not until last night, but I did know she was more than Ryker could see. I don't see her differently because I knew she had something inside of her from the beginning.  

Iris walked up to me and smiled. “I guess you know me better now too.” I nodded and kissed her hand. “I have always known you darlin.” I said as she sat down in the office chair beside me. “Can you show me? What my father has been up to since I left?” The glow of the monitors painted Iris’s face with shadows and flickering light, her expression a careful balance of curiosity and trepidation as she leaned closer to the desk. Her fingers grazed the edge, hesitant yet deliberate, echoing the tension in the room. I began pulling up files, the weight of their contents pressing against the fragile silence between us. As the screen filled with names, dates, and connections, the tangled web of power her father had spun revealed itself in stark clarity. A man who wielded influence like a blade, precise and unrelenting. But Iris’s gaze never faltered—she absorbed it all, the truths she had long avoided now illuminated in the harsh light of reality. Her presence, unyielding yet vulnerable, reminded me of why this fight mattered, not just for her but for the countless others standing in the shadows of men like her father. “This isn’t just his legacy,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest. “It’s yours to rewrite. And I think you’re ready.” She turned to me, her expression sharpening, and in that moment, I knew she wasn’t just watching history unfold—she was preparing to face it head-on. “You are right, D. I left Ohio to escape his influences. It seems he has followed me the whole time. When he left...” Ryker walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder, startling her. “When he left, I was told I couldn’t be his daughter anymore. His number two, Becker, changed everything for me. That’s how I was able to have a whole new identity.” She smiled up at Ryker, “but I guess he wasn’t ready to let me go.”  

Ryker crouched down in front of Iris, his gaze steady and unwavering as he took her hands in his. The warmth of his touch seemed to anchor her, pulling her back from the tumult of emotions swirling around them. “Iris,” he began, his voice low but firm, a raw sincerity threading through every word. “Your father may not have been ready to let you go, but that doesn’t mean he gets to define who you are or what you become. Not anymore. "He paused, his thumb brushing lightly across her knuckles, his expression softening just enough to reveal the depth of his care. “You’ve carried so much for so long—his expectations, his world, his shadows. But you’re not his weapon. You’re not his legacy. You’re your own person, Babygirl. And the strength I see in you, the fire you carry? That’s yours. Not his. Yours.” Ryker’s voice grew steadier, more resolute, as though willing her to believe the words he spoke with every fiber of his being. “It doesn’t matter what web he’s spun or how far his influence stretches. You’ve already done the hardest thing—walking away. And now, if he’s trying to pull you back, we’ll face him together. We’ll face whatever comes, Iris. You’re not alone in this. Not now, not ever.” Iris smiled and looked from Ryker to me. “I am glad I walked into that college course classroom.”