All Chapters of Broken Wings : Chapter 31 - Chapter 38

Outside the club, the chaos was beginning to settle. Sirens still echoed faintly in the distance, but the smoke had thinned. The girls were being loaded into vans under police supervision, many wrapped in blankets, heads down, silent with exhaustion or quiet tears.Reyes stood by the open door of a police SUV, his arm hurt, his body aching with fatigue and blood loss. Before getting in, he turned and called out—“Red.”Red looked up from where he stood near the club entrance, arms folded. He jogged over, still alert, like a soldier waiting for another shoe to drop.“You need something?” Red asked.Reyes looked at him, those stormy gray eyes cutting straight through the smoke and noise.“I want you to go with the girls. To the safe house.”Red raised a brow, half a smirk pulling at his lip. “What, you think I’m one of the girls now? I don’t need a damn babysitter, Reyes. I can save myself, thank you very much.”Reyes didn’t blink. “It’s not about you. It’s about them. They’ll feel safe

The old house reeked of sweat, dust, and desperation. A dim lamp buzzed overhead, casting long shadows that twitched with every flicker. Riko paced like a caged animal, his steps sharp and uneven across the rotting wooden floor. His eyes, bloodshot and wild, never settled on one spot for long.“She’s waiting for me,” he muttered. “She’s scared, that’s all. They’re confusing her, feeding her lies. But she knows—deep down—she knows I’m the only one who ever really protected her.”Milo sat on the edge of a torn couch, rubbing his temples. “You’ve been saying the same thing for three days, man,” he said, not unkindly, but drained. “Our guy already told us. She agreed to cooperate with the cops. She's under protection.”“She’s not cooperating, she’s surviving,” Riko snapped, spinning toward him. “Don’t you get it? That place—those people—they got in her head. She’s scared. I need to get to her. I have to.”“You want us to walk into a trap?” Milo asked, voice rising. “They're hunting us lik

The sound jolted him awake.A sudden rustle, the creak of bedsheets, then hurried footsteps across the floor. Reyes sat up from the armchair beside the bed, eyes sharp despite the haze of sleep. The safehouse was quiet—too quiet—except for the distant echo of retching.He was on his feet instantly.The bathroom door was half open, light spilling out into the hall. He stepped closer, heart thudding, and found her there—on her knees, hunched over the toilet, her body trembling with each heave.“Lena,” he said, voice low, controlled.She didn’t answer—just leaned forward again, another wave of nausea wracking through her. He moved to her side, crouched down, and gently gathered her hair, holding it back. His other hand rested on her back, steady and warm.She coughed, gagged, then slumped forward, breath ragged.“I’m sorry,” she whispered.“Don’t be,” he said simply. “Just breathe.”When her body stopped fighting, she leaned back against the cold tile wall. She looked pale, dizzy. He ros

The courtroom was silent but charged with tension.The survivors sat in one row — Lena at the center, shoulders squared, her fingers intertwined with Monica’s. On the other side, the accused: Eric Perez, better known on the streets as Riko, leaned back in his chair, eyes twitching with suppressed rage. Next to him sat Emilio Santos, cold and unmoved. Knox Keller and Brick Dalton flanked them, shame written across their faces. In a separate section sat Judge Malcolm Hanlon and Councilor Emmett Vesnik, both pale, defeated.Detective Jackson Reyes stood near the back, arms crossed. He didn’t blink as the judge entered.The Honorable Judge Evelyn Hart, known for her ruthless intolerance of corruption and exploitation, adjusted her glasses and looked directly at the defendants before reading the court’s decision.Judge Hart’s Final Verdict…“This court has heard harrowing testimony. We have seen videos, medical reports, burned evidence pulled from the ashes of a farmhouse, and witness acco