“I love you, Elizabeth Victoria Hale Delaney, whatever the hell your name is,” I whisper, my voice shaking but sure.
Her eyes lock with mine, and with a steeliness I haven’t seen from her before, she nods against my forehead. “I’m Victoria Delaney… no more pretending.” Her smile curves against my lips. “And I love you, too, Diesel Moretti.”
She slips the chip into her pocket, the engraved metal catching one last flash of moonlight before it disappears. Mythumb brushes her jaw, memorizing her face as a coyote howls in the distance.
Mine.
Finally. Completely. Permanentlymine.
***
When we arrive back at the clubhouse, the brothers are in full celebration mode. Marcus’ photograph sits on the mantle now, honored properly the way he should have been from the start. The weight of that secret, of protecting Victoria by hiding the truth, has finally lifted.
A round of celebratory drinks is being shared as we enter the room. Ro steps up to Victoria and me as we walk into the middle of the clubroom. “Beer for you, Pres, and something sweeter for you… wait! I can’t call you Lizzie anymore,” Ro says to Victoria, handing her some fruity-looking drink.
Victoria takes the drink from Ro with a warm smile. “How about Vicky?” she offers as a compromise, and Ro lights up.
“Oh, thank God you’re sticking around. I was going to have a full meltdown if you were gonna leave us, Vicky…” she pauses, scrunches up her face, and shakes her head. “Vicky feels too‘good girl’for you. How about Vicks?” Ro’s eyes light up, and she nods her head in her own approval. “Yes! That’s the one. You happy with that, Vicks?”
I raise my brow at allthis, while Victoria simply smiles and leans out, pulling Ro in for a tight hug. Ro beams from ear to ear, hugging Victoria back. “How the hell could I give this place up? I love you all too much.” They pull apart, and Ro glances over her shoulder at Gia.
“See, Gia, she loves me. Told you it was only a matter of time.” Ro winks at Victoria, then takes off back to the bar to get more drinks.
I wrap my arm around my Old Lady while she chuckles beside me. “Happy?” I ask her.
“Ecstatically.”
I lean in to kiss her, as someone starts clinking on the side of a glass, making us break apart. I let out an audible groan. “Fucking timing,” I mumble under my breath, making Victoria giggle beside me.
“To Marcus!” Ghost raises his glass, and the room echoes with the toast.
“To Marcus,” Victoria whispers beside me, tears shining in her eyes.
I pull her close, and she fits against me like she was designed to be there.
Maria stands awkwardly near the bar, still in her professional clothes, looking as out of place as a cop can look in a biker clubhouse.
But she’s here.
My mother is here.
“Brothers,” I call out, and the room quiets. “This is Maria. My mother. Chief Detective Maria Moretti.”
Their heads all nod, and then the respect comes, because she helped save us. She put her career on the line to take down Rourke and the Alliance.
Nitro nods at her from across the room. Even he can’t argue with results.
Maria crosses to me, and we share a moment that’s still strange, still fragile, but real. “I’m proud of you, Diesel. Of what you’ve built here.”
The word feels foreign on my tongue, but I say it anyway. “Thanks, Ma.”
Her eyes fill with tears she doesn’t let fall, and she squeezes my shoulder before stepping back.
We have a lot of years to catch up on, and the road to reconciliation won’t be paved overnight, but I am sure that with time, we can build our relationship back again.
Later, when the celebration has mellowed into easy conversation and laughter, I find Nitro out front of the clubhouse with his flute. The melody he’s playing is melancholy, haunting, processing everything that’s happened.
“You good, brother?” I sit beside him.
