“Lark.” He reached out, cupping my face gently. “I didn’t do a damn thing but sit in this clubhouse drinkin’. I was a fool, and I know it.” He hesitated, then said the next part like it scared him. “But you hid from me. If you’d come back here, I don’t doubt for a second we’d have fought it out and worked through it. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”
I sighed heavily. “I know you’re right,” I admitted. “But I could have clawed your eyes out when I saw you with Sugar.”
He huffed out a rough sound. “No different than the feelin’ I had when I saw you with that bastard.”
“Did you find Zach?” I asked.
“No,” he snarled. “Place was deserted. But I’m not givin’ up. He hurt you, and I don’t plan on lettin’ that slide.”
“I don’t want to live there anymore,” I said, leaning into him. “In the past. In the hurt. I just want to forget it all and start a life with you.”
He froze. “You mean that?” His voice dropped. “Don’t go playin’ with me, darlin’. My heart can’t take it.”
I looked at him, really looked at him, at the man who came for me when it mattered most and the man who’d made mistakes and owned them.
“Yes,” I said. “I love you, Chain.”
His forehead came to rest against mine. “I love you too.”
The swing creaked again, slow and steady, and for the first time in my life, I knew everything was going to be alright.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
THE CLUBHOUSE WASlouder than it needed to be.
Not drunk-loud. Not fight-loud. Just full. Voices layered over one another, boots scuffin’ the boards, laughter rollin’ out the open doors and spillin’ into the warm Carolina night. Bikes lined the lot like sentries, chrome glintin’ under the porch lights. This place had seen blood and hell and grief, but tonight it felt different. Like it was holdin’ its breath.
I stood near the edge of the porch, fingers curled into fists, the ring heavy in my pocket. Felt like it weighed more than any piece of metal had a right to. I’d faced guns without flinchin’.Took hits I knew might put me in the ground. None of that rattled me like this did.
Because this wasn’t about survival.
This was about askin’ for a future.
Lark stepped out onto the porch with Briar right behind her, Briar leanin’ in to whisper somethin’ that made Lark huff a laugh and roll her eyes. That smile damn near knocked the breath clean outta me. Every time. Like my chest hadn’t figured out how to brace for it yet.
She wore jeans and a soft shirt, nothin’ fancy, her scars visible, her chin lifted. No hidin’. No apologizin’ for the space she took up. Just her. Whole and real and stronger than anyone had a right to be.
Mine.
My ma sat in one of the porch, hands folded in her lap, watchin’ us like she already knew how this was gonna end. Daddy leaned against the railing, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone until our eyes met and he gave me a short nod. Approval. Support. Maybe pride. I took it all the same.
Briar caught my look and shot me one back that said if you screw this up, I will bury you myself.
Fair enough.
The rest of the club was standing around tryin’ not to look like they were waitin’ on something.
I cleared my throat and stepped forward. The noise eased, like the club itself leaned in to listen. Lark’s smile faltered, confusion flickerin’ across her face.
“Chain?” she asked softly.
I stopped in front of her, close enough to feel her warmth, close enough that my breath finally slowed. I took her hands in mine, careful. Always careful. Lovin’ her meant rememberin’ where she’d been without ever draggin’ her back there.
“I’m not much for speeches,” I said, my voice rough with my nervousness.
A few low chuckles rolled through the crowd, but I never took my eyes off her.
“I grew up believin’ in forever,” I said. “My ma and daddy showed me what it looked like, and I wanted that kind of love from the time I was old enough to understand it. Somewhere along the way, I started thinkin’ maybe it wasn’t meant for me. Then you came along, and all of a sudden that dream didn’t feel so damn far outta reach.”
