“Hells no,” I said quick. “The new woman. Lark. She was rescued from a cult. Club business.”
Daddy just nodded, understanding born of years patched in leather and loyalty. He didn’t ask questions that weren’t his to ask.
Briar smirked. “Heard you carried her out yourself. Real hero stuff.”
Ma set the eggs down hard enough to rattle the silverware. “You can chase ghosts all you want, Calder Riggs, but don’t you go chasin’ after a vulnerable woman unless you mean it.”
That stopped me cold.
“Who said anything about chasin’?”
“Nobody,” she said, sittin’ down. “Just a mother’s instinct.”
The room settled after that. The scrape of spoons. The soft whir of the ceiling fan. The dog floppin’ under Daddy’s chair. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Just the kind of quiet that came when everyone at the table was lost in their own thoughts.
Daddy broke it. “You know,” he said, leanin’ back, “when I was your age, hell, younger even, I thought freedom was the road. Turns out, it’s just findin’ a woman worth comin’ home to.”
Ma smiled at him, soft and sure, like she’d heard it a thousand times and loved it every one.
Briar nudged my boot under the table. “Hear that, big brother? Might learn somethin’ if you’d ever sit still long enough.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Maybe you will too.”
But the truth settled heavy while we ate. I’d always wanted what they had. Somethin’ unshakable. Honest. My old man never once strayed from Ma, not even back when the clubhouse was wild and untamed. I knew because I used to follow him at club parties, hidin’ behind coolers and stacks of tires, waitin’ to catch him flirtin’ or disappearin’ somewhere he shouldn’t.
He never did.
He’d have a drink, stay awhile, then come home to her.
He chose her. Every damn time.
I didn’t know if I’d ever find that, but I’d sworn I wouldn’t claim any woman until I did.
When breakfast wound down and the laughter eased into that warm Riggs-family lull, I hugged Ma, nodded to Daddy, kissed Briar’s forehead, and headed outside. I swung a leg over my bike, the leather seat still cool from the morning air, and fired it up.
The ride back felt different in the early light.
Softer. Slower. Like the world hadn’t fully woken yet. Sunlight cut through the trees in broken strips, warm against myshoulders. The Harley hummed beneath me, smooth and sure, carryin’ me down roads etched into muscle memory.
I should’ve felt settled.
I didn’t.
Breakfast had been too good. Ma fussin’. Daddy’s dry humor. Briar’s smart mouth. It filled a space in me I’d been pretendin’ wasn’t empty. The club gave me purpose. The bar gave me routine.
But my parents’ house?
That gave me peace.
And suddenly, peace didn’t feel like a luxury. It felt like a hunger I’d ignored too damn long.
Daddy and Ma had a love that could anchor a storm. And me? I wanted that. Always had. Just never thought I’d find it.
The road curved through the back fields, sunlight shimmerin’ across tall grass, turnin’ the world gold. I eased the bike slower, breathin’ in the warm air. It should’ve been enough. The morning. The road. The freedom I’d clung to my whole life.
But it wasn’t.
Every time I blinked, I saw her.
