I look down at my feet, the knowledge that I let her down in any way twisting like a knife in my gut.
“The tracker was crossing a line,” Stone continues. “And I know why you did it. But that’s the problem. You love her so much you can’t see when you’re hurting her. When you’re taking away her choices.”
“Dad—” Emma starts.
“But.” Stone cuts her off. “You also love her enough to let her go. Love the club enough to respect my decision. Respected her enough not to go after her even when it was killing you. You maintained that distance, kept her away from the mess we’ve been cleaning up ever since Summit crossed that line. That’s more than most men would do in your position.” He glances at Emma. “Hell, it’s more than I did when your mother wanted to leave.”
The apartment is dead silent.
Stone takes a breath, straightens his shoulders, and I see the president slide back into place.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says, voice firm now. “Bones, you keep your patch. But you don’t get your rank back. Not yet. Maybe not ever. You work construction, you show up for club business when called, and you prove you can follow orders, even when they’re hard.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“And Emma.” He turns to his daughter. “You want to be with him? Fine. I’m not going to fight you on it anymore. You’re a grown woman. You want to move back to Stoneheart, you want to shack up with Bones, you want to work at the bar, teach ballet at the community center, or just sit on your ass all day and eat waffles, I don’t care. As you continue to point out—it’s your life. Your choice.”
Emma’s mouth drops open. “That’s it?” she sniffs, wiping another tear from her cheek.
Stone huffs out a breath, halfway between amusement and defeat. “That’s it.”
She crosses the room and hugs him. Stone’s arms come around her immediately, holding her tight. “Thank you, Dad.” Her voice muffles in his chest, but I recognize the catch in her breath. I try not to let my own eyes sting, but fuck me, twenty-nine years old and I still feel like a five-year-old getting permission to keep my puppy.
Stone pats her back, then holds her at arm’s length, eyes boring into her. “If he screws this up, you let me know.”
She nods, fierce. “If he screws this up, I’ll handle it myself.”
“That’s my girl.”
He looks at me, warning flashing in his eyes: “You hurt her, fuck this up in any way, you lose more than your patch. We clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good.” He releases Emma and moves toward the door, then pauses with his hand on the knob. “And Bones? Take that tracker out. Not because it’s wrong—though it is—but because she isn’t a thing that needs an AirTag.”
“What if I want to keep it?” Emma says.
And Stone looks weary the moment his eyes land on her. “Please don’t fight me on this one thing, Em. You want to carry a tracker with you, fine.Carryone. Don’t live your life with one embedded under your skin like you’re livestock.”
Emma sighs, and I can already see her plotting all the ways she’ll get around this particular rule. But she nods. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Stone’s hand is on the doorknob when he pauses, looks back at both of us.
“This doesn’t mean I’m happy about any of this,” he says, voice flat. “This doesn’t mean I trust you the way I did, Bones. But Emma made her choice.” His eyes land on his daughter. “And I’m not losing you over this.”
Then he leaves, and we both just stand there listening to his boots stomping away. After a second, Lee pokes his head in. He gives Emma a nod before glancing my way.
“Welcome to the family, brother.” His wry tone is almost supportive. Then he shoots Emma another grin and disappears down the stairs after Stone.
Our little apartment is suddenly silent. The only sound is the coffee maker still dripping and the faint, raw hiccup in Emma’s breath as she leans back into the wall and lets the tension bleed out of her.
“That went better than expected.”
I let out a breath that’s half laugh, half disbelief. “Your dad just gave us permission to be together. Reluctantly.”
“Yeah.” She walks over to me, wraps her arms around my waist. “I’ll take it though.”
I pull her close, rest my chin on top of her head. “You really would have cut off your dad for us?”
