“Savage Hearts?”I raised a brow.
“That’s what Atilla calls this place.”Maui motioned toward the house and the gardens and the people scattered across the yard.“Says you and Ace have the savage part locked down.The hearts are obvious.”
The name settled into place inside me, true in a way I felt more than understood.“I like it.”
“Thought you might.”He went to help Ace carry platters.
I stayed where I stood for a moment and let everything settle in around me.Laughter rolled across the yard.Sunlight warmed my face.Belonging wrapped around my ribs like something solid I could lean on.
Nothing about this life happened by accident.Board by board, we rebuilt.Day by day, we chose peace over survival mode.Fear got replaced by roses.Cookouts replaced hiding.Home became something we claimed instead of something we waited to lose.
The celebration was only beginning.
And I was ready for all of it.
* * *
The afternoon slipped into a soft rhythm after everyone ate.Full stomachs, music humming low from portable speakers, kids running between tables.I carried a stack of empty plates toward the serving table when the sharp tap of glass on glass cut through everything.Atilla’s signal.Every conversation faltered without anyone being told to quiet down.
Plates settled from my hands to the closest table.Ace moved beside me before I even tracked him.His palm landed low on my back, warm and steady, a wordlessI’m here.
Atilla stood by the fire pit holding a beer bottle in one hand.His other hand motioned toward Spade, who stepped forward carrying a canvas-wrapped object long enough to capture everyone’s attention.A strange shape.Too carefully protected to be casual.My heartbeat crept higher without fear, only curiosity.
“Been working on somethin’.”Atilla’s gaze locked on mine.“This place needs a proper name.”
Spade kneeled and peeled back the canvas layer by layer.The fabric fell away to polished walnut carved deep and clean.Sunlight struck the letters and sent heat through my chest.
Savage Hearts.
“At the front gate.”Atilla ran a calloused hand across the carved letters.“So every person coming up the road knows exactly who they’re approaching.Not a random house.Not a place a biker built because he could.”His gaze stayed on the sign as he spoke.“This is where two people who’d been broken by life built something worth defending.”
Murmurs rose around the circle.Ace’s hand pressed firmer against my back.
Atilla looked at me.Really looked.“You came to us running.Scared.Always braced for pain.Always expecting someone to take from you.”His voice roughened.“But you didn’t stay that way.You learned how to stand strong, not just survive.You showed every one of us what a savage heart looks like.”
Heat rushed behind my eyes.My throat tightened, but I held my ground.
Then he shifted focus.“And, Ace.You gave her a reason to stop running.You fought for her peace.You gave her a future instead of just safety.Takes a savage heart to protect someone that fiercely.”
He raised his bottle high.“To Savage Hearts.”
The crowd answered in one voice: “To Savage Hearts.”
Ace wrapped both arms around my waist and pulled me tight to his side.My fingers reached toward the sign without conscious thought, tracing the grooves of the carved letters.Smooth wood.Deep cuts.Someone spent hours on this.Someone cared enough to shape permanence from raw lumber.
Late-day sunlight painted everything gold, catching chrome along the driveway and flickering through glass bottles being lifted in toast.The whole scene looked like something out of a photograph.Except nothing here was staged.Nothing here was pretend.
Maui called out first.“You gonna cry?Because if Ace cries, I want proof.”
Ace answered without heat.“Keep talking and you’ll cry.”
Laughter broke across the group.Casey nudged Maui’s ribs.“Who built a chicken coop because his daughter wanted eggs?”
He froze for a beat.“That’s practical.”
“Same thing,” General said from behind him.“A man builds security for people he loves.Doesn’t make him domesticated.Makes him smart.”
The hug from Casey came fast.She smelled like smoke and sugar from her baked beans.“Look at you.It’s wild to remember the woman who walked intoThe Broken Spokefor the first time.”
