I step onto the porch as the convoy of motorcycles turns into our long driveway, the familiar rumble echoing across the property. King leads the way, Luna riding behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist despite now having her own bike. Behind them come the others. Tank with Amelia and her daughter, Beast with Jenny and their newborn daughter in a custom sidecar, Rage with Claire and Eli, Torch with Sidney and his kids, Shadow, Chaos and Rookie who are now full members and the new prospects.
Our extended family, arriving in force.
King pulls up first, cutting his engine and helping Luna dismount. She's elegant as always in jeans and a flowing top that does little to hide her growing baby bump.
"Good timing. Grill's just about to get started."
King clasps my hand in our usual greeting, the respect between us evolved from president and member to something closer to equals, to family. "Beast bring his new cargo?" he asks with a smirk.
"Precious cargo," Beast corrects as he lifts a baby carrier from the sidecar. His week-old daughter sleeps peacefully despite the motorcycle journey, already accustomed to the rumble of engines. Jenny follows, looking tired but radiant as she checks on their baby girl.
"Six pounds, ten ounces of pure attitude," Beast announces proudly, bringing the carrier over for inspection. "Already got her daddy wrapped around her finger."
"Welcome to the club," Torch laughs, his arm around Sidney as their children race to greet Naomi inside. "It only gets worse from here."
The yard quickly fills with activity. Prospects setting up extra tables and chairs, Amelia and Claire arranging the food they've brought, Tank and Rage manning the grill with me while King holds court in the center of it all, the unquestioned patriarch of our unusual family.
Holly emerges from the house freshly showered, immediately wrapped in hugs from Luna and the other women. Their easy camaraderie still surprises me sometimes. Holly, my sweet nurse who once knew nothing of club life, now completely at home among these strong women who've all found their places alongside the Savage Riders.
"How's she doing with the night feedings?" I overhear Luna asking Beast, who looks comically exhausted despite his imposing size.
"She's got lungs like her mother," he replies with a loving glance at Jenny. "Argues all night, sleeps all day. Already taking after the club."
Laughter ripples through the group. These gatherings are different now. Children playing where once we plotted war strategies, babies sleeping in carriers where once we cleaned weapons, women at the center rather than relegated to the periphery.
As dinner is served, we settle around the extended tables in our backyard. King stands, raising his beer in a toast.
"To the Savage Riders," he begins, and we all raise our glasses.
"To peace hard-won," he continues, his eyes moving around the circle, lingering on the children playing nearby, the new babies, the women who've transformed our brotherhood into something richer, more complex, more complete.
"And to Steel and Holly," he concludes, turning to us, "who opened their home to us today and remind us what we fought for. The chance to build something that lasts."
"Hear, hear!" The chorus rises around us as Holly squeezes my hand under the table, her eyes shining with emotion.
The meal unfolds, and I find myself sitting back, observing more than participating, soaking in the scene that would have seemed impossible two years ago.
"Penny for your thoughts," Holly says quietly, leaning against my shoulder as Naomi dozes in her lap, worn out from the excitement.
"Just thinking about that first night here," I reply, my arm slipping around her waist. "When it was just the three of us, hiding out from Vulture, not sure what would happen next."
She follows my gaze across the yard, taking in our extended family. James now deep in conversation with Shadow about a restoration project, Beast cradling his newborn while Jenny eats, Tank teaching Eli and Anna some kind of hand game, Torch helping Max build a structure out of twigs.
"Did you ever imagine this?" she asks.
"Not in my wildest dreams," I admit. "I was just hoping we'd all survive. This..." I gesture to the scene before us, "...this is beyond anything I could have hoped for."
"Me too," she agrees, leaning up to press a soft kiss to my jaw. "But I wouldn't change a thing."
As the sun sets, someone starts a bonfire in the pit I built last fall. The children gather around for s'mores under Claire and Amelia's supervision, while the adults break into smaller conversation groups. King approaches us, taking the seat across from where Holly and I sit with sleeping Naomi.
"The club's voting next week on the final transition plan," he says, keeping his voice low. "Moving to fully legitimate operations across the board, official incorporation of all businesses, healthcare for all members and families."
It's the culmination of years of planning, of extracting ourselves from old alliances and obligations without triggering new wars. "You think it'll pass?"
"Unanimously," King confirms. "Everyone is on board now. The peace of the last two years has been good for business and morale. No one wants to go back to looking over their shoulders constantly."
I think about what this means for all of us. True security, stability, a legacy we can pass to our children without fear or shame. "Never thought we'd see it happen," I admit.
