He stands and pulls me up with him, then sweeps me into his arms. I gasp but don't protest, just wrap my arms around his neck and let him carry me down the hallway to his bedroom.
Our bedroom now, if I'm really staying.
Door closes behind us, and the rest of the world falls away.
We don't sleep much that night, but when we finally do, it's tangled together in Shaw's bed with his arm locked around my waist like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go. Moonlight filters through the curtains, painting silver across the planes of his face, and I lie awake watching him breathe. Memorizing the moment. The peace in his expression, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers flex against my hip even in sleep.
This is what safety feels like. What home feels like. What choosing someone—really choosing them, darkness and light together—feels like.
Morning light filters through those same curtains and paints gold across Shaw's sleeping face, replacing the silver with warmth. He's on his back with one arm draped possessively across my waist, breathing deep and even. Peaceful in ways I haven't seen since before the investigation turned dangerous, since before someone threatened to take me from him.
I stretch against him, and the movement sends heat into his eyes as they open. "Morning."
"Morning." He pulls me closer, hand sliding possessively down my spine. "Sleep okay?"
"Better than I have in months." I kiss his jaw, tasting salt and warmth. "What time is it?"
His phone buzzes on the nightstand. Shaw reaches for it, checks the screen—a text from Will asking if he's coming to the shop today or taking the day off after closing the case. Shaw responds that we'll be there this afternoon and sets the phone aside.
"Early enough that we don't have to rush." His hand finds the back of my neck, thumb stroking the pulse point there. "Thought we'd head to the bar later. Let the brothers see you're sticking around."
Understanding dawns. "Making it official."
"Making it visible." He traces patterns on my bare shoulder. "You're mine. I want everyone to know it."
I kiss him, soft and certain. "I like the sound of that."
We take our time getting ready, moving through his house like we've done this routine together for years instead of hours. Coffee in the kitchen happens alongside breakfast made together. Comfortable silence that doesn't need filling with unnecessary conversation.
This is what comes after the case closes. This is what we're building together.
By the time we arrive at Ironside Customs, the shop is already busy with brothers working on various builds. The rumble of engines and clank of tools create the familiar soundtrack to Brotherhood life.
Normal sounds. Normal work. Normal routine after weeks of abnormal stress.
Cole looks up from the bike he's assembling when we walk in together. "Shaw. Mira."
"Morning." Shaw keeps his hand on my lower back, a visible claim that every brother in the shop can read. "What are we working on today?"
"Custom build for that client from Portland. Needs the frame modifications finished before we can move to paint." Cole's gaze flickers between Shaw and me, reading the situation accurately. "Good to see you both."
He turns back to his workbench, shoulders carrying tension I haven't seen in him before. Something's wrong. Cole's always controlled, always calm, always the steady VP who keeps the business running smoothly while Will handles the bigger picture.
But right now? Right now he looks like a man under pressure.
Shaw's noticed too. I can tell by the way his attention sharpens, tracking Cole with the same intensity he brings to fire scenes.
Other brothers call greetings as they notice our arrival. Tate grins from his position near the welding station. Mike looks up from the engine he's rebuilding and nods approval. Danny's working on a custom paint job in the back bay, and Jackson's handling intake paperwork at the front desk.
Will emerges from his office, takes in our joined presence, and nods approval before heading back to whatever administrative work demands his attention.
I fit into the space like I belong here. Move through the shop with confidence instead of the cautious observation I had during the investigation. Ask questions about builds, show genuine interest in the craftsmanship, earn respect from brothers who value competence and authenticity.
This is what comes after the case. This is what we're building together.
Shaw catches my hand and pulls me toward a quiet corner away from the noise of the shop floor. I come willingly and settle against him.
"You sure about this?" he asks, giving me one more chance to back out. "Once the Brotherhood knows you're mine, there's no taking it back. You'll be family, which means protection and support and involvement in everything we do."
