It's a full celebration. Family. Brotherhood. Everything I lost when Nathan died, found again in this club.
"You ready?" King asks, standing in front of me with my new leather vest. No longer a prospect cut, but a full patch with SAVAGE RIDERS across the back and ROOKIE on the front.
My road name. I earned it. Kept it. Made it mean something.
"Yeah." My voice is steady. "I'm ready."
King holds out the vest, and I slip it on. The leather settles on my shoulders like it was made for me. Like coming home.
"Danny 'Rookie' Wells," King says formally, his voice carrying through the room. "You've proven your loyalty to this club. You've bled for us. Fought for us. Killed for us. Today, you're no longer a prospect. Today, you're a brother."
The room erupts in cheers and applause. My brothers crowd around, clapping my back, shaking my hand, welcoming me officially into the family.
Shadow is next, getting his patch with the same ceremony. Then Chaos, grinning like a kid on Christmas despite being the youngest of us. When it's done, when all three of us are wearing our patches, King raises his beer.
"To our new brothers!" he shouts. "May they ride with honor and die with their boots on!"
"To brotherhood!" everyone echoes, drinking deep.
I scan the crowd and find Amanda standing near the bar, one hand resting on her pregnant belly, tears streaming down her face. Happy tears. Proud tears.
I make my way to her, and she throws her arms around my neck.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispers against my ear. "My patched biker."
"Your old man," I correct, using the club terminology. "You're my old lady now. Official."
She pulls back, laughing through her tears. "Your pregnant old lady."
"The sexiest pregnant woman I've ever seen." I slide my hand over her belly, feeling the slight movement of our baby. "Carrying my kid. Wearing my mark. Mine in every way that matters."
"Yours," she agrees, kissing me.
A year ago, this seemed impossible. A cop and a criminal. Two people from opposite worlds trying to make something work that shouldn't.
But we did it. We made it work.
Amanda took a position in community outreach six months ago. Still a cop, but working with neighborhoods instead of patrols. It keeps her away from the violent calls, keeps her safer, and lets her actually help people the way she always wanted to.
Morrison wasn't thrilled about her relationship with me, but he couldn't deny she's good at her job. She's built trust in communities that haven't trusted cops in years. She's made a difference.
And she's done it while being my girlfriend. My partner. My everything.
We found out she was pregnant three months ago. I'd just finished fucking her against the shower wall when she mentioned her period was late. We bought six tests. All positive.
I thought I'd be scared. Thought I'd panic. But when I saw those two lines, all I felt was joy. Pure, overwhelming joy.
We're having a daughter. Found out last week. A little girl who's going to have her mother's green eyes and my stubborn attitude. A little girl I'm going to protect with everything I have.
"Rookie!" Beast calls from across the room. "Get over here. We're doing shots!"
Amanda laughs. "Go. Celebrate with your brothers. I'll be here."
"You sure?" I don't want to leave her.
"I'm sure." She pushes me gently. "This is your day. Enjoy it."
I kiss her once more, then head to the bar where Beast is pouring whiskey. Tank, King, Rage, Torch, Steel, Shadow, and Chaos are already gathered, shots in hand.
