I stood, still holding her, and pulled my kutte off.
“Just until you get your own,” I murmured.
Her hands trembled as she pulled it on. It drowned her a little, but she looked right in it. Like she’d always been meant to wear my colours.
She beamed at me. Pure light. Pure home. My woman. My future. The wife I never thought I’d deserve.
But she proved me wrong every day. She wasn’t going anywhere, and it was my turn to prove I’d never let her down. Not once. Not ever.
She stood, glowing in the firelight, my patch over her shoulders, my ring on her finger, and all I could think wasmine. Not in a possessive way. She was mine the way a soul finds its match. Mine, because she chose me. Even after all the shit I’d dragged her through with Caleb, Gabby, and nearly losing her to the Fangs.
Maria stepped forward, her coffee mug still in hand. Her voice carried over the cheers, calm and certain. “Family. That’s what she is. Don’t any of you forget it.”
The noise softened, turned reverent. Nods rippled through the crowd, a couple women wiping at their eyes. Maria brushedher hand over Lucy’s arm, steady and protective, and Lucy’s breath hitched. Maria had anchored her in ways I couldn’t.
Across the fire, Riot leaned back, grin sharp as a blade. He lifted his beer high.
“’Bout damn time, Pres. Thought I was gonna have to drag your stubborn ass there myself.” The club roared with laughter, but his voice dropped low when he leaned towards me. “You got her. Don’t let go.”
I nodded once. He’d been watching me fight it from the start. Now, he knew I’d finally stopped running.
Maria tried to step past, but Riot’s arm hooked her waist and tugged her down onto his lap. She yelped, swatted at him, but her laughter betrayed her. He kissed and sucked her neck bold as ever, and the brothers jeered good-naturedly. Maria rolled her eyes but melted into him, smiling wide.
Lucy laughed beside me, and damn, I was smiling too. Riot and Maria. Me and Lucy. The club watching, not with suspicion, not with knives drawn, but with pride and acceptance.
I pulled Lucy closer, kissed her temple, and let Riot’s voice cut through the noise.
“Raise ’em high, brothers. To the Pres and his old lady!”
Bottles shot up. Glasses too. Even Maria’s mug.
The roar rattled the trees as beer spilled, smoke curled, and voices thundered into the night. For Lucy. For us.
Lucy hid her face in my chest, laughing through her tears. My arms tightened around her.
The night rolled on with beer, burnt barbecue, and music from the old jukebox. The girls pulled Lucy into their circle. The brothers clapped me on the back, muttering some version of“’Bout damn time.”
Even Keno came over, cigarette dangling, scowl in place. He jerked his chin at Lucy, who was laughing with Maria and Finn by the fire.
“She’s good for you,” he said, flicking ash. “Brings your walls down.”
I didn’t dodge it. “She makes me want to be a man Caleb would’ve been proud of,” I told him.
Keno’s eyes flicked from Lucy back to me. He exhaled slow.
“Then don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t,” I said. “I can’t.”
He nodded once, then clapped my shoulder.
Later, when the fire burned low, Lucy curled against me on the porch couch, her head on my shoulder, my arm wrapped around her.
“Do you feel different?” she asked softly.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I feel like I finally stopped running.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Do you still want that house you were looking at?”
