Epilogue Definitely Not The End
Raine
Pants or shorts? Sandals or boots? What the hell do I wear to a surprise date with all three of them?
They just randomly showed up this morning with grins too wide and a breakfast burrito too fat. I never turn them away anymore. A year of this—of them—has taught me even if I shut the door, they’d break it down.
The past year has reminded me how having people in your corner feels again.
With Emil keeping his word on a flat rate payment, I don’t count every dollar and only fight for fun, or when the month has been slow at the garage.
The clients have slowly been pouring back in, mainly because Jax, Elias, and Theo have been sending them my way.
They don’t just send customers either. They show up to help when they’re off, too.
I’m no longer drowning, and it’s thanks to them.
Now I’m just staring at my closet like the biggest problem I have right now is figuring out what to wear.
“You ready yet, Sunshine?” Jax pokes his head into my room, eyes bright with the kind of trouble he thrives on.
“No,” I groan, tugging at my cargo pants. “Because the three of you won’t tell me where we’re going.”
“Aww.” He steps in like he owns the place. “Worried about looking good for us?”
“I always look good for you.”
He grins. “True. But now it’s intentional.”
I grab a shirt and throw it at him. He catches it easily, laughs, then starts digging through my closet like he’s been invited.
“If you dress me slutty just so you can stare at my ass all day—”
“Oh, I absolutely will stare at your ass,” he cuts in cheerfully. “But I’ll make it classy.”
Theo appears in the doorway, hands tucked into his jacket, gaze soft and careful. “Elias said if you’re uncomfortable, we can leave.”
I glance past him to the living room where Elias leans against the wall, solid and calm, watching me like he always does. “I’m not uncomfortable. Just suspicious.”
“That’s healthy,” Jax decides, holding up a black tee and jeans. “Put these on.”
I do, mostly because I’m tired of arguing and partly because trusting them doesn’t feel like a risk anymore.
Outside, it’s Elias’ truck waiting instead of bikes, which immediately sets my internal alarm bells ringing.
“Oh, we’re definitely doing something sketchy,” I mutter as I climb in.
“Not sketchy,” Jax says. “Meaningful.”
“That’s worse.”
Elias pulls out of the driveway with the same steady ease he does everything else with. The city slides past while I stare out trying to find any hint of where we’re headed.
The drive feels loaded. Not tense exactly, just… charged. Like they’re all holding something back.
Theo’s leg bounces once, then stops the moment he notices I’ve clocked it. Elias keeps his gaze so focused on the road, I’m not sure he’s blinking. And Jax keeps glancing at me like he’s waiting for a reaction I haven’t had yet.
“What’s going on?” I ask finally, because curiosity is a disease and I don’t have the vaccine.
Jax inhales like he’s about to start a speech, then catches Elias’ eyes in the mirror and shuts his mouth. That alone tells me this isn’t just a dumb surprise date.
Theo’s fingers curl against his knee, then relax. He looks at me, then looks away, and that nervous little tell makes my chest tighten.
“Okay.” I point at all three of them. “No. You’re not allowed to do that.”
“Do what?” Jax asks, innocent. Too innocent. It makes me want to commit a crime.
“Clam up on me. Whatever bad news you have to give me, you can just tell it to me straight. I can handle it.” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to.
Theo’s head snaps toward me, concern flaring. “Raine, no. It's not that.”
“Then what is it?” I mutter.
Jax clears his throat, suddenly serious as he turns to better face me in the backseat. “Okay. So. Here’s the thing.”
My stomach flips. “Jax—”
He holds up a finger. “Let me talk before you interrupt me with your suspicious face.”
“My face is always suspicious.”
“Exactly.” He nods like that proves something. “So. We’ve been… talking.”
I glance between them. “Oh my God. Is this about the garage? Because if you’re staging an intervention about my work hours, I’m going to—”
“It’s not about the garage,” Theo cuts in from the passenger seat, voice firmer than usual. “It’s about… us.”
That does something strange to my chest that I'm not sure I like. Elias' eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror, steady and grounding. Like he can see me spiraling.
“Breathe,” he reminds me, not as a command, but as something he’s offering.
I hate that it works.
My lungs loosen. My shoulders drop an inch. My pulse settles enough that I can think again.
Jax looks at me, and for once, there’s no joke in his eyes. “We want you forever.” The bluntness of his words knocks the air out of me.
I blink. Once. Twice. “Okay,” I manage, because my brain just tripped over itself.
A lump forms in my throat and I hate it. I’m not a lump-in-throat kind of girl. I’m a punch-you-in-the-face kind of girl. I’m a keep-moving kind of girl.
But a year of being loved by three men who refuse to let me rot in my own head has done dangerous things to my insides.
Jax shifts forward again, closer now. “If we could marry you, all of us, legally and clean and normal, we would,” he says, voice roughening at the edges. “But we can’t. Not the way we want.”
Theo swallows, then turns to meet my eyes. “So we just need to know… if you’d want that. If you had the option, would you marry the three of us?"
My throat goes tight enough that it hurts, thinking about them and our year together.
How Elias shows up at my garage without asking, fixing something I didn’t even know was broken. How Theo sits with me in silence when I can't sleep, just existing like that's enough. How Jax makes me laugh when everything in me wants to stay sharp and alone.
I think about the nights I didn’t cry because I had them. The mornings I didn’t panic because the payment was already planned. The way my life stopped feeling like a cliff edge.
A year ago, I would’ve run. I would’ve made a joke. I would’ve told them they were insane and pushed them away before they could leave me first.
Now, I just feel… full.
I turn, meeting Theo’s gaze first, then Jax’s, then Elias’ in the mirror.
“Yes,” I say, and it comes out steady even though my heart is trying to beat its way out of my ribs. “If I could marry you all, I would.”
Silence floods the cab for half a second, thick and stunned.
Then Jax lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like he’s choking on happiness. “Oh my God. She said yes. She said yes. Elias, she said—”
“I heard,” Elias cuts in, but his voice has shifted. Softer. Lower. Like he’s holding something precious and trying not to crush it.
Theo exhales, shaky, tightening his fingers on his knees as if unsure I was going to say yes. “Okay,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Okay.”
I swallow hard, then force a scoff, allergic to sincerity. “Don’t get weird about it.”
Jax turns his attention back to me, eyes bright. “Too late, babe. I’m already weird. This is my natural state.”
Theo gives a quiet laugh, then hesitates before adding, “You can tease us. You should tease us. We just… want you to know we’re serious.”
“I know,” I admit, and my voice cracks a little, which is rude. “I know you are.”
Elias’ hand tightens on the wheel a little more. “Good,” he murmurs, then flicks on his blinker.
I frown. “Where are we—”
The truck turns into a parking lot.
A tattoo shop sits ahead, neon OPEN sign glowing like a dare.
I stare at it, confusion crashing into me so hard I almost laugh. “What is this?”
Jax leans in again, grinning in full force, too pleased with himself. “Now we prove it.”
I stare at the tattoo shop. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” Jax beams. “Matching tattoos.”
Theo swallows hard, eyes flicking to the door. “I hate needles.”
I blink at him. “Why are you doing it if you’re terrified?”
He looks at me then, really looks, and his voice comes out quiet but unwavering. “Because it’s you.”
That hits me in the sternum like a damn punch.
I clear my throat quickly, because feelings are inconvenient. “Okay,” I mutter, climbing out. “If you pass out, I’m drawing a smiley face on your forehead.”
Jax cackles. “Please do.”
Theo shoots him a look. “Don’t encourage her.”
Elias shuts the truck door and rounds it, his hand finding the small of my back out of habit, guiding me toward the entrance. Jax practically bounces beside us, already in his element, like tattoo shops were designed specifically to feed his personality.
Inside, the air smells like disinfectant and ink and something metallic underneath it. Music hums in the background. A receptionist looks up, smiles.
Elias steps forward, name already on the appointment list like this has been planned for weeks. Which, knowing them, it probably has.
I glance around, trying to piece together what kind of matching tattoo we’re about to get. Something with bikes? Something cheesy? Something that will make me cry in public, which would be a hate crime.
Jax taps my arm, then holds up his left hand, ring finger extended. “Right here.” His eyes go bright, pulling me into the excitement with him. “We’re doing ring bands.”
My stomach drops in a way that feels like falling and flying at the same time. “You’re serious.”
Theo lifts his hand too, ring finger out, expression tight but determined. “Yeah.”
Elias shows his hand last, the gesture simple but weighted. “It’s our way of tying ourselves together,” he murmurs. “Forever. Even if the law can’t catch up to what we are.”
My throat burns. Again.
The artist comes over, friendly and confident, and gestures toward a station. “You guys ready?”
Jax immediately points at Theo. “He’s the least ready.”
Theo’s eyes widen. “Jax.”
Jax grins, unrepentant. “I’m just saying, if anyone’s going to faint, it’s our boy.”
“I’m not going to faint,” Theo insists, but his voice carries that careful tightness people get when they’re trying to convince themselves.
We sit down one by one to approve placement and size.
The design is a braided chain band with links woven over and under, the shading giving it depth so it looks almost raised off the skin. The artist explains how it’ll wrap around the finger, continuous, no obvious start or end, like a loop you can’t break without cutting the whole thing apart.
The braid itself is made of four distinct 'strands,' each one inked with a slightly different texture so the links feel individual when you look close.
One strand is smoother. One is a little darker.
Another is tightly woven. And the last one has a faint scuffed-metal look. Each one represents each of us.
Elias’ hand slides into mine while we wait our turn, his thumb pressing slow circles over my knuckle like he can feel my emotions trying to spill out. I squeeze back, grounding myself the way he always grounds me.
Theo sits rigid on the edge of the chair, watching the needle setup with the expression of a man preparing to walk into battle.
Jax keeps whispering commentary like a sportscaster.
“And now,” he murmurs dramatically, “Theo approaches the chair, trembling, but noble.”
Theo hisses, “Stop.”
Elias’ gaze shifts to Jax, a warning in it. Jax immediately holds up his hands like, okay, okay, I’ll behave, and then mouths at me, no, I won't.
Theo does better than we all expect, no fainting, no throwing up, no panic attack. When the artist wipes off his finger, he stares at it like he’d do it a hundred times over. And that means more than anything.
Then it’s my turn. The artist cleans my finger and places the stencil. I look down at the braid, the four strands woven into one ring, and it hits me again, hard.
I’m sitting in a tattoo chair about to let three men permanently ink a promise into my skin.
And I fucking love it.
Jax leans in, voice soft enough it barely counts as teasing. “Look at you being all committed and shit.”
I snort. “Oh, shut up.”
Jax just laughs, smirking wide as he leans back.
When it’s finished, the artist wipes my finger, then holds it up for me to see. It takes everything in me not to go full sap and tear up. I’ve clearly trained my body well enough, because my eyes stay dry despite my insides burning with overflowing love.
Elias and Jax get theirs next, and soon all four of us are staring at our ring fingers like we've never seen them before.
Theo swallows, eyes shining just slightly as he reaches for my hand. His thumb brushes the fresh ink carefully, like he’s afraid of hurting me. “It’s perfect,” he murmurs.
Jax slings an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in. “Okay,” he announces, loud enough that the artist laughs. “Now that we have tattoos, there's no escape, unless you're willing to cut your finger off.”
I elbow him lightly. “You act like I’d run.”
His grin turns softer. “I know you won’t,” he replies, and for once, he doesn’t make it a joke.
Elias opens the door for us on the way out, hand settling at my back again, guiding. Theo walks close, still sneaking glances at his finger like he can’t believe he did it. Jax keeps showing his off to literally no one.
Elias unlocks the truck, and before we climb in, Jax reaches for my hand again, lifting it so the fresh band catches the light.
“Forever.” His voice is quieter now, still Jax, still rough around the edges but real.
Theo nods once beside him. “Forever.”
Elias’ hand closes over mine, firm and warm. “Forever.”
I look at the three of them, my chest too full, my heart too loud.
“Okay,” I say, unable to be normal about anything. “If you all start writing poetry at me, I’m throwing up.”
Jax beams. “That’s basically a love note coming from you.”
I roll my eyes, but my fingers tighten around theirs anyway.
And for the first time in a long time, the future doesn't look so scary.