Emergence: Prequel (Queens Wraiths MC)

PROSPECT 1 – To be confirmed

“Tinman. What do you think?”

I raised my eyes from the list he’d given me; it was a well-thought-out list. Every one of the brothers on the list had dual nationality, none of them were in a serious relationship, all under the age of thirty except for one other and me. They weren’t set in their ways, and none of them had a hope of moving to an officer’s position if they stayed with the Mother Chapter. The only way they would ever advance was if a new chapter was set up. They were all good, solid brothers. I’d have been happy to have any of them at my back.

My only concern was Cobalt, or Bolt as he was known. He was twenty-three and hadn’t yet learned that not everything was about drinking, fucking, and riding—not always in that order.

“I see you have Bolt in a position as Road Captain. Do you think he’s ready for the responsibility?”

I wasn’t blind to the faults of my sons, and Bolt could do with growing up a little. Hard to believe that when I was his age, Maggie and I’d been married over a year, and Coal was already a month old. Responsibility made you grow up damn fast. In a way, I was glad that none of my kids had been in a hurry to start families, but the downside to that was they’d probably be my age before having their first. Whereas Maggie and I were planning on travelling as soon as Opal was an adult, which would be in a few short years.

“I thought of that, but I think the responsibility will be good for him. Here he doesn’t have to be accountable as long as he’s doing his job and not jacking off. He’s never not done anything asked of him. He stepped up last month when he was needed without being asked. I think this will be good for him,” Maestro replied, his face serious, so I knew he’d given it some thought. It wasn’t like he didn’t know my kids.

“It’s a good list,” I agreed, “but you’ll only know if it’s a good idea if you speak to them. I have no idea what my boys want. I’d never ask them to leave their brothers, and neither would their mother. Opal will be going with us, but the boys are all adults. We’re keeping the house here for when we come back to visit, or if you need it, the club can use it. Speak to them, ask them, and then we can plan. I’m assuming you have something in mind?”

Maestro shook his head, “Not really, but my dad and Chains made a few hesitant plans when Maggie first inherited. And recently, we’ve made good contacts in that area with the Crows and O’Sheas. I’ve also just had a visit from the Skulls, who assured me that it’s the right thing to do. There are reasons behind that, but I can’t go into it yet until I know Coal and the boys are in this for the long haul.

“We own some warehouses near the docks and have done for a few years. They are rented out, and they’ve made pretty good money over the last five years. It’s all sitting in an account in the UK just ready to be used. It will help with setting up a new chapter. I have a few ideas on what we can do, but I’ll wait and speak to Coal and see what he thinks.”

I started to laugh, “Fucker. I should have known. Chains was always planning something, and I was always along as backup in case something went wrong.” I was silent for a while as I thought about what I’d just said. Maybe if I’d been with him that night, he’d not have been gunned down. We’d never know now. “Fuck, I miss that bastard,” I muttered softly.

“Me too, brother,” Maestro says softly. “I think this will be good for everyone all round.”

Slapping my hands down on my thighs, I rubbed them up and down. When I was sure I’d be able to speak, I cleared my throat and looked up, “Right, best you get my boy in here and let’s ask him.”

Maestro grinned, picked up his phone and rang Coal without hesitation. As soon as Coal answered, he ordered, “Get your ass to my office pronto.”

Disconnecting the call, he threw his phone down on the desk, reached back to the fridge behind him and pulled out three beers. Opening them, he handed me one while he took a drink from one and the other was left on the desk for Coal. We shot the shit while we waited for Coal to arrive, and I can’t lie, it was good.

I hadn’t really caught up with Maestro since he’d taken over as President from Red. While I was closer to Chains, I’d always liked Maestro; his and Cash’s relationship was similar to mine and Chains. Maestro had always been a force to be reckoned with, and he made a solid President. Now that he had an Old Lady and kids, I could see he was even more settled.

We’d nearly finished our beers when there was a knock on the door and Coal shoved his head around at Maestro’s call to come in. “Hey, Pres, Pop,” he greeted as he threw himself into the chair next to me, sprawling out, dirty boots crossed at the ankles.

Grinning at him, I shook my head in amusement. For as long as he’d been around, my eldest had sprawled, he’d never sat. I took a good look at him; he must have been working in the garage because he still wore coveralls on the bottom but had pulled the sleeves off and tied them at the waist. He had on an old grey T-shirt. All my kids were good-looking, not sure where they got their looks from because I certainly wasn’t a picture painting, and my Maggie, while to me she was beautiful, had never been what society would call beautiful or even pretty. All our kids had inherited her pitch-black hair and bright green eyes. And with both of us being tall, our kids were never going to be short. All my sons were between six foot four and six foot six, with Coal being slap bang in the middle and the baby, Bolt, at six foot six. Even Opal was tall at five foot ten.

Taking a deep drink of the beer Maestro handed him, Coal let out an appreciative sigh as he finished off half of it, “Thanks, Pres, that’s good. It’s hot as balls out there. So, tell me what’s going on? I feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office. Whatever it is that’s happened, Bolt did it.”

Laughter rang out at his comment. I slapped the back of his head lightly for throwing his brother under the bus.

“It’s nothing like that,” Maestro assured him before explaining, “Your dad came in to let me know that your ma, him, and Opal are moving to the UK, and I wondered what your plans were.”

Side-eyeing me, Coal asked, “You’re really going then? It’s not just talk or you needing a break?”

I shook my head, “No, son, I need to leave. Too many memories here, and your mother needs to have a chance to live her dreams while we’re still young. What happened with Chains reminded us that life changes in an instant, and we need to live it.”

“Okay,” Coal agreed, “you need to do what is good for you, and if moving away is it, then we’ll miss you. But it’s not like we can’t visit, and I’m sure Mom will be calling constantly anyway. I’ll probably speak more to her now that you’re going to be in a different country rather than just down the road.”

“That’s why I’ve asked you to come in,” Maestro advised. “One, I wanted to know if you’re happy here and two, would you ever be interested in running your own chapter?”

Coal sat up straight, his face serious. “Are you fucking with me?” he asked, looking at Maestro. “Because man, if you are, that’s not cool. I mean, I know that I can be a pain in your ass, and we sometimes butt heads. But my own chapter? That’s not something you joke about.”

“First of all, Coal, I’m your goddamn President and above shitty games. I know you and I butt heads on the regular but fuck it, man, I thought you knew me better than that. Now answer the fucking questions,” Maestro snapped, slamming his hand down on his desk, standing up, and leaning over it, glaring at Coal.

Putting a hand on Coal’s shoulder, I held him back. ‘Maybe it was a good idea for these two to be in different chapters,’ I thought. They’d always been hard-headed and had butted up against each other more than once, even with the fifteen-year age gap between them. They were both stubborn, neither willing to back down. It’s one of the reasons they’d both make good presidents. Chains and Red had been the same.

Coal took a deep breath and settled back in his chair. “Apologies, Pres,” he muttered. “To answer your first question, am I happy? I’m not unhappy, but I’m also aware that I won’t go any further than just being a member unless I join another chapter, and honestly, I don’t want to.

“My family lives here, I grew up here. And yes, even when you piss me off, I know that you’re a good president and have all our best interests at heart. So, for now, I’m happy here.

“To your second question, would I ever want to be president of my own chapter? I can’t lie, I’ve thought of it often, but as I’ve said, that would mean leaving my family, and I’m not sure I could do that. I’m the eldest; I’ve always looked after my younger siblings, and I’m not sure I’d be able to not look out for them.

“I mean, I’m still pulling Bolt out of situations on a regular basis. So yes, while I’d love to be president of a club, I doubt it will ever happen because I can’t leave my blood brothers behind, and I know if you had to ask them, they’d say the same thing. Sorry to say, Pres, you are stuck with us Tins for the foreseeable future.”

Maestro nodded his acceptance of Coal’s apology, asking, “What would you say if I said there was a way for you to have it all, your brothers and your own chapter?”

Coal rubbed his hands over his face before he stood up and paced from one side of the office to the other. Finally stopping, arms folded over his chest, legs apart. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve really looked at my son, and I’m shocked to see the man standing in front of me. When the fuck did my boys grow up?

“Explain what you mean,” Coal demanded.

Maestro moved from around the desk to stand in front of me, mirroring Coal in stance, arms crossed, except he leaned against the desk, legs crossed, body relaxed. Me, I sit back and watch.

“So, here’s the thing. Your dad, mom, and sister are leaving to move to the UK, Southampton to be exact,” Maestro lifts a brow as if to say, you with me so far?

Coal nods and waves his hand in a continue gesture. “What do you know about Southampton?” Maestro asks.

“It’s a city on the coast of Hampshire. Mom has a property about twenty minutes outside of the centre.”

“Correct, lots of ships in and out, including cruise ships and barges that sail around the world to and from that port.”

I see as soon as Coal gets it. “You want to open a chapter in Southampton.”

Maestro grinned, “Ding, ding, give the man a prize. I want to open a chapter in Southampton, and I want you to run it.”

Coal let out a breath, “Fuck,” he whispered, bending over, hand on his hips, another whispered, “Fuck.” I think it’s only then that both Maestro and I realise how much he’s wanted this but thought he’d never get the chance.

Maestro goes back around his desk and pulls out a bottle of whisky, along with the same glasses that Red always kept in his drawer. Pouring out three shots, he handed me one before taking one to Coal. Holding it to under his nose while he’s still bent over double.

“Cheers, brother,” Maestro said, slapping Coal on the shoulder as he stood up and clicked his glass against Maestro’s, and they shot down a drink.

“Thank you, Maestro, I won’t let you down,” Coal assured his president.

Maestro grinned at him, “I know you won’t because I’d hate to have to come and kick your ass.”

Huffing out a laugh, Coal sat back down next to me, and Maestro sat back in his chair, grinning madly at us.

“It’s going to be a good year,” he crowed, clapping his hands before getting serious.

“Right, this is the list I quickly drew up of the brothers that I think will be a good fit. Of course, we’ll take it to church and ask if anyone else wants to move, but for now, let’s bring these ones in and have a chat with them to see if they’re open to it. There is a reason for opening this chapter, and it does have to do with the port but probably not for the reasons you think. I can’t get into it until I know everyone is on board. While we won’t be a one-percenter MC, we aren’t going to be strictly legit either.”

Coal and I share a look but don’t say anything. The Ivor family has never set the Tins on the wrong path yet.

Maestro handed Coal the list and he looked at it. The two of them started talking and making plans. Coal pulled a chair closer to the desk, grabbed a pen and pad, and started making notes. I smiled with pride as I watched them, knowing that somewhere out there, Chains is watching this and laughing his head off.

He’d never understood that I didn’t want to be the president of a chapter. But as I once told him, I was happiest watching my family grow and not having the responsibility of being in charge. Did I earn less money? Yes, I did, but I was happier not having the stress. It’s not that I couldn’t have been a president; I’d have been a good one because failure wasn’t an option. I just didn’t have the need or the drive for it that Chains and Red had, the same drive I saw in Maestro and Coal. No, I was better in the background, helping and supporting.

Quietly, I got up from the chair and slipped out of the office, leaving them to their planning. They’d let us know when it was time to make a move. For now, I was in a hurry to get home to Maggie and let her know that it was likely all her chicks would be coming with us to the UK.

Climbing on my sled, I rode off down the road towards the gate and waited for the prospect to open it, driving through and out onto the road. Maggie and I had bought a fixer-upper when we’d first got married with what little money we had; over the years, we’d done it up and added on when we needed to as our brood grew. Maggie hadn’t cared about the size of the house except for the kitchen. She’d been more worried about the size of the garden and if she could grow vegetables in it. Our yard was abundant in all sorts of plants and foliage. We were never without fresh vegetables, and any excess she’d often send to the club or to the local soup kitchen.

The house was lit up from the inside, and I knew where I’d find Maggie: in her favourite room in the house and where we always seemed to end up.

Our kitchen really was the heart of our home. It had seen everything from scraped knees, blood from the boys fighting, to heartbreak and tears. The kitchen table had been where we’d sorted our differences. It was where the kids knew to come when they’d had a bad day or when one of their hearts had been broken. When we’d had to discuss behaviour and consequences, or when your youngest son came home and told you his high school girlfriend was pregnant, that’s where we made plans to help them out; it’s also where we sat and cried when that baby was lost. That table could tell you all sorts of stories if it could talk.

Parking my sled in the garage, I got off and secured the doors before walking into the house and taking my boots off in the mudroom, because if there was one thing Maggie did not allow in her house, it was dirty boots.

Inhaling the scents emanating from the kitchen, I knew tonight must be a stew and dumpling night. It was one of my favourites, and Maggie had been babying me ever since Chains had passed on. I appreciated it even if my nearly fifty-year-old waist was suffering. Ah, well, I’d worry about that tomorrow.

In socked feet, I walked towards the door that would take me to the kitchen and stopped, leaning against the doorframe. Crossing my arms over my chest, I got comfortable to watch the show being put on in front of me.

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched Maggie, oblivious to being watched, or at least so I thought, as she danced around the kitchen, stirring something in the pot on the stove, hips swaying to an old Def Leppard song. Her long, still pitch-black hair swinging in loose curls down her back to just above her hips; it swayed gently as she danced. She hadn’t changed much in the years since I’d met her. She was still my Maggie. To me, she was just as beautiful as she’d been the night I’d met her.

I’d taken a ribbing from a lot of my so-called friends back in the day because Maggie didn’t meet the then societal norms of being painfully thin or perky pretty. They didn’t get it then, and some still didn’t get it now, but to me, Maggie was perfect and fit me just right.

My Maggie was a tall woman, at just over five foot ten in her socked feet, with wide shoulders and hips. Most thought she was fat, but she wasn’t, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her. What she was, was well-built and strong, not just in her body but in her heart. Her heart was one of the things I loved most about her, it was the soul of her, and it knew no bounds when it came to loving those of us that she’d chosen to share her light with. She welcomed all into our house, it didn’t matter who you were or where you came from. And she did all this with love, warmth, and grace.

Every now and then, her eyes would flash with ire, but mostly her eyes held kindness. After her heart, her eyes were my favourite, they were the brightest green, framed by thick dark lashes the same colour as her hair, with high cheekbones and a mouth that was just a tad too big, with soft, lush lips. Her skin was milk-white, and she was zealous about applying sunblock. You’d very rarely find Maggie wearing make-up or dresses, being far more comfortable in jeans or slacks. But when she did dress up, she was a knockout, and more than a few times, I’d watched brothers do a double take when she’d walked in on my arm on special occasions. To me, she’d only got more attractive as we’d got older, and at the age of forty-eight, after five children, she still did it for me.

I remember the night we met clear as day. Chains and I’d not long been patched in; we’d ridden into town to blow off some steam and for a change from partying at the clubhouse. We’d been laughing, joking, and shoving at each other when we’d walked into the bar that we’d frequented. Nobody ever bothered to card us when we were wearing our cuts, not at this bar, as it was owned by the club. There’d been five of us, and I’d been at the back of the crowd when I’d looked up and seen her, not that I was the only one to take note of the table she was at.

She’d been there with four girlfriends, all of them dressed to the nines except for her. That was the first thing I’d noticed — she wasn’t trying to attract attention, not like the other girls at her table. She’d been dressed in a royal blue halter top that tied behind her neck, showcasing her broad shoulders, her long legs had been encased in well-worn jeans and long brown boots with a slight heel. Her long black hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail. It wasn’t long before we’d managed to get ourselves invited to sit at their table, and I’d made sure I was sitting next to her.

Leaning over, I’d introduced myself; I held out my hand to her, “Hi, I’m Tinman.” She’d smiled at me, white teeth flashing at me from parted lips. It was then that I caught her accent and realised she wasn’t American. “Maggie, and that’s an interesting name.”

I grinned at her before leaning over to explain, “It’s a road name,” I tapped my finger to my cut where my name was stitched.

“Why Tinman?” she’d asked curiously.

“My government name is David Tin, but when I was prospecting, I messed up a few times, and the Pres would shout out ‘for fuck’s sake Tin man’. It kind of stuck and became Tinman.”

She smiled at my explanation; her attention was pulled away by something one of the other girls said. Once she answered her, she sat back and listened, quiet and letting the other girls talk. During the course of the evening, I found out that she was a lot younger than them. It had been my turn to buy a round and when I’d asked her what she wanted to drink, she’d asked for a Coke. I’d told her that she could have anything she wanted, but she shook her head and whispered in my ear that she was underage to drink in the US. With a nod, I bought everyone a round and happily delivered her a Coke.

The rest of the party got more and more sloshed as the night went on, the drinks flowing, and pretty soon, they paired up with each other and gone to the dance floor, leaving Maggie and me at the table.

We sat quietly for a little while when Maggie turned to me and said, “You don’t have to sit with me. I’m sure there’s someone here who’s taken your fancy.”

I frowned at her to see if she was messing with me, but no, her eyes were serious as they watched me. Then a thought hit me that maybe she didn’t want me sitting here and maybe there was someone’s eye she was trying to catch. “I’m good here, babe,” I hesitated before continuing, watching her eyes as I asked, “unless you want me to leave. Is there someone you’d rather be sitting with?”

Her eyes widened, and a pretty pink blush spread across her cheeks, “No, I’m not interested in anyone. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to sit with the not-so-pretty one because you feel sorry for me.”

Her words just served to piss me off and I let it be known when I growled, “I’m not sure what you mean by that comment, but I don’t like what you’re implying about yourself or me, for that matter."

Her face had crumpled a little at my words, and she put her hand on my arm, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to keep me company. That’s all.”

I snorted at her words knowing full well that she had been putting herself down. “Babe, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. You’re right; I don’t think you’re pretty or glamorous or whatever those girls were trying to be tonight,” I informed her.

My gut tightened as her lips pressed into a firm line, but I saw the tears as she looked away towards the dance floor. Taking her chin in my hand, I turned her face back to mine, saying softly, “You didn’t let me finish. You are none of those things, and you don’t need to be. Being pretty is fleeting. What you are is much better.” I paused, waiting as my words sunk in. She continued to watch me with big eyes and slightly parted lips that I was dying to take a taste of. Rubbing my thumb against her bottom lip, I told her, “Baby, you are so much better because what you are is beautiful, and beautiful trumps pretty any day.”

The smile that she’d beamed at me had lit me up from the inside out. We’d spent the rest of the evening talking quietly in the corner; I’d pulled her chair closer to mine so that she was tucked under my shoulder. She’d explained to me that she was here from the UK for a course learning some new farming techniques.

I loved talking to her. She had a fantastic sense of humour, was interesting, and there was nothing fake about her. When the rest had left, heading to bed with whichever girl they’d paired off with, I’d waved them off. We didn’t leave until the bar closed. I’d taken her home on the back of my sled, knowing that there wouldn’t ever be another on there. I’d dropped her off that night but not before arranging to pick her up for breakfast the next day.

Maggie never did move back to the UK, much to her family’s horror. Three months after we met, to the disbelief of everyone, including the brothers in the club, we moved into a one-bedroom apartment together, and she became my Old Lady. We got married when Maggie turned nineteen and I was twenty-one. We had Coal when she was twenty and I was twenty-two.

She’d named all our boys with road names from birth because, as she explained, if they weren’t going to use their birth names after they joined the club, they may as well have road names from the start; that way they didn’t break her heart. And if she was married to a Tinman, then it seemed only fair that her children have names to match our surname. She’d loved the name Coal, and he was our first; after Coal, we’d in short order had Copper, Nickel, and Cobalt.

After four boys, we’d thought we were done, and our family was complete. Then just after Maggie’s thirty-second birthday, she’d found out she was pregnant again. Our last baby had been our surprise baby, and by surprise, I mean she really had been, considering I’d had a vasectomy.

When Maggie turned up pregnant, I’d asked to be checked, and it seemed like the vasectomy had failed. I’d not been thrilled that I’d have to go back in again to have it sorted. As Maggie was already pregnant, I’d put it off until she’d had Opal; that way, we could recuperate together, I’d told her.

Maggie had shaken her head at me and just laughed.

When she’d had Opal, she’d decided to go with semi-precious stones because Diamond and Ruby had been overdone. I’d laughed my ass off at her logic but had left her to it. Our kids had great names, as far as I was concerned.

And that was how it was for us. Easy, no major drama, just love and loyalty. We were best friends long before we were lovers. We had no secrets between us, except if it was club business. But even there, Maggie just got it. She fit in wherever she was and was liked by everyone. Even the club bunnies had liked her.

Probably because Maggie never made them feel less, added to the fact that I’d made it clear from the start that I wasn’t interested in them once Maggie was mine. If a new one tried to start shit, more often than not, the other bunnies put her in her place. That’s just the type of loyalty Maggie instilled in everyone.

I was pulled from my memories when the object of my love looked at me over her shoulder with a wide smile, “Are you just going to stare at my arse all night, or are you coming to give your wife a kiss?”

Moving away from the frame that I’d been leaning against, I sauntered up to my wife and pulled her into my arms, pressing my lips to hers until she opened for me, her tongue twining with mine with ease and familiarity, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of my neck and pulling gently, just as I liked it. Leaving her lips, I pressed kisses down her neck until I got to the part I loved just between her shoulder and her neck, nipping at it gently before laving my tongue against it to take away the sting.

Burying my face in her neck, I pulled her closer, my hands digging into her hips as I breathed her in. Maggie didn’t say anything, just stood while I took what I needed from her. With one last kiss to her neck, I straightened up, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Hi, baby, just so you know, I love your ass, and I’ll stare at it whenever I want to,” I smirked at her, tapping her gently on the butt.

Snorting a laugh at me, she turned back to the stove, picked up a spoon, and started dropping the dumplings in. Pressing up close to her and wrapping my arms around her, I watched her work over her shoulder.

“That looks good, babe. How long until it’s ready?”

“About thirty minutes,” Maggie replied.

“Do you need to watch it, or can you leave it?”

“I can leave it,” Maggie answered, turning the heat down and turning in my arms before asking, “Why? Is everything okay?”

I nodded, pressing my forehead to hers, replying, “Everything is good. I just wondered if you’d like to come and shower with me.”

She grinned wide at my words; not saying a word, she grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind her. I guess she wanted to shower with me.

Maggie started stripping as soon as she hit the bedroom door. By the time she was by the bathroom, there was a trail of clothes littering the floor. Stopping at the bathroom door, she held onto the frame, looking at me over her shoulder, “Hurry, Old Man, before I start without you.”

It didn’t take long for my clothes to join hers on the floor. Walking into the shower, I took my wet wife in my arms, my mouth taking hers in a hard kiss. It had been too long since we’d done this.

Nobody explained that grief did strange things to you and that normal everyday rituals, like waking up with a hard cock ready to go and slipping between the warm, firm thighs of your wife and into the familiar welcoming warm heat, could disappear with a blink of an eye.

I was happy to find that the feeling of desire and want had come back with a vengeance. I was rock hard and ready. When I slipped my hand between us, I found Maggie wet and waiting for me. Pushing her up against the shower wall, my hand hooked behind her knee, lifting her leg. She wrapped it around my hips, sighing a deep, happy sigh as I thrust up into her.

“God, baby, it feels so good to have you filling me up again,” she whispered against my lips, water from the shower spray clinging to her inky black lashes, eyes heavy with desire.

It didn’t take long for us to get each other there, the advantage of being together for as long as we’d been that we knew all the right places and the type of touch that got us there quickly—too quickly, in this case.

“Fuck,” I breathed heavily, my head resting against Maggie’s chest, listening to her rapid heartbeat as it fluttered in her chest. Her long legs still wrapped around my waist and my cock already softening inside her. “Too quick,” I muttered.

Maggie laughed at my words, pushing me completely out of her. I hissed as I slipped out of her body, not ready to lose her wet heat yet.

Unwrapping her legs from around me, Maggie stood, arms loose around my shoulders, smiling at me, “It may have been quick, baby, but it was still the best I’ve ever had.”

Knowing that I was the only one she’d ever had, I started to laugh, Maggie joining in until we were both breathless from laughing so hard, leaning back against the wall of the shower, catching our breath. The water was quickly cooling. The tension I’d been carrying around for the last few months had completely disappeared.

Turning my head to look at my beautiful wife, who was still chuckling on and off, I couldn’t have held back the words even if you’d paid me, “I love you, Maggie.”

She smiled a blinding smile at my words, her eyes warm when she looked at me, cupping my cheek in her hand, her words soft, wrapping themselves around my heart the same as they always did whenever she uttered them, “I love you too, David, forever and always. Through everything that this life throws at us.”

We’d probably have stayed there forever if there hadn’t been a knock on the door and Opal shouting that the dumplings were done.

Not taking my eyes from Maggie’s, I cleared the lump from my throat before shouting back that we’d be there in ten minutes.

Giving me one last hug and kiss, Maggie hurriedly showered in the now cold water before hopping out and towelling off. I followed not two minutes later. Getting dressed in comfortable clothes, together we walked hand in hand down the hall to the kitchen, where we found all five of our children in the kitchen waiting for us with knowing grins on their faces.

Glaring at the boys, knowing if they said anything, I’d not be happy. The only one struggling to hold it in was Bolt. We could see that staying quiet was killing him.

“Boy,” I growled at him.

“I didn’t say anything,” he moaned pitifully.

Maggie slapped him gently on the back of the head. “No, but you thought it.”

“Ow, Ma, you can’t punish me for thinking,” Bolt whined, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.

“Boy, you know that look never works on me,” she grinned at him, pushing his face away, then pulling it towards her so she could kiss his forehead.

Maggie went around the table, kissing all the boys before ending up by the stove to help Opal.

“Thanks, baby girl,” she said, wrapping an arm around our youngest and laying her head gently against her. It was like looking at a carbon copy of Maggie thirty years ago. I was just thankful that the world had come a long way since then and Opal didn’t suffer from the same self-doubt about her looks that Maggie had.

“You’re welcome, Momma,” Opal said, picking up the pot and placing it in the middle of the table.

Standing, I pulled out Maggie’s chair for her, bowls already laid out for her to dish up. In the seamless and unhurried way she had, Maggie dished up and handed bowls out to be passed around the table, all the time keeping up with the running commentary that ran around the table—from the gentle teasing that the boys gave Opal to the usual shit-talking that so often happened between the boys when they were sat at our table.

It was like the years fell away when we were all together, and they fell into the roles they’d grown up with. Our table had always been like this—a little wild, not always the best manners, but in it all, there was always love and understanding.

We’d lived a hard life when we’d been a one-percenter club, and we sometimes did things that weren’t good and definitely not on the right side of the law. We didn’t believe in senseless violence, but we did what was needed to protect the club and our families. While that had changed in the last year or so since Red and Maestro moved us out of doing illegal shit, the core values of our club still held true.

This house was the one place that all our kids had known they could come to when they needed to vent, and there’d be no judgement. Maggie had made sure they’d all known that from the day they prospected, that we were here for it all—the good and the bad.

I hoped that as they grew and eventually had families of their own, they would be able to offer the same to their families.

Supper was long finished, but we were still sitting at the table talking, coffee cups and cake littered over the top.

Looking up, I caught Coal’s eye from where he sat at the bottom of the table.

With a nod, he broke into the chatter, “I have news,” he stated in a serious tone.

The table immediately silenced, and all attention switched to him. I took Maggie’s hand where it rested on the table between us, twining our fingers together as we waited for Coal to speak.