Chapter Thirty-Four #2
“How did you know?” Her voice is so soft I almost don’t hear her over the celebration. “With Nitro, I mean. How did you know he was the one? That it was worth risking everything for?”
I look at her, really look at her, and see the question beneath the question. The longing in her eyes as she glances across the room to where Will is laughing with Koa and Bear. The way her entire face lights up when he’s near, then dims when he maintains that careful distance.
“When I couldn’t imagine my life without him,” I answer honestly. “When the thought of going back to how things were before him, of not having him in my life, felt worse than any risk I might have to take to keep him.”
Millie nods slowly, absorbing this. “But what if… what if the risk isn’t just yours to take? What if someone else could get hurt by you taking that chance?”
“Will,” I say gently, and she doesn’t deny it.
“His patch comes first,” she says, repeating the words like a mantra she’s told herself a thousand times.
“The club is his family. My dad’s business relationship with Defiance matters, and I won’t mess that up for him.
I care about him too deeply to be the reason he loses everything he’s worked for. ”
“Have you asked him what he wants?”
“I don’t need to. He’s made it clear. Every time we get close, every time there’s a moment, he pulls back. He’s chosen the club over… over whatever this could be.”
My heart aches for her. “Millie, sometimes people push away what they want most because they think they’re protecting something or someone. But what if you’re both miserable trying to protect each other from something that might not even be a real threat?”
“But w-what if it is?” Her voice cracks slightly. “What if I tell him how I feel, and it ruins everything? The friendship, his relationship with the club, my dad’s business? I couldn’t live with myself if I cost Will his future.”
I place my hand on her arm. “Love always has risks, sweetie. Always. But the regret of never knowing, of never trying? That might be worse than any risk you could take.”
She looks across the room again, and this time, Will is looking back. Their eyes meet, hold, and the longing between them is so palpable I can almost touch it. Then he looks away first, his jaw clenched, and turns back to his conversation with the brothers.
“Maybe someday,” Millie whispers. “When he has his patch, when things are more stable. Maybe then…”
“Maybe then,” I agree gently, even though I want to shake them both and tell them life is too short for maybes.
But I remember being where they are. Remember the fear and uncertainty before Nitro, and I finally admitted what we felt. Sometimes people need to find their own timing.
“Thanks,” Millie says, squeezing my hand. “For understanding. And for not judging.”
“Never. You and Will, whatever happens or doesn’t happen, I’m here for both of you.”
She gives me a watery smile, then excuses herself to take more plates to the kitchen. As she walks away, Will’s eyes track her movement as if he can’t help himself. As if she’s a magnet and he’s helpless to resist the pull.
Victoria appears at my elbow. “They’re going to drive everyone crazy, aren’t they?”
“Absolutely,” I agree. “It’s painful to watch.”
“Sin thinks Will’s waiting until he gets his patch. Once he’s a full member, he won’t feel like he’s risking as much by pursuing her.”
“That’s still weeks away.”
“I know. But Will’s patient. And Millie’s worth waiting for.” Victoria rubs her belly absently. “We’ve all had our journeys, our obstacles. Maybe theirs is to learn when to fight for what they want.”
I watch Nitro across the room, deep in conversation with Sin and Ghost, his face animated and alive. We fought for this. Through lies and secrets and almost losing everything, we fought.
And it was worth every battle.
Maybe Will and Millie will find their moment.
Their reason to fight.
And I hope they do.
Nitro finds me in the chaos, pulling me against his side. “Happy?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“So happy,” I confirm. “This is perfect.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He looks around at his brothers, at the family we’ve built, his face lighting up in pure bliss.
Later, after the celebration winds down and most people have headed to their rooms, we drive back to our house with Queenie in the back seat, chattering happily about the baby shower she’s already planning.
“I’ll knit blankets,” she declares. “And maybe a little sweater. Do babies wear sweaters?”
“Yes, Queenie, babies wear sweaters,” I say, laughing.
“Good. I’ll make several. In different colors. Blue, obviously, but also yellow and green…”
Nitro catches my eye in the rearview mirror, his smile warm.
This is our life now.
Planning baby showers, knitting blankets, and being part of something bigger than ourselves.
When we arrive home, Queenie announces she’s exhausted and heads straight to her suite. Nitro and I find ourselves alone in the living room, the house quiet around us.
“Want to hear something?” he asks suddenly.
“Always.”
He disappears into his office and returns with his flute case.
I settle onto the couch, watching as he assembles the instrument with practiced ease.
Even after nine months, I never get tired of watching him do this.
The way his large, tattooed hands handle the delicate instrument with such care.
The way his entire demeanor shifts into a peaceful, centered state.
“What are you playing?”
“Something I’ve been working on. For you.”
My breath catches as he brings the flute to his lips. The first notes float through the room, soft, haunting, and beautiful. It’s a melody I’ve never heard before, something he’s composed himself. It starts gently, almost tentative, then builds into something powerful and emotional.
I hear our story in every note. The tentative beginning when we were strangers in an Uber.
The growing connection as we fake-dated.
The passion when we finally admitted our feelings.
The devastating crisis that nearly tore us apart.
And finally, the joy of finding our way back to each other, stronger and more certain than before.
When the final note fades, I realize I’m crying.
Nitro sets down the flute and crosses to me, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t cry, Small Town.”
“They’re happy tears,” I promise, my voice thick with emotion. “That was beautiful. You wrote that for me?”
“For us,” he corrects. “For everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve overcome. For the life we’re building together.”
Queenie reappears in the doorway, drawn by the music. “That was lovely, dear boy.”
“Thanks, Queenie.”
“Play us something else,” she suggests, settling into her favorite armchair. “Something we can all enjoy.”
So he does. He plays a Mozart piece that has Queenie humming along, then something jazzy that makes me laugh, then a rock song he’s adapted for flute that shouldn’t work but absolutely does.
I watch him play, this incredible man made of beautiful contradictions. A biker VP and a billionaire CEO. A classical musician and a motorcycle rider. A devoted grandson. A man who protects what he loves with his whole heart.
Driving Uber was never about money. It was his way of touching the real world, of pretending normal was something he needed to chase.
But I think he knows now. There is no normal. There’s only truth.
His truth is layered, complicated, and perfectly his.
And I love every single part of him.
When he finally sets down the flute again, he extends his hand to me. “Dance with me.”
“There’s no music.”
“Don’t need music. Just need you.”
I take his hand, and he pulls me up, spinning me into his arms. We sway together in the living room, no rhythm except the beating of our hearts. Queenie watches from her chair, her expression soft with love.
“I love you, baby,” Nitro murmurs into my hair. “Every curve, every quirk, every brilliant, beautiful part of you. You changed my life.”
“You changed mine too. Made it better in every way.”
“The age gap, the secrets, the lies, all of it was worth it to get here, wasn’t it?”
“Every second,” I agree. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
We keep dancing, turning slow circles in our living room while Queenie smiles. This moment, right here, is everything. Not perfect, because perfect doesn’t exist. But real. Honest. Full of love and promise and hope for the future.
Nine months ago, I was devastated.
Heartbroken, homeless, lost.
Now, I’m found.
Found by a man who was just as broken, just as lost, who picked me up in an Uber on the worst night of my life and showed me what real love looks like.
Found a family I choose and who choose me back.
Found myself stronger and braver than I ever knew possible.
A love that’s complicated, messy, and absolutely worth fighting for.
A love that is mine.
A love that is fearless.
Nitro tilts my chin up, his dark eyes intense. “Forever, Marley. That’s what I want with you. Forever.”
“Forever,” I agree, reaching up to kiss him. “Starting right now.”
He kisses me back, full of promise.
Behind us, Queenie chuckles. “You two are disgustingly adorable. I’m going to bed before this gets inappropriate.”
“Night, Queenie,” Nitro calls without looking away from me.
“Goodnight, my darlings. I love you both.”
“Love you, too, Queenie,” we say in unison.
She shuffles off to her suite, still smiling, and we’re alone again. Nitro and I, swaying together in the dim light of our living room, in the house we bought together, building the life we fought for.
This is what happiness looks like.
Not the absence of problems or pain, but the presence of love strong enough to weather anything.
Not perfection, but partnership.
Not easy, but worth it.
Every single day, it’s worth it.
“Take me to bed, City Boy,” I murmur against his lips.
“Anything for you, Small Town.”
He sweeps me up into his arms, making me laugh, and carries me toward the stairs. Tomorrow, there will be work, meetings, club business, and all the complications that come with our lives.
But tonight, there’s just us.
Just this love that started in the back of an Uber and grew into something neither of us expected.
Something neither of us will ever let go.
As he carries me upstairs, I catch one last glimpse of the living room, the flute resting on its stand, Queenie’s crossword puzzle on the coffee table, the family pictures lining the walls—our life, messy, beautiful, and perfectly ours.
We are love.
We are forever.
We are fearless.
We are Defiance.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.