Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bones
“His name is Damián Cortez,” I say as the basement door creaks open, the footsteps behind me heavy with the arrival of the others. I don’t bother turning…just keep cleaning the blood from my hands.
“You sure?” Spike asks, voice low and deadly calm.
I finally turn, a grin spreading across my face. One that feels more like a snarl.
“Without a single fucking doubt.”
“Is he still alive?” Tank growls, his rage barely contained.
When we need answers, I’m the first one to step in. Once I’ve carved out what we need, the others get their turn. Tank’s usually last because he never holds back. But after everything, I think he’s earned the right to finish this. Hell, I think he needs it.
He may not have claimed Abby yet, but we all know where his heart lies.
“He’s all yours, brother,” I say, jerking my chin toward the door. “Skip is in there demonstrating how to use a bone saw, but he knows to keep him alive. There’s also a shot of adrenaline prepped and ready.”
Without a word, Tank strides into the room to finish what I started.
“Damián Cortez, huh?” Spike mutters. “I’ll have Foster dig into him. Learn everything there is to know.”
“Already ahead of you,” I say. “But from what I gathered, Max was right. Cortez deals in skin and he wants to run his operation from our desert.”
“That’s not fucking happening,” Maverick growls from the top of the steps. “I’ll have my people dig into him.”
“You have people?” Skip asks as he walks into the room covered in blood. Stepping aside, I let him have the sink. “I thought we were your people.”
“There are many things I have,” Maverick replies, smiling like the damn mystery he is. “How did you get blood on your ass?”
“Talent, my mysterious friend.”
I shift gears. “Sunny and I are getting married,” I say. “As soon as she’s healed.”
“Fuck yeah,” Skip cheers.
“Congrats, brother,” Spike adds.
“Cough it up,” Knuckles says, holding out a hand to Crusher. The big man scowls and slaps a twenty into it.
“You couldn’t wait one more month?” Crusher mutters.
“I’d marry her today if I could,” I admit. “But I’m not ready to let her outside the compound just yet.”
“I can marry you,” Maverick offers casually.
“Sorry, brother,” Skip grins, drying his hands and face. “He’s taken.”
“Fucker,” Maverick laughs. “No, really. I got ordained three years ago to officiate my sister’s wedding. We could have it here, inside the compound. That way, Sunny doesn’t have to go anywhere.”
I blink. “You can actually do that?”
Maverick nods. “Absolutely. We’ll invite her family, her friends…make it special. We can even go to her right now and do it.”
“As much as I’d love that,” I say, shaking my head, “I’ll wait until she can move without pain. She deserves the wedding she’s always wanted.”
“She’ll get it,” Spike says with a smile. “Riley and Abby will want to help her plan it, no doubt.”
“Club-wide celebration,” Knuckles adds. “Bring some light back into this place.”
And not for the first time since meeting her, I let myself imagine what forever looks like…with Sunny by my side.
***Sunny***
I’m getting married today.
Even just thinking it feels unreal…like a dream I was too scared to imagine until it was standing right in front of me. Until he was.
“Are you sure you’re okay with wearing my wedding dress?” Mama asks… again.
I glance at her in the mirror, her fingers fidgeting with the delicate lace at her neckline, nerves spilling out in the form of motherly concern.
“It’s perfect, Mama,” I say, my voice thick as I fight the wave of emotions rising fast in my chest. “ You wore this dress when you married Daddy. There’s no dress in the world I’d rather wear.”
And it’s true. The gown is simple but elegant, vintage in the best way with soft, fluttering lace sleeves that kiss my shoulders and a sweetheart neckline that makes me feel both beautiful and strong.
The bodice hugs me just enough, while the flowing skirt falls in layers like whispers of silk down to the floor.
Abby helped add a few modern touches…a satin ribbon at the waist, and a barely-there gold thread woven into the hem that glints when I move.
A hint of something new inside something treasured.
Riley steps up beside me, adjusting my veil with the same care she uses to tuck her son in at night. Her smile is quiet, but her eyes are full of pride.
“He’s going to lose his mind,” she says, smoothing down the fabric once more. “You look like the kind of woman men fight wars for.”
I let out a watery laugh. “You think he’ll cry?”
“Oh, he’ll cry ,” Abby says from her seat near the window, where she’s twisting her hair up with a silver clip. “But only after he glares at everyone in the room for staring too long.”
That makes us all laugh…because it’s true. Bones is going to go full Enforcer mode if anyone so much as blinks at me the wrong way today.
Mama reaches over and squeezes my hand. Her eyes are already glassy. “I knew the second I met him… that man would never let you go. He’s scary, sure. But he looks at you like you’re made of starlight.”
I nod, unable to speak for a second.
Because she’s right.
Because I feel it.
Because today, despite everything we’ve been through…every scar, every shadow…I get to marry the man who sees me. All of me.
And somehow still thinks I’m worth forever.
“They’re ready for you,” Aunt Molly says from the door.
We’re inside Jack’s…our…house and the ceremony is outside in the courtyard.
“Okay,” I smile at the beautiful ladies in my life. “Time to get married.”
***
The soft chords of a guitar float through the air as the club…my family…rises to their feet. I grip Mama’s arm a little tighter, my other hand clutching the simple bouquet Riley made from desert wildflowers and a few roses Abby snuck in from her own yard.
“It’s okay, honey,” Mama whispers, her voice watery. “I’ve got you.”
My feet move without my permission, step by careful step, down the aisle made from worn rugs and scattered petals. The compound has never looked more beautiful. Rough edges softened by the presence of candles, draped lights, and the presence of people who love us.
And him.
Jack.
He’s standing tall at the front beneath a wooden arch draped in fabric and wild greenery, in his all-black suit and neatly fixed beard…though the scars still give him that dangerous edge. His eyes never leave mine. His mouth twitches but doesn’t quite smile.
“Who gives this woman away?” Maverick asks, voice solemn but warm.
“I do,” Mama answers, her voice catching. “Her very proud mama.”
She places my hand into Jack’s, her touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. As soon as his fingers wrap around mine, something in me settles. I haven’t felt this steady since waking up in that cold, dark cell.
Jack leans in, his voice low and gravel-rough.
“You look like a dream, baby.”
I can’t speak, so I simply smile.
Maverick starts the ceremony with a traditional opening. Talking about the power of love, the strength of family, and how commitment is forged not just in good days, but in blood, sweat, tears, and battle scars.
Then it’s Jack’s turn.
He takes a slow breath, then pulls a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket and tucks it right back in, unread.
“I had vows written,” he mutters. “Perfect ones. Real poetic shit. But then I saw you walking toward me, everything flew out of my head.”
I can’t help the teary laugh that slips past my lips.
“I ain’t a good man,” he says. “But I’m yours.
Always. No matter what. You ever cry, I’ll be the one tearing down the sky to fix it.
Someone hurts you, I’ll bury them so deep their bones will never be found.
And if I ever hurt you, Sunny… really hurt you…
I’ll put the knife in your hand and help you twist it. ”
Several of the club members chuckle, but I can feel the sincerity pouring from him like fire.
“I’ll protect you, worship you, love you ‘til there’s no breath left in my body.”
He’s shaking, just slightly.
“I ain’t perfect,” he finishes. “But I’ll be better . For you. Only you.”
Maverick gently cues me, and I try not to cry as I take Jack’s hands in mine.
“My love,” I say, voice trembling but clear. “Before you, I didn’t know what it meant to feel truly seen . You came into my life like a storm, wrecking every wall I’d built…but you left something better behind. Safety. Hope. Belonging.”
I brush my thumb over his scarred knuckle.
“You call yourself darkness, but you’re the one who lit up all the dark corners I tried to forget. I vow to love you without condition. To believe in you even when you don’t believe in yourself. To hold your hand through the fire and dance in the ashes when it’s over.”
Jack’s eyes are glistening now.
“I vow to be your peace when the world gets too loud, your home when everything else feels cold. And no matter what comes, I will always choose you. In this life. And the next.”
Silence.
Thick. Full. Reverent.
“Before we continue,” Maverick says. “Does anyone here object to this union?”
“No one better say a fucking word,” Jack growls to our guests, causing them all to laugh. But, no one says a word.
“Alright. Jack, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Maverick asks.
“Fuck, yes, I do,” he says, causing everyone to laugh
“And Susanna,” Maverick smiles at me. “Do you take this man, this crazy obsessed over-top alpha male to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Fuck you, Maverick,” Jack says with no real heat.
Looking at Jack, I smile. “I do.”
Maverick finally clears his throat. “By the power vested in me…by the state California, and the grace of God…I now pronounce you husband and wife. Brother, you may kiss your blushing bride.”
Jack doesn’t hesitate. He yanks me forward and kisses me like the world just started over.
And maybe… for us… it just did.
“LET’S PARTY!” Skip shouts from somewhere behind us. “I WANT TO DANCE WITH THE brIDE!”
“Touch her and I’ll break your fucking arms,” Jack growls, pulling me against his chest like we haven’t been married for all of ten seconds.
“You’re possessive,” I murmur, grinning up at him.
“Only with you, doll.”
The backyard has been transformed. Strings of white lights crisscross overhead, warm and glowing like stars made just for us.
Tables are scattered around the space, each one covered in simple wildflowers and mismatched candles.
Thanks all to Riley and Abby. They also managed to prepare a full dessert bar, including a cake that reads ‘Til Death or Prison… Whichever Comes First… in black icing.
Skip commandeers the makeshift dance floor in the center of it all, pulling Crusher and Knuckles with him. I’m not sure what the move is supposed to be, but it involves a lot of stomping and pointing at each other’s boots.
“Come on, Jack,” I tease, tugging at his hand. “Let’s dance.”
“I don’t dance.”
“You will tonight.”
He mutters something about embarrassing himself but lets me pull him onto the dance floor anyway. His hands settle on my hips, large and familiar, and we just sway. It’s not fancy. It’s not graceful. But it’s real.
He presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “I’m gonna love you ‘til I stop breathing.”
“You better,” I whisper back.
“Congratulations,” Max says, stopping next to us. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“Thank you, brother,” Jack says, shaking Max’s hands.
The club voted to allow Max back in. But, he has to earn his Prospect Leader patch back. Skip told me the other day that Max isn’t the same person he was before everything went down. He must have gone through some things that changed him.
Max nods and walks away only for his spot to be taken by Patch who has a gift tucked under one arm.
“Uh oh,” Riley laughs from behind her drink. “He’s doing it again.”
Patch stops in front of us with a proud smirk and hands me a neatly wrapped box. “Congratulations, Mrs. Bones.”
“Thanks, Patch,” I say cautiously, already narrowing my eyes.
Jack eyes the box like it’s wired with explosives.
I tear off the paper and blink. The title reads: How to Survive Married to a Psycho Biker…A Field Guide for the Slightly Unhinged Bride
Jack groans. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
I open the book and read aloud, “Tip #6: When he growls at someone for looking at you, growl with him. Bonus points if you bare your teeth.”
I can’t help it…I burst into laughter.
“Give me that,” Jack grumbles, snatching the book out of my hands. “Is this supposed to be funny?”
Patch grins. “Chapter Ten is about carving initials into rival gang members. I figured it was your kind of love language. And, don’t even bother throwing that away. I have five more copies ready…just in case.”
“You want your medical license revoked?” Jack shoots back.
“Don’t need a license to hand you your first parenting book, too. That one’s next,” Patch says with a wink, then strolls off whistling.
I’m still laughing when Jack pulls me close again, burying his face in my neck.
“God help me, I’m gonna kill that man someday,” he mutters.
“You’ll have to wait until after the honeymoon.”
A slow song starts, the crowd thins to give us space, and for just a few moments, it’s only us. Me, in his arms. Him, breathing against my skin. Married. Home. Safe.
The music dips low for a moment, just enough for Skip’s voice to cut through the crowd like a chainsaw through sheet metal.
“HEY, EVERYONE!” he hollers from atop a table, holding up the book Patch gifted me like he’s found the holy grail. “Tip #18: When your biker gets too growly, distract him with sex or snacks. Bacon works. So does nudity. If you combine both, you may achieve temporary world peace.”
The whole crowd erupts in laughter. Even Patch tips his drink in approval.
I choke on a laugh, glancing up just in time to see Jack’s jaw tick.
He leans down, presses a soft kiss to my forehead, and whispers, “I’ll be right back, baby.”
Then he’s gone.
Charging full tilt across the grass after Skip, who yelps, jumps off the table, and takes off running like his life depends on it.
Which… honestly… it might.
“Worth it!” Skip yells, cackling as he disappears behind the clubhouse with my brand-new husband hot on his heels.
I just laugh, warm and full and free, my heart overflowing.
Yeah. This is exactly the ending we deserved.
And the beginning of something even better.