Chapter Twenty-Nine
Riley
“You really don’t want a ceremony?” Abby asks for the third time. “I know your marriage is legal and everything, but you don’t want to walk down the aisle to your future?”
“I already wake up to my future every morning,” I smile at my best friend. “I don’t need a ceremony to cement that. However, we could still have a party.”
My ribs healed, and the bruises faded. But my back did scar. Spike’s name is as clear as day from the top of my back to the bottom. Patch says that the cream he gave me should help in the long run. I know that it’s my husband’s name, but knowing how it got there has done some major psychological damage to me.
I’ve been working through the damage with a therapist. Abby insisted on it. She swears by them and says going to one helped her heal from her past. I couldn’t say no, and I’m glad I didn’t. It’s been several months, and I can already feel myself healing.
“I think a party sounds like a grand idea,” Skip says from the floor, where he’s surrounded by puzzle pieces. “I’ll take care of everything. Spread the word. This Friday, we’re having a party to celebrate our newest Shadows.”
Before I can respond, the door swings open, and in walks my husband, carrying a gift bag in one hand and Asher in the other.
“First of all,” Spike says, setting the bag on the table, “Skip, you run everything by Riley when it comes to any party.”
Skip scoffs, waving him off. “She already gave me full control. Right, Riley?”
I nod. “Yes. But…” I add, seeing Spike’s raised brow, “I do want to send a personal invitation to Patch.”
Skip snorts. “Good luck getting him out of his cave.”
“I’ll handle it,” Spike says. “Now, more importantly, Asher and I got you something.”
Asher, oblivious to the moment, gurgles happily, chewing on his tiny fist as Spike hands me the gift bag.
Curious, I pull open the bag, my breath hitching when I see what’s inside. It’s a leather vest, almost identical to the ones everyone around here wears, except it looks softer. More feminine. I hold it up, the scent of leather filling my nose as I turn it around. On the back, in bold lettering, are the words: PROPERTY OF SPIKE.
Tears spring to my eyes, emotions hitting me all at once. “I…this is…” I swallow hard, unable to form words.
“She’s crying!” Skip announces unhelpfully. “I knew she’d love it!”
Abby grins. “You officially broke her, Bubby.”
I shake my head, laughing through my tears. “I don’t mind being called your property, Spike. Not even a little bit.” I pause, smirking up at him. “But just so we’re clear, I will never bow down to you.”
“That’s cute, baby,” Spike murmurs, leaning down until his lips are a breath away from mine. “But we both know you already have.”
I blink. “When?”
“Every single time you get on your knees for me.”
Skip groans. “I need to bleach my brain.”
Abby throws one of Asher’s soft books at Spike’s head. “You’re disgusting. I do not need to hear crap like that from my own brother.”
Spike just smirks, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his chest. “And yet, you all love me.”
I roll my eyes, still holding onto my gift. Yeah, I love this man. And no matter what life throws at us, I always will.
“Well, go on,” Skip says gleefully. “Put it on.”
“Yeah, baby,” Spike smiles, stepping back. “Show the world who you belong to.”
“Fine,” I laugh. “If it will make you happy, I’ll wear the vest.”
“It’s a cut,” Skip glares. “Don’t insult it by calling it a damn vest.”
With my new vest…cut…wrapped around my body, I laugh. Never in my life have I felt such joy.
“Your name is on my back,” I tell Spike, knowing he’ll understand.
His eyes widen, but I shake my head.
“It’s not the same, Spike,” I tell him. “This is something I choose to wear. Something I’m proud of. Something given to me out of love and not hate.”
Spike’s expression softens as he steps closer, his fingers tracing the edges of my cut. “Damn right, you should be proud,” he murmurs. “You’re my old lady, my wife, and now, officially, part of the Iron Shadows family.”
“Damn right!” Skip cheers, throwing a fist in the air.
I shake my head, laughing. “You just wanted to plan a party.”
“Guilty,” he grins. “But it’s also about welcoming you the right way.”
Abby crosses her arms, smirking. “I don’t know. I think we should make her do some kind of initiation.”
Skip gasps dramatically. “Oh! Maybe make her chug a beer, do a burnout on a bike, and wrestle Knuckles!”
Spike snorts. “I’m not letting my wife wrestle Knuckles.”
I raise a brow. “Because you’re worried I’d lose?”
He grins. “No. Because I’m worried you’d win, and his ego’s fragile.”
The room erupts in laughter, and as I glance around at the people who have become my family, warmth spreads through my chest.
I never thought I’d belong somewhere like this, but now, I can’t imagine my life anywhere else.