Chapter 12 Bonnie
BONNIE
I’m sitting in the common room helping Jamie inventory medical supplies when Jackal’s name lights up the screen. I nearly drop the box of bandages in my rush to answer.
“Where the hell have you been?” I demand instead of hello.
“Nice to hear your voice too, sis.”
“Jackal, I’ve been calling for days!”
“I know. Sorry. Things have been crazy out here.” Background noise carries through the line. Engines, male voices, the sounds of a clubhouse in motion. “Are you okay? You escaped from the wedding.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I move to a quieter corner, away from Jamie’s curious ears. “What happened with Dad? How did he get arrested? Why did he get arrested? Who snitched?”
Silence stretches for too long.
“Jackal?”
“It’s complicated,” he finally says. “I can’t explain over the phone.”
“What the fuck, Jackal?”
He sighs. “Look, I’m coming back as soon as I can. I’m still recruiting members for the new chapter, but once I have enough guys, we’re heading your way to help with the Savage Legion situation.”
“When?”
“A few weeks, maybe a month. Depends on how fast I can build a solid crew.”
A month. It might as well be a year with how fast things are moving here.
“Jackal, I need to know what’s going on. Did you—” I lower my voice even more. “Did you have something to do with Dad’s arrest?”
“We’ll talk when I get there,” he says, which isn’t a denial. “Face-to-face. Too many ears on phone calls these days.”
Frustration burns through me. “That’s not good enough.”
“It has to be. I’m sorry, Bonnie. I know you want answers. But trust me when I say this isn’t a conversation we can have remotely.” His voice softens. “Are you safe? Is Ash taking care of you?”
“Yeah. Actually…” I take a breath. “We’re getting married. Next week.”
“What?!”
“Strategic marriage. Protection. With Dad gone, I’m vulnerable. Ash proposed, and I said yes.”
“Bonnie—”
“It makes sense,” I cut him off before he can lecture me. “Marcus is still claiming I belong to him. But if I’m Ash’s wife, I’m untouchable.”
“There are other ways to protect you—”
“Name one that doesn’t involve hiding me in a safe house for the rest of my life.”
He can’t. We both know it.
“Does Ash know how you feel about him?” Jackal asks carefully.
My face burns. “It’s not about feelings. It’s strategic.”
“Right. Strategic.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “Just…be careful. I know you’ve had a thing for him since you were like fifteen—”
“Goodbye, Jackal.” I hang up before he can embarrass me further.
Jamie looks up from her inventory. “Everything okay?”
I nod. “Yes. Yes.”
The week passes in a blur of violence and preparation.
Savage Legion hits two more businesses under our protection.
No one’s killed yet, but it’s only a matter of time.
The brothers stretch themselves thin trying to defend everything at once. Patrols run constantly. Guards double up at vulnerable locations. Everyone’s exhausted, running on adrenaline and anger.
Ash barely sleeps. I catch him in his office at three AM, going over maps, planning defensive positions, trying to find a weakness in Marcus’s strategy.
“You need rest,” I tell him one night.
“I’ll rest when this is over.” He doesn’t look up from his papers. “How are your feet?”
“Better. Jamie says I can walk without bandages in a few more days.”
“Good.” He finally meets my eyes. “The wedding’s in two days. Still sure about this?”
Am I? I’ve spent the week convincing myself it’s just a strategy, just a tactical move to protect the club and keep me safe from Marcus. But when Ash looks at me like that—tired and worried and somehow still devastatingly handsome—strategy feels like a lie I’m telling myself.
“I’m sure,” I say.
“You can still back out. We’ll find another way—”
“There is no other way.” I move closer to his desk. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“No.” The word comes fast and firm. “I want this. Want you safe. Want…” He trails off, shakes his head. “Never mind. Two days. Small ceremony. Just the club.”
“Just the club,” I repeat. “Sounds perfect.”
I stand in front of my bedroom mirror for the second time in two weeks, but this time I’m not wearing white silk and terror. Just a simple dress, dark blue, knee-length, nothing fancy. Jamie helped me with my hair and makeup, but kept it natural. I look like myself instead of some packaged bride.
This is better. This is what I want.
I almost believe it.
Titan knocks on my door at noon. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
He offers his arm, and I take it, letting him lead me downstairs to where the ceremony will happen.
The brothers line the walls, dressed in their leather vests and jeans.
Ash stands at the front near the fireplace. He cleaned up—fresh shirt, vest with his new president patch, hair combed back. He looks good. He always looks good, but today there’s something different in the way he watches me walk toward him.
Ghost and Titan flank him. No traditional best man, but these are his brothers, his family.
I reach the front, and Titan releases my arm. I turn to face Ash, and my heart does something complicated in my chest.
The club chaplain—an older member who got ordained online specifically for moments like this—clears his throat. “We’re gathered here because Ash and Bonnie have decided to bind themselves together.” He looks at Ash. “You got vows?”
Ash takes my hands. His palms are warm, calloused, steady.
“I vow to protect you,” he says. “To keep you safe from anyone who wants to hurt you. To give you the freedom to be who you are, to pursue your dreams, to never cage you.” His thumbs trace circles on my hands. “I vow to stand beside you. Not in front of you, not behind you. Beside you. Always.”
My throat tightens.
The chaplain looks at me. “Your turn.”
I swallow hard. “I vow to trust you. To let you protect me without fighting you every step of the way.” A few brothers chuckle.
“I vow to be honest with you, even when the truth is uncomfortable. To stand with this club, to defend our family, to never back down from a fight that matters.” I squeeze his hands.
“And I vow to remind you that you’re not alone in this.
Whatever weight you carry as president, you don’t have to carry it by yourself. I’m here. I’m yours.”
Ash beams at me, and my cheeks only go redder.
“Rings,” the chaplain prompts.
Ghost produces two simple silver bands.
Ash slides a ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly.
I do the same for him, my hands shaking slightly.
“By the power vested in me by the internet and the state of California,” the chaplain says with a grin, “I pronounce you husband and wife. Ash, kiss your bride before she changes her mind.”
Ash cups my face in his hands and kisses me.
The world falls away.
His lips are gentle at first, almost like he’s afraid I’ll break. But then I lean into him and the kiss deepens, turns hungry, becomes a promise of things to come.
I forget we’re standing in front of the entire club. Forget everything except the way Ash tastes like whiskey and the way his lips move against mine.
When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. Ash rests his forehead against mine. “Hi, wife,” he murmurs.
“Hi, husband.”
The club erupts in cheers and whistles. Brothers surge forward to congratulate us, slap Ash on the back, and hug me carefully because everyone knows I’m still healing.
The party starts immediately. Someone cranks up the music. Beer appears from seemingly nowhere. The common room transforms into celebration central as brothers toast the new marriage and the new president.
Because that’s the other thing happening today—Ash officially takes on the title. With Dad in federal custody and no sign of getting out, the club needs leadership. Ash has been acting president for weeks, but now it’s official.
The brothers raise their glasses. “To President Ash and his old lady Bonnie!”
The response is deafening. “To Ash and Bonnie!”
I find myself pulled into conversation after conversation.
Titan appears at my elbow with a beer. “How’s it feel to be an old lady?”
“Ask me when my head stops spinning.”
He laughs. “Fair enough. For what it’s worth, I think you two are good together. Even if Ash is an idiot who doesn’t know how to express emotions.”
“I heard that,” Ash calls from across the room.
“Good!” Titan shouts back. “You’re an emotionally stunted disaster!”
“And you’re a pain in my ass!”
“That’s what brothers are for!”
Ghost materializes beside me with a plate of food. “Eat. You’ve been going nonstop for an hour.”
“I’m fine—”
He gives me a look that says he’s not arguing.
I take the plate. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He hesitates. “I meant what I said the other day. About being on your side.”
“I know.” I bump my shoulder against his side. “We’re good.”
“Good.”
Hours pass. The sun sets. Someone starts a bonfire outside, and the party spills into the compound yard. I end up on a bench near the fire, watching people tell stories and razz each other with the casual cruelty of people who love each other.
Ash appears beside me. He’s shed his vest, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly mussed from the celebration. “Having fun?” he asks.
“More than I expected.”
“Good.” He takes my hand, threads our fingers together. “Dance with me.”
He pulls me to my feet and into his arms. We sway together. His hand rests on my lower back. Mine finds his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“For what?”
“For your vows.”
His hand tightens on my back. “Bonnie, this is real.” He pulls back enough to look at me. “You’re not just a tactical advantage. You’re my wife. And I plan to treat you like it.”
My heart stutters. “Ash—”
“Come with me,” he says.
“Where?”
His smile turns wicked. “Somewhere more private. I have plans for you, Mrs. Torres.”
Heat floods through me. “Oh?”
“Wedding night plans.” He tugs me toward the clubhouse.