Chapter 52
The roar and bustle of the clubhouse had faded down to a soft, distant hum.
For three days straight, ever since the double births and the run at the border, everything had been chaos – crying babies, bikes revving, brothers coming and going from all the neighbouring charters.
I’d spent every waking minute checking on Ivy, watching over Rose’s recovery, making sure the newest little ones were strong and feeding well.
I loved them all more than I could say… but my own soul was running completely on empty.
I stood leaning against the cool wood of the corridor wall, holding a stack of fresh linens, my knees feeling like they might give way any second.
“Tamer.”
I lifted my head, seeing Pres’s shadow fall long across the hall. He walked toward me slower than usual, his cut open and loose, a soft, rare look of gratitude in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first – just stepped up, took the heavy stack gently out of my arms, and set them down nearby.
“Pres?” I asked quietly. “Is everything alright? Rose? The twins?”
“All perfect. Rose is resting,” he said softly, his deep voice warm and steady. He pulled something from his pocket – an old, tarnished brass key, strung on a worn leather fob. “This is for the cabin I own. I took Rose to when we first got together.”
I stared at it, shaking my head a little. “Pres… I can’t take your private place…”
“You can and you will,” he rumbled, a small smile tugging at his stubble.
“You’ve held this whole chapter together this week, Danika.
You’ve looked after everyone else since the day you got here.
Rage is waiting out front with his truck.
He’s got the next few days covered. We asked Maeve if she would come in and she already said she’ll come in if you need anything here.
It is a good test run for her to see if the club is a place she can handle.
Go get your head straight, sister. We’ll still be standing when you get back. ”
Tears pricked my eyes before I could stop them, and I wrapped him in a hug that felt long overdue. “Thank you, Pres. So much.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said, giving my shoulder a firm, gentle pat. “We’re the ones who owe you. Now go on.”
Stepping out of the gates and onto the open road felt like coming up for air after being underwater for days.
Rage wasn’t on his chopper today – with ice still lingering high up, he’d taken his heavy black Raptor instead.
I climbed into the passenger seat, pulling a thick wool blanket around my legs, and the heater was already blowing warm against my skin.
He’d taken his cut off, sitting there in just an old, faded t-shirt that showed every line and scar of him, his big hands resting easy on the wheel.
We didn’t speak for the first hour. Just let the deep rumble of the engine roll beneath us, watching the frosted trees slip past, washing away the sharp smell of clinic and antiseptic until only pine and clean cold air remained.
As the sun began to sink low, painting the sky soft violet and rose, we turned off the highway, winding down a narrow track deep into the woods.
And then suddenly, there it was – the lake, still and dark like polished glass, catching the first stars coming out.
Right on the shore sat a little log cabin, warm and solid, looking like it belonged to the place, untouched by all the mess of the world.
Rage cut the engine, and silence fell soft and deep around us. He turned to me, his dark eyes full of nothing but quiet adoration. “We’re here, sweetheart.”
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed out, letting myself sink into the stillness.
He stepped round and opened my door, sweeping me up into his arms before my boots could even touch the floor. I laughed soft and light, wrapping my arms tight around his neck as he carried me up the steps.
The inside smelled of dried cedar and old wood, and within minutes he had a fire crackling bright in the big stone hearth, casting warm gold light all over the room.
I changed into soft warm clothes and stood for a moment looking out the window, looking over the lake, feeling every bit of tension slowly melt right out of me.
Then strong arms wrapped firm around my waist, pulling me back against a warm solid chest.
“No calls,” Rage rumbled against my neck, his voice low and thick and safe. “No babies crying. No one banging on the gate. No lawyers, no threats. Just you and me, Danika.”
I turned slowly in his hold, and looked up at him – no cut, no guns, no Enforcer face. Just the man who loved me, who’d stood by me through everything.
“Just us,” I whispered, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw.
He leaned down slow, kissing me deep and sure, with all the weight of everything we’d been through and everything we still wanted.
He lifted me up easy, carrying me over to the big soft sofa pulled close to the fire, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the world fell completely quiet.
This time was ours, and I was going to make sure we enjoyed every moment together.