Epilogue One
We were all crowded into Harley’s shop, with my tattoo station set up there, and Has-Been with his, and I couldn’t believe it was happening. Literally couldn’t believe it.
V was choosing me. She was choosing me for more than just a few days, or months.
She was choosing me forever. I finally found someone who wanted me, without limitations, or conditions.
She loved me. She loved me as much as I loved her.
It was a new experience to have that love reciprocated, maybe for both of us, so this night was a fucking epic milestone for her as well as me.
We’d planned to meet at my own tattoo place, even though I was planning on closing that down, to focus on my respray business, but as bikers started arriving there, it became clear that it was too fucking small to fit us all in.
It took a few hours to move us all here, with our kit, but finally we were all in one place, with beers, and…
and my old lady. She really didn’t like the ‘old’ part of the name, but she got it.
She’d be mine, and she’d grow old with me.
Since we’d sadly failed so far in creating life together, we were making it official now, while we could, because that baby thing? That was still the fucking plan. The sooner the better.
“You ready, brother?” Has-Been was standing at the tattoo station, brandishing his own tattoo kit, because V had insisted on mine being done first, and I was cool with that.
Someone had passed me an alcohol-free beer, like that shit Ice drinks, but fuck that.
I was drinking coffee for now, and I’d have beer once V’s tat was done.
“Can you do my name really big? Like just dominating his body?”
Laughter filled the space, and even though I knew Harley was edgy about having the club here like this, because it was pretty clear there was a club connection with his business now, I could also see how much he loved this family all being in one place.
We were still a dysfunctional family right now, but it was improving.
Henley was here, even though he was half with his bestie, messaging her constantly, and frowning with worry at every response. I appreciated his presence. Even though these kinds of things were generally a club event, personal things like family in need were respected.
“Wait… I’m not just doing a V?”
She laughed, stroking her fingers over my chest, sending tingles across my skin in their wake. Jesus, don’t get a stiffy, do not get a stiffy. I held my breath, fighting the way her touch made me feel, because you don’t live that shit down when you’re surrounded by everyone like this.
“You’d better just do a V. That’s why it has to be big, see. He's got plenty of room just here.” Her fingers trailed over my skin again, and I shrugged, trying to keep my focus on their words.
“Do it as big as she wants. I’m good.”
“See? He likes it big.”
More laughter followed her words, her grin widening as she felt their acceptance as one of them, and I heard Stag start to say something obnoxious, but his words choked off with a grunt, so someone thankfully shut him up.
“Prick,” I heard him curse at whoever the hell just rescued our ears from his verbal assault.
“You’re next, baby. How big do you think you’re getting it? I can make demands too.”
“I also like it big, Rocket. You never disappoint.”
This time the sound filling the air was groans and fake gagging. I fucking loved these guys. Okay, I loved a few of them, and I was starting to like others. It was still a strange place to be. Not the same camaraderie as the old chapter, but then a few of them were here to witness this too.
Torch was hanging with Micro, and Ryder and Has were here with me.
The surprise was Ice, but he was here with his old lady, who had been having a quiet chat with Henley, before things got started.
Maybe she was going to help his friend. I had no idea, see, I wanted to know, but nosiness wasn’t my thing. He’d tell me if I needed to know.
I glanced at him again, as I relished the burn of the tattoo needle branding me with my old lady’s name.
“Brother, if you need to go to her, we’re good.”
His head lifted, and he grimaced. “I’m being rude. I’m sorry. She’s… I don’t know. Scared. Hurting. Depressed. I don’t know. I’m afraid if she’s alone too long…” he swallowed hard and glanced at his phone, “I just feel better when she’s beside me.”
It hit me then, the thing that’d been staring me in the face, but I was too dumb to see it.
“You love her.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Obviously. She’s my best friend. We grew up together.”
I shook my head, and he sighed when he saw my face, saw that I understood what he was hoping he hadn't given away.
“You’re IN love with her. Why the hell aren’t you together?”
He groaned, dragging his hair back with tense fingers, and checking his phone once more.
“Because she fell for someone else.”
Jesus. How that must have felt, for him to watch his love choose another man.
I couldn’t even imagine, or could I? Maybe a little?
Back at the OG club, I’d been falling for someone who chose their ego and cruelty over me.
It was a little similar. It meant I could understand how the unrequited thing felt.
“Sorry, man. Maybe now she’s-”
“Nope. She’s here to heal, not to get jumped on.”
I fell into my thoughts, worry for my friend, relief at my situation being resolved, pride at being marked with my old lady’s name, and knowing that she’d soon be wearing mine.
The hours slipped into each other, with laughter, banter, and good cheer filling the air, although I noticed when Henley slipped outside with his phone against his ear, and didn’t return. I hoped she wasn’t going to fuck with his heart now. He didn’t deserve that.
A slap against my chest made me curse, and my head whipped around so fast so I could yell at Has, but it was V.
“Are you deaf? He said he’s done.” Whoa. I glanced down at the side of my chest that didn’t bear her handprint, and fuck me, it was beautiful. Has really did do beautiful work.
“I love it, man. It’s perfect.”
Has rolled his eyes as he started packing up his kit.
“Obviously. Alright, someone beer me.”
I got up and helped V down into the chair, despite her assertions that she didn’t need any help. She’d learn to accept help, and maybe even learn to ask for it, but she’d get it either way.
“Okay, baby. Let’s get you inked.”
“Wait!” Fuck. Don’t change your mind. Please don’t change your mind.
If she did that now, I’d wear her name, and she’d not even be mine.
Fears and doubt started to crowd my mind, and the room started to dim around me, as light and sound all became this monotonous dull roar, and panic filled my head.
She wasn’t choosing me. She’d still leave me.
“Okay. Oi, Rocket! I said I’m ready. I needed to adjust the bloody chair.” Air flowed back into my lungs, and I dropped to my knees beside her, my face in her lap. She sensed my unease, and stroked her fingers through my hair, as we both ignored various sounds, including a few comments of awwww.
“I wasn’t changing my mind, baby, I promise. I just wanted to be comfortable for this.”
V dragged her fingers through my hair again, gripping the ends and tugging them, until the sharp bite chased away a little of the fog of panic that’d settled around me.
“I’m not going anywhere, Rocket. I’m not leaving you. I love you. Look at me, dickhead.”
I forced a deeper breath, and more clarity filled my senses, as I lifted my head. The room lurched a little, but settled in the next instant. Noise was filling my ears again, from the people around me, and not my own fears and the usual bullshit.
“Jesus.”
“Rocket, I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to trigger you.”
I opened my mouth to speak, and someone slapped my back.
“He’s always triggered. Nice tits, love.”
V
Those words were more of a trigger than anything I could have said, as Rocket shot up from his knees, and shoved the guy who spoke. As it turned out, it was the prospect I’d come to know as Simon, who had given me shit a few times during the time Rocket was gone, but was mostly okay.
Rocket took him down onto the hard floor, and punches flew for mere seconds, before they were both up again, laughing, and then bro-hugging, like that was just part of the fun.
When Rocket turned back to me, he looked like his old self.
The fears had dissipated again, and that possessive heat lingered in his gaze.
I was so getting fucked when this was over, and I couldn’t wait.
I hadn’t exposed my breasts, obviously, because the tattoo was going on my upper arm, where I could enjoy it, and show it off.
I think Simon the prospect was a little more clued in on human nature or body language than many of them.
He’d probably be quite the club member, if he could keep toeing the line.
“Ink me, Rocket. I’m yours,” I said loudly, because sometimes, even while you’re being claimed, you have to claim your man right back.
In true honeymooner style, after a few drinks for me, and a single beer for Rocket, we were heading out while the party was still swinging. We wanted to get back to ‘our place’ and celebrate privately.
Someone had literally strung a bunch of old cans to the back of Rocket’s motorbike, with a ‘just married’ sign, which gave me a little shiver, because it wasn’t marriage.
It really wasn’t. But it was something better.
Something more. Something that felt more real, and more secure than anything I’d had before.
The other thing giving me a shiver was the motorbike itself.
For the first time in our relationship, and unlikely to be the last, I was about to get on it.
It had a new seat fitted on the back, because the position where they’d placed the strap-on that time wasn’t actually a seat, as it turns out, but Rocket had added one. For me.