Epilogue
Shadow
Two Months Later…
I wake up to the sound of Grace being sick in the bathroom.
Again.
It's been a week since we found out, and the morning sickness hasn't let up.
I swing my legs out of bed, pad barefoot across the hardwood floor, and find her kneeling on the bathroom tile.
"You okay, darlin'?" I ask, crouching beside her.
"Peachy," she mutters, then immediately retches again.
I hold her hair back, rub circles on her back, and wait it out.
This is my life now—enforcer for a motorcycle club, husband to a veterinarian, and soon-to-be father.
Father.
The word still feels surreal even though we've had a week to process it.
When Grace finally sits back, exhausted and pale, I hand her a cool washcloth and help her to her feet.
"Maybe we should call the doctor," I say. "This seems worse than it should be."
"It's normal. The first trimester is rough sometimes." She rinses her mouth, leans against the counter. "It'll pass."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." She manages a weak smile. "Besides, I'm not canceling lunch with my mom. I've been looking forward to this all week."
Lunch. Right. Jolene's coming over in a few hours.
We still haven't told anyone about the pregnancy—not Phantom, not Dakota, not the club. Just us, sitting with the secret, marveling at it every single day.
But today, we decided, we'll tell Jolene.
"Come on," I say, helping Grace back to bed. "Rest a bit before you have to get up."
"I need to start cooking—"
"I'll handle it. You rest."
She doesn't argue, which tells me how bad she feels. Just curls up on her side, and I pull the blanket over her.
Charlie jumps up on the bed—she's not supposed to, but we gave up enforcing that rule weeks ago—and settles against Grace's stomach like she knows something's different.
Maybe she does. Dogs are smart like that.
An hour later, Grace is feeling better and insisting on helping with lunch prep.
"I'm pregnant, not dying," she says when I try to make her sit down. "Let me do this."
So we work together in the kitchen—me grilling chicken, her making a salad and sides.
"You think she'll be happy?" Grace asks, chopping tomatoes.
"Your mom? She's going to lose her mind. In a good way."
"I hope so." Grace pauses. "She's been doing really well, you know. Since our talk."
I glance at her. "Yeah? How so?"
"She got her own apartment. In town, not near the clubhouse. Started volunteering at the animal shelter three days a week. Joined a book club." Grace smiles. "She's finding herself. Finally."
"That's good. Really good." I flip the chicken on the grill. "And your dad?"
"Respects the distance, as far as I can tell. Doesn't push. But I think he misses her."
"Think they'll get back together?"
Grace is quiet for a moment. "Maybe, but I hope not. They haven’t been right for each other in years, and Mom can get so possessive when it comes to Dad. It’s chaos waiting to happen."
Smart woman, my wife.
"And the book club?" I ask. "That going well?"
Grace grins. "She's reading romance novels. Really spicy ones, apparently. Dakota told me Mom blushed talking about the last book."
I laugh. "Good for her."
We finish cooking just as I hear tires on the gravel driveway. Charlie barks, tail wagging, and runs to the door.
Jolene's here.
Grace's mom looks different when she walks in.
Not physically—she looks the same. But there's something lighter about her. Like she's not carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders anymore.
"Hey, baby girl," Jolene says, hugging Grace. Then she turns to me. "Shadow."
"Jolene. Good to see you."
She's wearing jeans and a plain blue shirt—no Shotgun Saints merchandise, I notice.
Making a statement, maybe. Or just being herself.
"Something smells amazing," she says, following us into the kitchen.
"Shadow grilled chicken," Grace says. "And I made the sides."
"Well, you two make a good team."
We settle at the table—the same table where Grace and I have eaten countless meals, had countless conversations, built this life together.
Jolene talks about her week. The book club met Tuesday and discussed some historical romance that everyone loved. The animal shelter got in a litter of puppies that she's been helping socialize. Her apartment is coming together nicely—she found a vintage bookshelf at a yard sale.
She's happy. Genuinely happy.
And she hasn't mentioned Phantom once.
"How's the club?" Jolene asks, looking at me. "Everything going well?"
"Yeah. Smooth. No threats, no problems. Just regular club business."
"And you're back to being Enforcer full-time?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She smiles. "Good. You earned it."
We eat, and the conversation flows easily. Jolene asks about Grace's vet practice—it's been busier than ever. Grace asks about Jolene's volunteering—she's thinking about fostering a dog.
Then Jolene looks at Grace more closely. "You okay, baby? You look tired."
Grace and I exchange a glance.
This is it.
"Actually, Mom," Grace says, reaching for my hand under the table. "There's something we wanted to tell you."
Jolene's eyes widen slightly. "Oh?"
"We're pregnant."
For a second, Jolene just stares. Processing.
Then her face crumples, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh my God. Oh my God, really?"
"Really," Grace says, crying too now. "About six weeks along. We found out last week."
Jolene's out of her chair in an instant, pulling Grace into a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you. So, so happy."
"Thanks, Mom."
Jolene pulls back, wipes her eyes, then looks at me. "And you. You're going to be a father."
"Yes, ma'am."
She crosses to me, and before I can react, she's hugging me too. "Congratulations, Shadow. Both of you. This is wonderful news."
When she finally lets go, she's still crying but smiling wide. "Does your father know?"
"Not yet," Grace says. "You're the first person we've told."
Jolene looks touched. "Really?"
"Really. We wanted you to know first."
"When are you telling him?"
I look at Grace. "Tonight, maybe. Rip the bandaid off."
"He's going to be thrilled," Jolene says, sitting back down. "A grandfather. He'll love that."
There's something wistful in her voice when she says it.
Like she's imagining Phantom's reaction.
Like she wishes she could be there to see it.
But she doesn't push. Doesn't ask to come along. She’s respecting the boundaries she's set for herself.
Which is progress, if you ask me.
After lunch, Jolene stays for coffee and we talk about baby things.
Names we like. Whether we'll find out the gender. How Grace is feeling beyond the morning sickness.
"My mom had terrible morning sickness with me," Jolene says. "But it passed around twelve weeks. Hopefully yours will too."
"God, I hope so," Grace mutters.
Eventually, Jolene glances at her watch. "I should get going. Have some errands to run and things to get done back at my place."
She hugs us both goodbye, promises to check in soon, and drives off in her own car.
Not Phantom's truck. Not asking for a ride from a brother.
Her own car. Her own life.
Honestly, I'm proud of her.
"She's really doing it," Grace says, watching her mom's car disappear down the driveway. "Building her own life."
"She is. Thanks to you."
"I just gave her a push. She did the rest."
I pull Grace close, my hand settling on her still-flat stomach. "You ready to tell your dad tonight?"
"Yeah. Let's get it over with."
The clubhouse is busy when we arrive that evening.
Brothers working on bikes, shooting the shit, the normal rhythm of club life. I've been back as Enforcer for two months now, and it feels like I never left.
Except better. Because now I have Grace. Officially. Completely.
"Shadow!" Rogue calls from across the lot. "Need you to look at something when you get a chance."
"Later," I call back. "Need to talk to Prez first."
Phantom's in his office, going over paperwork. He looks up when we walk in. "Grace. Shadow. Everything okay?"
"Yeah," I say. "We just need to talk to you. Privately."
Phantom's expression sharpens with concern. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," Grace says quickly. "The opposite, actually."
Phantom relaxes slightly, gestures for us to sit. "All right. What's going on?"
Grace looks at me. I nod.
"Dad," she says, her voice soft. "We're pregnant."
Phantom goes completely still. Just stares at us like he didn't hear right.
"You're—" He stops. Clears his throat. "You're having a baby?"
"Yes," Grace says, smiling. "About six weeks along."
Phantom's face does something complicated—shock, joy, emotion he's trying to control but can't quite manage. His eyes get wet.
"I'm going to be a grandfather," he says quietly.
"Yeah, Dad. You are."
He stands abruptly, comes around the desk, and pulls Grace into a hug. "Congratulations, baby girl. This is—this is amazing."
"Thanks, Dad."
When he lets go of Grace, he turns to me and extends his hand. I shake it, and he pulls me in for a brief, hard hug.
"You take care of her," he says quietly. "Both of them."
"Always."
When we pull apart, Phantom's wiping his eyes. "Does Jolene know?"
"We told her at lunch today," Grace says.
Something flickers across Phantom's face. "How is she?"
"She's good. Really good. Happy."
"Good. That's... good." Phantom clears his throat again, visibly pulling himself together. "Well. This calls for celebration. Let me get the brothers."
"Dad, we don't need to make a big deal—"
"My daughter's having a baby. That's a big deal." He's already moving toward the door. "Thunder! Blaze! Get in here!"
Word spreads through the clubhouse like wildfire.
Within ten minutes, brothers are congratulating us, slapping me on the back, hugging Grace carefully. Someone breaks out whiskey—which Grace obviously can't drink, but everyone toasts to the baby anyway.
"To Shadow and Grace!"
"To the next generation of the Shotgun Saints!"
"To family!"
Banshee appears at some point, pulls me aside. "Congratulations, brother. That's amazing news."
"Thanks, man."
He smiles, genuine happiness in his eyes. But I see the grief underneath. The longing for what he lost. For the family he'll never have with the wife he buried.
"You doing okay?" I ask quietly.
"Yeah. I'm good." He claps my shoulder. "Enjoy this, Shadow. Every second of it. It's precious."
He walks away before I can respond, disappearing into the crowd of celebrating brothers.
I make a mental note to check on him. Soon.
But tonight is about celebration. About family. About the future Grace and I are building.
Later, driving home under a sky full of Texas stars, Grace is quiet beside me.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
"Everything. How much has changed in such a short time." She looks at me. "Six months ago, we were hiding our relationship. You were about to be exiled. Everything was falling apart."
"And now?"
"Now we're married. You're reinstated. We're having a baby." She smiles. "Everything came back together."
I reach across the console, take her hand. "Because you fought for it. For us."
"We fought for it."
"Yeah. We did."
We pull into our driveway, and Charlie's waiting at the door, tail wagging.
Grace lets her out for a quick bathroom break while I lock up the truck.
Inside, we go through our evening routine—Grace showering, me checking the doors and windows, both of us brushing our teeth side by side at the bathroom sink.
Domestic. Normal. Perfect.
In bed, Grace curls into my side, her head on my chest.
My hand settles on her stomach—still flat, but I know what's growing there. Our baby. Our future.
"Shadow?" Her voice is sleepy.
"Yeah, darlin'?"
"Are you scared? About being a father?"
I'm quiet for a moment, honest with her like I always am. "Terrified. But also... excited. Like this is what I've been working toward without knowing it."
"Me too."
"We'll figure it out," I say. "Together."
"Together."
I close my eyes, Grace safe in my arms, our baby growing inside her, Charlie snoring softly at the foot of the bed.
This is my life now.
From losing everything to having everything.
Enforcer. Husband. Soon-to-be father.
The ranch. The club. The family.
Everything I fought for. Everything I almost lost. Everything I'll protect with my last breath.
I think about the baby—whether it's a boy or girl, what they'll look like, teaching them to ride horses and fix bikes and live with honor.
I think about Grace—strong, brave, beautiful Grace who chose me when she could have chosen safety.
I think about the life we're building here on this Texas land. The legacy we'll leave.
And I fall asleep grateful. Hopeful. Happy.
Forever mine.