Chapter 13 #2
This is different from the woods, different from his room in Florida. Not desperate survival. Not frantic need.
This is claiming.
Promising.
Building something that might actually last.
"I love you," I say against her lips.
"I love you too."
The words settle between us like a vow.
Later—after we've kissed until we're both breathless, after the sun has fully set and darkness has fallen—I take her to the clubhouse for dinner.
The main room is full.
Twenty Shotgun Saints members scattered around, eating barbecue that someone picked up from town, drinking beer, the nervous energy of men preparing for war thrumming through everything.
All eyes turn when we walk in together, my arm around her shoulders.
Phantom looks up from where he's talking to Shadow. "So, this is her."
"This is Helle." I pull her closer. "My ol' lady."
Murmurs ripple through the room.
Surprise, respect, curiosity.
A Nomad claiming an ol' lady isn't unheard of, but it's rare enough to be noteworthy.
Shadow pushes off from the table he's leaning against, walks over with that cocky grin. "Damn, Bravos. You didn't say she was this hot."
From the corner, Grace's voice: "Jesus, Shadow. Can you not?"
"What? I'm giving a compliment."
"You're being a Neanderthal."
"Says the girl who spends her days elbow-deep in horse vaginas."
"That's not even—you know what, I'm not engaging with you." Grace closes her laptop with more force than necessary. "I have actual work to do at actual ranches with actual animals who have more brain cells than you."
"You know you love me, Princess."
"I really, really don't."
Phantom's voice cuts through: "Shadow. Shut up."
Shadow grins but steps back, hands raised in surrender.
Phantom stands, walks over, extends his hand to Helle. "I'm Phantom. President here."
"Helle." She takes his hand, shakes firmly. "I'm—"
"His ol' lady. Yeah, we heard." Small smile. "Welcome to Sharp Shooter Ranch. You're under club protection now. That means something here."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. You're dating a Nomad who's about to go to war. That's not easy." His eyes are kind but serious. "You prepared for that?"
"No, but I'm doing it anyway."
Phantom nods, respect clear on his face. "Good. We need more women with spines around here. Grace is carrying the whole damn load by herself."
"I heard that," Grace calls from where she's packing up her things. "And you're right."
She walks over, extends her hand to Helle. "I'm Grace. One of Phantom's daughters. Ignore Shadow—he's an idiot."
From across the room: "I heard that!"
"You were supposed to!" Grace doesn't even look at him. "You need anything—food, shower, place to sleep that's not Bravos' gross bunk—let me know."
"His bunk is fine," Helle says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
Grace grins. "Oh, I like you. We're keeping her, Bravos."
"That's the plan."
Grace gives Helle her number, extracts a promise to text if she needs anything, glares at Shadow one more time for good measure, and heads out to her truck.
The room settles back into its pre-dinner rhythm.
Members introduce themselves—some friendly, some reserved, all respectful because I claimed her and they damn well know better.
Phantom pulls me aside while Helle's talking to one of the younger members about her bike.
"You're sure about this?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah."
"Because bringing an ol' lady into this, right before a major operation—"
"I know. But I didn't bring her. She brought herself." I watch her across the room, laughing at something someone said. "And I'm not letting her go."
"Even if it complicates things?"
"Yep."
Phantom studies me for a long moment. "You've changed. Since Florida. Since her."
"Yeah."
"Good change or bad change?"
"Don't know yet, but it feels right."
He claps me on the shoulder. "All right. Then we make it work. But Bravos? After this is over, after Los Coyotes is handled—you need to figure out if you're still a Nomad or if you're staying put. Can't do both forever."
"I know."
"Good. Now go be with your girl. Tomorrow the real work starts."
Later that night, back in my room, we're lying in my narrow bed that barely fits us both.
She's wearing my t-shirt—black, too big on her, perfect.
Curled against my side with her head on my chest, one leg thrown over mine.
"I'm scared," she admits quietly.
"Me too."
"What if—"
"Don't." I kiss her forehead. "We're not doing 'what ifs' tonight. Tonight we just have this. Us."
"Okay." She traces patterns on my chest with her finger. "Us."
"Tomorrow Runes and Damon arrive with their men. Then it gets crazy."
"And the next day?"
"Next day we go to war."
She's quiet for a long moment. "Promise me you'll come back."
"I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep." Women, man.
"Then I promise I'll do everything I can to come back. To you. To this." I tilt her chin up so she's looking at me. "You're my home now, Helle. First time I've had one in eighteen years. I'm not giving that up without a fight."
Tears slide down her cheeks and I wipe them away with my thumb.
"I love you," she whispers.
"I love you too."
We fall asleep tangled together as the night deepens around us.