Chapter 26 #2
Hunter stiffens beside me, resisting the urge to correct her.
She presses on. “I came here angry. Hurt. Looking to prove something. Looking for vengeance and escape.” She meets my eyes.
“And I found something better. I found three men who love me without conditions. And together, we created our own family, and three little heartbeats.” She swallows hard.
“But I also found all of you. I found brothers and sisters who protect me as if I matter.”
“You do matter,” Smoke calls out.
“Damn right,” Hank adds gruffly.
She laughs through tears. “I finally have the family I always dreamed of,” she says softly.
“And I’ll fight just as hard to protect it as you do every day.
I will take down the Raging Bulls with you, not for vengeance, but to protect our family and to fight for what is right.
” The silence is thick and reverent. “I love you all, and I am honored to be a Ghost Rider,” she finishes simply.
The room erupts into applause and cheers.
Hunter kisses her temple. Cyrus wraps an arm around her shoulders.
I step forward and pull her into me. For a moment, it’s just us.
The noise fades, and the smell of beer, sweat, and leather is overwhelmed by Tori’s scent as I breathe her in.
She feels warm and solid against me. She’s real.
I can’t believe she’s mine. I never thought this moment would come, and I have never felt such unbridled joy.
Music kicks up from the speakers, classic rock vibrating through the floorboards. The bar opens fully as people start celebrating in earnest. Bottles clink together, and the sounds of chatting and laughter swell.
Screw limps toward us again, grinning. “Prez, you sure you can handle triplets?”
I arch a brow. “I handle this club, don’t I?”
“Barely,” Drifter mutters.
The teasing feels normal. Good. I don’t even reprimand them for it; I’m in such a good mood.
Shelly hugs Tori tight, whispering something that makes her smile through fresh tears.
I watch Tori move through the room, accepting congratulations, laughing at inappropriate jokes, glowing under every look of admiration.
Her first day as my old lady, and she’s already commanding the room. She’s going to make a fine club queen.
God, I’m lucky.
Hunter claps my shoulder. “Can’t keep your eyes off her.”
“Yeah,” I admit.
“Same here. She’s good at it.”
“She’s perfect.”
Cyrus joins us, eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them. “We’re really doing this.”
“Yeah,” I say again. “It’s official, we’ve got an old lady, and we’re gonna be dads.”
Fatherhood. The word used to feel abstract, distant, something other men did, men who led quieter lives. Now it feels like a loaded weapon in my chest, dangerous and powerful all at once. I’ve never been more scared in my life, or happy. Three babies. Three fragile lives that depend on me.
The music grows louder. Screw is dancing badly with one of the bunnies while Hank nurses a beer, his arm slung over Shelly’s shoulders. Red and Smoke argue over something near the pool table.
Everything is normal, and the atmosphere is more relaxed than it has been in weeks.
But my eyes keep drifting to the windows.
To the doors where the enemy could come barreling through at any minute.
As they swing open, I feel relief to see familiar faces entering.
My gaze looks out into the shadows of the parking lot, where bikes line up like sentries.
The Raging Bulls aren’t here; they haven’t come yet.
That doesn’t mean they won’t. If King decides to strike during a gathering like this—
My jaw tightens. The damage would be catastrophic. No MC would dare attack another on a day of celebration, and yet, King has no moral code. He’d be more likely to strike when it’s least expected, especially if he knew what we’re celebrating.
I step toward the front windows casually, scanning the perimeter.
Nothing unusual. Just the fading light and the hum of crickets starting up.
But I can’t shake the nervous tension that lies under my skin—the sense of foreboding.
When I turn back, Tori is watching me closely.
She always knows when my mind shifts into war mode.
Her brow furrows with concern, and I feel bad for making her worry.
She should be able to relax and enjoy the celebration.
I walk back to her and cup her face gently.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“You okay?” I ask, even though she’s the one worrying about me.
“I am.” Her hand rests over mine. “Are you?”
I glance around the room. At my brothers laughing together, watching Screw make obscene gestures. At Hank and Shelly, slow dancing. At the joy that our family feels in welcoming Tori.
“I will be,” I say softly.
She studies me. “You’re thinking about the war.”
“Always.”
Her fingers lace with mine. “We’ll handle it.”
We. That word anchors me, the quiet assurance that I am not alone. I lean down and kiss her slowly. The kiss is not possessive or heated; it’s the kiss of a partnership, built on more than just attraction. When I pull back, her eyes are bright with love.
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her.
She smiles. “I’m proud of us.”
The night stretches on in waves of music, drinks, and stories. At one point, Hunter drags me into a ridiculous group dance. Cyrus stays close to Tori all night, loving and protective without smothering. Every so often, someone rests a hand gently on her belly like it’s sacred ground.
As the hours pass, the celebration settles into something warmer and steadier. Brothers lounge on couches as the bar quiets slightly. The outside lights cast long beams across the parking lot. I stand near the doorway, on guard still.
I’m so lucky. That’s the thought that keeps circling through my mind. That makes me even more terrified, unable to relax with everyone else. I have so much more to lose.
My mind runs scenarios automatically, falling back on old habits to assure myself that if the Raging Bulls do come now, we’re prepared.
I count the exit routes and think about which rooms can serve as safe rooms. Does everyone remember the evacuation plans?
When was the last time we ran a drill? Are the guys on watch sober?
I’ll double the watch tonight. No, I’ll triple it.
No one touches her. No one touches our kids.
Tori catches my eye again across the room.
She lifts her chin slightly, confident, radiant, fearless.
She believes in us, in me. She doesn’t doubt we can keep her and our babies safe.
So I will make damn sure we deserve that belief, that we deserve her.
I push off the wall and walk back into the heart of the noise, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her against me.
The clubhouse is alive tonight. And as long as I’m breathing, it’s gonna stay that way.