Epilogue
POPPY
Fifteen Years Later
The roar of fifty motorcycles fills the air as our convoy approaches the California Institute for Women.
I adjust my position on my Harley, the leather of my president’s cut pulling tight across my shoulders as I raise my fist, signaling the convoy to slow.
Behind me, the Winged Defiance MC rides in perfect formation.
My birds, my sisters, my responsibility.
Fifteen years.
Fifteen fucking years since we tore down Javier’s empire, and today, we’re completing the final piece of that victory.
Today, Valerie comes home.
I glance in my mirrors and catch sight of Nighthawk riding point behind me, her red hair whipping from beneath her helmet.
At thirty-eight, she’s become everything I hoped she’d be when I was eight years old and watched her choose our family over the Cartel.
My wise one, my mentor, the woman who taught me that leadership isn’t about being the toughest, it’s about being smart enough to know when to fight and when to protect.
To my left, the rumble of LA Defiance mingles with ours as Dad leads his brothers alongside us. His hair is now more silver, lines carved deeper around his eyes from years of leading, loving, and losing. But the way he sits on his bike, the authority in his posture, some things never change.
He’s still the ‘Alpha’ who saved me, who let me become who I was meant to be.
Even if it scared the shit out of him at the time.
Haven rides behind him, her black hair streaming like a banner.
She’s traded her assassin’s blade for a wedding ring, but the predatory grace never left her movements.
She’s watching the perimeter, always watching, always protecting—my stepmother, who became my sister, my teacher, my friend.
The woman who taught me that strength comes in many forms, and love is the fiercest weapon of all.
The prison looms ahead, its concrete walls no longer holding the terror they once did. We’ve spent fifteen years dismantling what Javier built, piece by piece, woman by woman.
The underground breeding facilities—gone.
The network of corrupt officials—exposed and imprisoned.
The pipeline of stolen children turned into weapons—burned to ash.
I slow my bike further as we approach the designated meeting area, my heart hammering against my ribs in a rhythm that matches the Harley’s engine.
This isn’t just another club run.
This is history completing its circle.
With the wind slowing in my face as I come almost to a stop, I spot Montana’s truck already parked near the visitor entrance.
He’s standing beside it, thirty-seven years old now, his once-boyish face weathered by years of marriage, fatherhood, and the weight of watching his mother serve time for crimes she honestly should never have been put away for.
Rhyan stands beside him, her hand resting on the shoulder of their eldest, Nathan, named after Nathan’s Famous Hot Dogs from that trip to New York that sealed their love. At eleven, he has his father’s determined jaw and his mother’s gentle eyes.
Seven-year-old Liberty bounces on her toes beside them, all kinetic energy and barely contained excitement.
She’s been asking about Grandma Valerie for months, ever since they told her today was the day.
The New York theme for their kids always makes me smile.
It’s a testament to the love they found when they visited New York in honor of Valerie.
Back before they even realized they were falling for each other.
I kill my engine and remove my helmet, my blonde hair falling in waves around my shoulders. The wind catches it immediately, and I have to resist the urge to tuck it behind my ears.
Presidents don’t fidget.
Dad taught me that.
I glance around at the rest of my adopted family, standing back as they wait for Valerie’s arrival.
Maverick and Sadie with their fourteen-year-old daughter, Hope.
She’s currently messing around with her Uncle Phoenix.
Those two are like peas in a pod, and I can’t help but smile as Clover rolls her eyes at her husband running around the prison parking lot with his niece like a kid.
“Phoenix, you have far too much energy, you’re making me even more tired than I already am!” Clover groans, rubbing her swollen belly.
Phoenix chuckles while moving to Clover and leans down, kissing her heavily pregnant belly. “When we get back to the clubhouse, I’m gonna run you a bath, rub your feet, and make sure you rest, my beautiful wife. Gotta make sure that baby of mine is taken care of.”
Clover curls up her nose. “Oh, so take care of the baby! He’s all you care about!”
Maverick and Sadie laugh as Phoenix leans up, planting a gentle kiss on Clover’s nose. “Did you miss the part about the bath and the massage?”
Phoenix wraps his arms around Clover, holding her tight, and she melts into him. “Well… fine, but you did this to me, so you can put up with my mood swings.”
Phoenix smiles widely. “I never have to ‘put up’ with you, Reel Girl. Every minute with you is the best part of my day. Mood swings and all.”
Hope makes gagging noises behind them, and everyone chuckles as Clover’s eyes well up. She leans in, kissing him just as Bea arrives late on the scene in her minivan.
Loki smiles, walking toward the van as Dad and the rest of the guys chuckle. “Oh, Jesus, The Brady Bunch has arrived,” Ink calls out, and Loki shoots him a death glare, helping Bea out of the van.
“Hey, baby,” Loki chimes, the brightest smile on his face.
“So sorry I’m late, everyone. I couldn’t find Harmony’s shoe, and Nix decided he needed to play video games instead of getting dressed. Don’t even get me started on Lexi’s arguing with Jason over the bathroom and—”
Loki leans in, pressing his lips to hers, stopping Bea from her stressed rambling while the kids hop out of the van.
“Eww, Daaad! Do you have to do that while I am here? Gross,” the eleven-year-old Lexi drones as she slides out of the van holding her cell in one hand while helping her five-year-old sister, Harmony, out of the van with the other. Then she starts walking toward Hope with a smile on her face.
Jason, their eldest, who they named after Loki’s brother, who died of leukemia, slides out next, helping his mother with the rest of their brood.
Eight-year-old Nix jumps out, his wild hair untamed as he takes off toward Phoenix, just like most of the kids do, and then Jason helps baby Sage into his mother’s arms.
Jason is a good kid. I guess being the eldest child of five kids, he has helped Bea and Loki a great deal. But he is a lot like his father, smart, cunning, but with the kindness of his mother.
He’s going to be someone amazing when he grows into himself.
They all move over with the rest of us.
Haven wraps her arm around Bea, who is bouncing baby Sage on her hip. “You good, Mama?” Haven asks.
Bea lets out a long exhale, smiling. “It’s going to be a great day, I can feel it. I just can’t wait until those gates open, and Valerie comes out. It’s been a fucking long time coming.”
“Bad word, Mama!” Harmony gasps, but Nix, Lexi, and Jason chuckle like they’re used to hearing their mama constantly swear.
Loki grins as Bea shrugs. “Sorry, Harm. God, you’re such a good girl, I swear you’re adopted.”
Everyone bursts out laughing as Harmony’s eyes widen, a look of shock washing over her features. “Shit, no, baby girl. You’re not adopted. Mama was being silly.”
Loki leans down, picking Harmony up into his arms, cuddling her, and chuckling under his breath. “Don’t worry, Harm, Mama’s having one of her crazy days today.”
Bea glares at Loki, but you can tell it’s all in good fun as the rest of us stand around waiting.
Loki glances at me, shaking his head. “You look tense, Poppy. It’s okay to relax a little.”
Dad chuckles, wrapping his arm around Haven. “She’s the president now. Being tense is our thing.”
I try to ease the tension in my shoulders, and I raise my brow at my father. “I learned it from you.”
Haven bursts out laughing. “Touché!”
“But still, we’re all gathering together like this, and though it’s for a good cause, it’s a great opportunity for someone looking to cause a fight to take their advantage,” I murmur, looking out at my sisters.
They all nod in agreement while Dad glances at me with a proud expression crossing his features. “You’re right, we should be keeping our guard up,” he states.
With a simple nod, I wave my hand through the air.
“Form up,” I call to my girls, my voice carrying the authority I’ve earned through blood, sweat, and fifteen years of proving myself worthy of their trust. I may be only three years into my presidency, but they’ve known me ever since Javier’s takedown.
We’ve grown up together, literally, and I have been with them every step of the way through their recovery process of coming out of The Nest.
Training as a bird changes your psyche, no matter how long you’re in training for.
So, I knew, even back then at eight years old, that these women and I were bound to end up doing something together.
I didn’t know I was going to create a subbranch of Defiance, my very own chapter in LA.
But it has been the best fucking decision I ever made.
Not just for me, but for my girls.
Even if it took a shitload of convincing for me to talk Dad into.
After all, I have Daddy wrapped around my little finger.
Even now, when I am twenty-three years old.
Smirking to myself, I turn back to my birds and signal. “Perimeter watch. But stay loose. This is a celebration, not a siege,” I order.