Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“These things are a scourge on the world,” he muttered, kicking a rogue piece of packing material.
Kath laughed from the other side of the room, where she was attempting to wrangle a bookshelf into the corner.
Her platinum hair was piled messily on top of her head with a pencil stuck through it, and she had a smudge of dust across one cheek.
She looked ridiculously happy, cheeks flushed from effort, eyes bright every time she glanced his way.
“We’ve been at this for two hours, and we still don’t have a single piece of functional furniture. This is why people pay professionals.”
Chase grinned despite himself. “Yeah, well, we’re building character. Or a very wobbly future.”
The knock on the door came like salvation.
Bear filled the doorway when Chase opened it, toolbox in one massive hand and a six-pack of cold beer in the other. Eddie had sent him with a container of her famous cookies too, judging by the smell.
“Heard you two were drowning in Swedish hell,” Bear rumbled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His eyes swept the disaster zone with amused pity. “Figured I’d save you from yourselves before you hurt each other with those itty-bitty wrenches.”
Chase exhaled in pure relief. “You’re a lifesaver, man.”
Bear took one look at the carnage, shook his head, and immediately rolled up his sleeves.
“Step aside, kids.” Within minutes, he had the couch frame behaving, his deep, steady voice calmly directing them like he was overseeing a bike build.
Kath handed him pieces with a grin, and Chase held things still, the three of them falling into an easy rhythm.
The big man moved with the same unflappable confidence he brought to every engine rebuild, turning utter chaos into something that actually resembled furniture.
Half an hour later, Myron showed up unannounced, laptop under one arm and a coil of cables over his shoulder. “Bear said something about ‘those kids are gonna try to stream on public Wi-Fi like heathens.’ Figured I’d save you from terrible buffering.”
Chase grinned as he let the tech wizard in. “Guilty as charged.”
While Bear and Kath tackled the bed frame in the bedroom—Bear’s low chuckles mixing with Kath’s laughter—Myron took over a corner of the living room, muttering about signal strength, mesh networks, and “proper infrastructure” like it was a tactical operation.
The apartment slowly started to feel less like a temporary storage unit and more like home.
Then Hurley rolled up.
The deep rumble of a heavy-duty truck announced him before he even knocked. When Chase opened the door, Hurley was already unhitching a shiny new grill from the trailer behind his truck—top-of-the-line, complete with smoker attachment and more knobs than Chase knew what to do with.
“Housewarming gift,” Hurley announced, clapping Chase on the shoulder hard enough to jolt him. “Can’t have my favorite almost-prospect living off takeout. Lit the charcoal before I left the house, so the ribs are already seasoned and on. Low and slow. Set a timer. They’ll be ready in a few hours.”
Before Chase could properly thank him, more bikes started pulling in.
Brothers showed up in ones and twos—some with six-packs and tool kits, others with nothing but big grins and loud opinions about where the bookshelf should go.
Gifts appeared: a set of heavy cast-iron pans from a group of the old ladies, a framed photo of the band onstage from Slate, a ridiculously large box of condoms and lube from a smirking Ruger (which earned him a swat from Bear and laughter from everyone else).
The small apartment filled fast. Voices boomed off the walls, deep laughter rolled through the rooms, and the mouthwatering smell of Hurley’s ribs drifted through the open windows. It was beautiful, overwhelming chaos. Found family at its loudest and most loving.
Chase caught Kath’s eye across the crowded living room.
She tilted her head towards the bedroom with a mischievous little smile that made his heart flip.
He followed her without hesitation, weaving through the crowd of leather cuts and good-natured ribbing until they slipped into the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind them.
They didn’t stop there.
Kath grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearly empty walk-in closet, sliding the door shut. The space was tight, dark, and still smelled faintly of fresh paint and new carpet. Perfect.
“Think they’ll notice we’re gone?” she whispered, barely containing her grin, her body pressed close to his in the small space.
“They’re already looking,” Chase murmured back, listening to the muffled calls of “Where’d the kids go?” and Bear’s deep chuckle as someone suggested checking the grill again.
They tried to stay quiet. They really did. But when they heard Hurley loudly wondering if they’d “fallen in” while assembling furniture and Ruger suggesting they might be “christening the new place already,” the giggles hit them both at once.
Chase pressed his forehead to the top of her head, shoulders shaking as he fought to keep silent.
Kath’s hands fisted in his shirt, her face buried against his chest as muffled laughter spilled out of her.
Every new ridiculous comment from the living room made it worse until they were both trembling with the effort not to give themselves away.
The giggles finally eased, leaving them breathless and close in the dark. Chase cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. In the thin sliver of light slipping under the closet door, he could just make out the shine in her eyes and the soft curve of her smile.
He leaned in and kissed her—slow, sweet, and full of everything he felt for her. No rush. No audience. Just the two of them in their tiny new closet, in their tiny new life, surrounded by the loud, ridiculous, huge, and perfect family they’d somehow found.
When they finally broke apart, foreheads still touching, Chase whispered against her lips, “Welcome home, Kath.”
She smiled, fingers threading through the hair at the back of his neck. “Welcome home, Chase.”
Outside, the Rebels kept searching and laughing. Inside the closet, the future felt exactly right.
***