Epilogue #2
The instant the cold fluid hits her skin, Nora's entire body goes rigid. Her shoulders lock against the vinyl table, her jaw tightening until the muscles in her neck stand out like wires. Her eyes roll toward the ceiling, wide and unblinking.
I know that look and stillness. I know she is back under the yellow plastic curtain in Houston, waiting for the silence that broke her life years ago.
Before she can even look for my hand, I move. I step into the tight space between the machine and the table. I slide my grease-stained fingers between hers, locking our palms together. I press down, letting her feel my presence.
"Look at me, Nora," I say, keeping my voice low. "Look right here at my face."
Her head stays turned toward the wall, her teeth digging into her lower lip until a tiny drop of red appears.
"I'm right here," I murmur, leaning closer until my breath stirs the loose strands of her red hair. "You are safe. I've got you."
The technician presses the plastic transducer into the gel, sliding the smooth surface across Nora's skin. The gray monitor flickers to life, throwing a pale, shifting shadow across our faces.
Suddenly, the technician stops moving her hand. She stares at the monitor, her brow furrowing into a deep line, and lets out a sharp, sudden intake of air through her teeth.
My muscles lock, and Nora’s fingers instantly clamp down on my hand, her nails digging deep into my knuckles with terrifying strength.
"What is it?" I growl. "What's the problem?"
Nora’s voice is a breathless whisper against the paper sheet. "Is something wrong?"
Lily steps closer to the table, her eyes widening as she tracks the gray shadows on the screen. She leans over the technician's shoulder, her hand gripping the edge of the console. "Wait... is that screen really showing what I think it's showing?"
The technician looks up from the monitor, her gaze moving from Nora's pale face to my tight jaw. She gives Lily a slow nod.
She turns the screen toward us, pointing a finger at three distinct, dark circles nestled within the gray shadows.
"There are three," the technician says.
I stare at the plastic screen. My brain stalls out completely, the words refusing to form. "Three?"
Nora lets out a low sound from the back of her throat before she breaks. The tears spill down the corner of her eyes in a sudden rush, her entire body shaking as a violent, heaving sob moves her shoulders against the paper.
I drop my head, pressing my forehead flat against hers, my nose brushing her wet skin. I bring my left hand up, my large fingers framing her jaw, cupping her face, holding her steady against the shaking of the table.
"Baby… they are real," I tell her thickly. "This is happening."
She reaches up, placing her wet palms directly over my knuckles, her fingers squeezing hard. She draws in a long, ragged breath, her eyes finally turning toward the gray monitor.
"Can we... Can I hear the heartbeat?" she asks.
The technician nods, her fingers typing a rapid command into the keyboard.
She adjusts a black dial on the console, and a sudden, booming sound fills the small room. It's like a rapid, overlapping thunder, and I can hear three distinct, lightning-fast thuds racing together through the speakers.
Thump-thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump.
Nora cries harder, the sound of her tears mixing with the noise of the machine. I stare at those flashing pixels on the screen, a sudden, blinding awe casing through my chest, expanding until my ribs ache from the pressure.
Nora turns her face toward my palm, her wet blue eyes searching mine. "You want them?"
I blink, the sheer absurdity of the question striking me into silence. "What do you mean, I want them?"
"You want us to keep them?" she whispers, her throat working.
My fingers tighten on her jaw, my voice dropping into a fierce, low growl that leaves no room for doubt. "You and them are all mine, Nora. Nobody is taking you away from me. Ever. Understand?"
She lets out another sob. "I thought..."
"You think because we aren't married, I wouldn't want them?" I cut her off.
Nora's eyes go wide, her blinking slowing down as she stares at me. "Married?"
I let go of her face, my arms moving in a wide, helpless gesture that takes in the dim clinic room, the ultrasound machine, and everyone standing inside it.
"We already said yes to each other," I say. "Out at the dock. Nothing changed today except we found out our family's bigger than we thought."
Nora stares at me, the tears still wet on her cheeks, but a tiny, familiar spark of fire returns to her eyes.
"So that's a yes to all three of them too?"
I look at the monitor.
"That was never the question."
She lets out a wet, breathless laugh, her mouth curving into a small smile.
"Pretty sure that's still the least romantic thing anyone's ever said to me, Rowe."
My mouth twitches.
"I don't ask twice."
She laughs through another tear.
"I know."
"I already have Gran's blessing," I say. "Getting your father's won't be too hard."
Lily clears her throat from the corner of the room, a wide, satisfied smile breaking across her face. "Jax, you might want to step out for a minute while we clean Nora up and get her off the table."
I grip Nora's hand one last time, my boots glued to the floor tiles. I don't want to leave the side of the table.
Nora pushes gently against my forearm, her palm warm. "Go. I'm fine, Jax. Go outside."
I nod before turning to pull the heavy electronic door open. I step into the bright, fluorescent corridor, the door clicks shut behind my back, and I take one step before stopping.
Reed, Rafe, Priest, Knox, and Colt are standing against the opposite wall, and I realize they have followed me down here.
Rafe jumps forward first, slamming a heavy palm against my leather vest. "Look at the size of him! He looks like he just took a ball-peen hammer to the forehead!"
Knox just looks at me, his arms crossed. "Guess you're finally outnumbered."
Colt lets out a low whistle. "Hope that shop's got room for three cribs."
Priest looks at me for a long beat before a slow grin finally reaches his face. "About damn time, brother."
The men crowd into my space, their rough laughter, curses, and heavy palms smacking my back until the hallway echoes.
I handle the weight, my jaw setting as I look at each of them. "Husband first. We're getting married."
The men hoot, their heavy work boots stomping the linoleum floor.
Then Reed steps forward. He stands directly in front of me, his eyes steady, and holds up three fingers in the middle of the hallway.
I stare at his hand. "Get out of here, Reed."
Reed's grin spreads slowly and wide across his face. "Your life is about to become beautifully chaotic, brother."
I stand in the center of the corridor, the sound of those three rapid, thundering heartbeats still echoing inside my skull. I think of the forty-seven acres, the waystation shed, and the house down the road that we are going to fill.
I give Reed a single, solid nod."I wouldn't have it any other way," I say.
Nobody says anything else. They just look at me — five men who've bled for this town and for each other, and grin, one after another, like a current passing down the line.
I look past Reed's shoulder, my eyes fixing on the brass handle of the door where Nora waits.
The guys keep talking, their heavy laughter echoing down the corridor, but the sound slips away into nothing.
Let the chaos come.
I have spent my whole life drawing boundaries, welding iron frames, and fighting to keep the world from crossing the line. But the dirt down here in Moonrise is stubborn. It takes a lifetime of sweat to clear the brush, to break the ground, and to make anything stick to it.
Listening to that deep, overlapping rhythm still humming inside my chest, I look at that wooden door. Everything worth protecting is right on the other side of it, and I finally know exactly what I am building.
____
The full moon is up by the time he gets to the clearing, laying a flat silver line across the river.
Jax kneels where the bluebonnets have spread past the old line, finds the spot beside them, and sets Margaret's stone into the dirt with both hands, the same care he'd use checking a weld before he trusted it to hold weight.
He doesn't say much. He never has.
Twenty-five years she had him. Eleven minutes is all Clara got. He's thought about that math more than once since Nora told him, and it never balances, and somehow that's exactly why he's here.
His thumb drags once across the stone, rough under his palm.
"Thought she should meet you."
The words come out low, more breath than voice. He looks at the bluebonnets a moment longer, then back at the stone.
Behind him, the porch light is on. He can hear it, faintly, through the trees, the house full instead of the clearing.
He stands, brushes the dirt from his knees, and starts walking toward it.
He doesn't look back at the river.
THE END
You've reached the end of the Moonrise Bad Boys.
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