Chapter Fifteen #2
Kane took a breath. “This club took me in when I struggled to find purpose,” he said. “I built a family, finally earned my patch. I thought that was all I’d ever need. Then Jade rolled up to our gate bleeding and pissed off and more stubborn than anyone I’ve ever met, and the world got bigger.”
A low sound rolled through the room. Agreement. Teasing. Something warm.
“Nobody asked her to join this war,” he went on.
“The names Diaz and Roth meant nothing until they became her nightmare. Yet when it mattered, Jade stepped up. Jason’s notes became our roadmap because of her patience.
Our kids learned to drill under her watch.
While we hunted through woods chasing shadows, she guarded home without flinching.
The club never locked down for some random woman.
We stood together because of who Jade proved herself to be. ”
My throat closed.
Kane’s hand found mine again, fingers twining, grip sure.
Kane’s voice dropped to a rougher register.
“Love doesn’t begin to cover what she means to me.
” His hand tightened around mine. “No pretending here -- she deserves better, and mistakes will happen. But this promise stands: she’s mine, I’m hers, and nothing will drag me away.
The question before all of you now is whether she can wear the patch that tells the whole damn world exactly where she belongs. ”
The room went quiet.
All eyes turned to Atilla.
He studied us both for a long moment. “You sure about this, Jade?” he asked.
I swallowed. My voice came out barely above a whisper at first. “Yeah,” I said. I cleared my throat, lifted my chin. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“You know what it means,” he said. Not a warning. A reminder. “This isn’t a necklace you take off when you get tired of the color. This is life. Ours. Yours. His. You wear our name, you wear what comes with it.”
I squared my shoulders. “Might as well make everything official.”
A few men chuckled around the table. Someone muttered, “Damn right.”
Atilla’s eyes gleamed with unmistakable pride as he nodded once. “Marci.”
She rose from her chair against the wall, a folded bundle cradled in her hands.
My heart slammed.
It wasn’t a ring. It was better.
She crossed the room and placed the leather in Atilla’s waiting grip.
He held it out where I could see.
Small cut. My size. Black leather that smelled new and rich. Savage Raptors rocker across the top. The club’s skull in the middle. Kane’s road name, FALCON, stitched small near the front.
And at the bottom, in clean white letters: PROPERTY OF FALCON.
Atilla’s gaze stayed locked on mine. “You sure?” he asked one more time.
I thought about my old apartment. Thin walls. Late notices. Roth’s footsteps in the hall. Then I thought about this place. General teaching me how to read the road by the way the light hit the asphalt. Spade knocking on my door with a new map and tired eyes. Kane’s laughter in the dark.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I said.
Atilla’s mouth curved. “Then welcome home, Jade,” he said.
He flicked his fingers at Kane. “Put it on her.”
My hands shook as Kane took the cut.
He stepped behind me, settling the leather across my shoulders with reverence that made my eyes sting.
Cool, then warm as it molded to my body.
He smoothed his palms down my arms, then stepped back to my side.
“Turn around,” Spade called from the far end of the table. “We gotta see.”
I rolled my eyes and did as he asked.
The weight on my back felt… right.
Like armor.
Like roots.
Applause broke out. Whistles. A couple of catcalls Marci shut down with a hard look.
Kane pulled me in, one arm around my waist. “You’re mine,” he murmured in my ear.
“And you’re mine,” I said.
“Damn right,” he whispered.
Atilla let the noise run for a minute, then rapped his knuckles again. “All right, settle down,” he said. “Diaz is in a cage, Jade’s patched, and Spade’s still uglier than he thinks he is. We’ve got work ahead of us, same as always. But for right now? For this minute? Take the win.”
He looked at me. “You did good, girl,” he said.
Tears spilled over before I could stop them. I didn’t bother wiping them away.
“Thank you,” I said.
* * *
The party started as soon as Church let out.
Nobody called the gathering a celebration.
MC men never used such words without qualifiers -- “victory celebration,” “patch celebration,” “ass-kicking celebration.” Bass thumped from speakers while someone rolled a keg across the floor.
Marci piled nachos high enough to feed every hungry biker in the compound.
The kids woke from naps and ran barefoot through the common room. Their shrieks and laughter echoed off the walls. Casey’s daughter approached me, her eyes fixed on my new leather.
I turned to show her the front when she tapped my arm.
“Does this mean you’ll live here forever?” she asked.
“Pretty much.”
She beamed. “Good. You make better dragons than Knuckles.”
Knuckles clutched his chest in mock offense. “My dragon roar stands unmatched.”
“Yours reminds me of a dying cow,” she informed him, crossing her small arms.
Laughter rumbled through the room while I wandered among the bodies, accepting hugs and handshakes in a stunned haze.
People clapped me on the shoulder. Hugged me. Handed me drinks. Told me welcome in a dozen different ways.
Miss Irene even showed up, hair down for once, wearing a dress that didn’t quite fit the old lady stereotype.
“You skip book club for this?” I asked as she hugged me.
“Damn right,” she said. “Had to see my favorite troublemaker get her colors.”
“You’re going to get me kicked out for language,” I said.
“Please,” she sniffed. “I taught half these boys to swear properly.”
We laughed.
Later, I slipped outside.
The air felt cooler on my flushed skin.
The yard stretched out, familiar and strange with this new weight on my back.
I heard Kane walk up. He stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets, gaze on my face. Then it dropped to my chest. My shoulders. My back.
“I like the view,” he said.
“You’ve been staring at me nonstop for two hours,” I said. “You’re going to sprain something.”
“Worth it,” he said.
He joined me at the fence, shoulder brushing mine. We stood there a while, watching the sun bleed down toward the trees.
“Hanley called Spade this afternoon,” Kane said after a bit.
“Oh?” I asked. “You listening at doors again?”
“Spade was yelling on speaker,” he said. “Hard not to.”
“Good yelling or bad yelling?” I asked.
Kane nodded. “Hanley called to thank us for anonymous files which ‘fell’ into his inbox. Maps he ‘happened’ to receive on his desk. The detective remains unaware of who stands behind these gifts.”
“Do you believe he suspects?” I twisted a loose thread on my cut.
Kane shrugged one shoulder, his eyes meeting mine. “Perhaps. A smart man would avoid digging too deep. He received what he needed.” A smile crept across his face. “And so did we.”
He nudged my shoulder. “Diaz is going to be tied up in court for a long time. He’ll be busy trying to weasel out of charges instead of plotting new routes.”
“Good,” I said.
“Hanley asked about you,” he said.
My heart stuttered. “What?” I asked.
“Not by name,” he said quickly. “He asked if the ‘source’ was safe. Spade told him yeah. No details. Just… yeah. Hanley said to tell whoever it was that sometimes justice takes the scenic route, but it still arrives.”
Tears pricked my eyes again.
“Scenic route, my ass,” I said. “Took the whole damn interstate system.”
Kane chuckled.
I exhaled. “You ever think about leaving?”
He looked at me. “Leaving what?”
I swept my hand across our surroundings. “All of it. Our club. This town. Everything we’ve built. Diaz sits behind bars now. But there will always be another bad guy. And I get the feeling the club will be involved in taking them down.”
Kane leaned his elbows against rough fence wood, eyes fixed on distant trees.
“Maybe the first few months,” he said. “Before I had anything worth staying for. Back when I still thought running solved problems instead of packing them in your trunk with you.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“You,” he said simply.
Heat flooded my face. “You say that like I’m the center of your universe,” I muttered.
“You are,” he said.
“Unhealthy,” I said.
“Probably,” he agreed. “Don’t care.”
He turned, caging me between his arms and the fence. Not trapping. Just… surrounding.
“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here,” Kane said. “With this patch. These people. You. Drag me to another state for vacation sometime if you want but home exists in this clubhouse and Miss Irene giving me late fees when I return books on time.”
I laughed through the tears welling in my eyes.
“Perfect,” I said. “Because I never want to leave either.”
Kane pressed his lips against mine. The kiss began soft, gentle. Then he deepened it.
Home. That’s what Kane was to me.
When he pulled back, his eyes were darker. “You know what I keep thinking?”
“What?” I asked.
“We met because a man tried to own you,” he said. “We stayed because we chose each other. Diaz is caged. Victor’s in a jumpsuit. Roth’s a body in the dirt.”
I let my fingers curl in the front of his cut.
“You think it’s ever going to feel normal?” I asked. “Not checking the windows twice. Not jumping when the gate buzzes.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. Normal’s overrated. I’ll take safer. I’ll take happier. I’ll take you in my bed and kids running barefoot through the yard and Spade yelling at his laptop instead of at you.”
“You love Spade,” I said.
“Shut up,” he replied.
I laughed, the sound ringing easier than it had in a long time.
Voices floated from the clubhouse behind us. Music. Laughter. Somebody whooped as if they’d just won a hand of cards.
Life. Loud and messy and ours.
I looked down at my cut.
Savage Raptors MC.
Property of Falcon.
“Come on,” Kane said, tugging me gently back toward the door. “If we stay out here any longer, Marci’s going to assume we’re making out and send a kid to interrupt on purpose.”
“She would,” I said.
“She will,” he corrected.
We walked back in together.
General raised a beer in our direction.
Spade waved his tablet in the air, shouting about “phase two” and “cleanup ops” I’d hear about later when my chest didn’t feel ready to burst.
Casey caught my eye across the room and gave me a single nod. I saw everything in her expression -- pride, gratitude, a silent understanding between us.
“Aunt Jade!” Riley crashed into my leg with the force of a tiny meteor. “Knuckles promised you can pick the movie tonight because you earned your vest.”
“Is that right?” I asked.
Knuckles pretended offense from the couch. “I said I would tolerate her pick,” he said. “There’s a difference.”
“We’re watching cartoons,” I told him.
He groaned.
“Diaz went down,” I said. “I get animated dragons.”
Kane laughed, low and warm beside me.
I bent and scooped Riley up onto my hip. “Dragons it is,” I said.
The war wasn’t over, not really. There would always be another Diaz somewhere. Another war. But this battle? We’d won.
I wasn’t running anymore. I wasn’t hiding.
I was standing in the middle of my chosen family with leather on my shoulders and Kane’s hand in mine and a future that looked messy and loud and hard and beautiful.
Mine.
Ours.
Chosen.