28. Stryker
STRYKER
Ileave Nora downstairs with Eva and the others because the second I step fully into the clubhouse again, reality starts moving too fast to sit still in it.
Women still need placements.
Prospects still need rotating shifts.
The fucking kitchen inventory somehow vanished again because half the rescued girls are finally eating full meals instead of picking at crackers like they expect somebody to take the food away.
And somewhere underneath all of that, my brain keeps circling back toward Nora standing in the middle of the kitchen looking shell-shocked after me, Blade, and Viper kissed her in front of half the club like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Viper falls into step beside me as we head upstairs for our pod while Blade peels off toward the medical room to check on one of the newer girls who was having panic attacks earlier.
Viper shoves open the suite door first. “We should probably prepare ourselves emotionally for the fact those two are absolutely not sleeping apart tonight.”
“They haven’t seen each other in over a week,” I say.
“Exactly.”
He drops backward onto the couch dramatically before scrubbing both hands over his face. He looks exhausted despite trying not to show it. The last week’s been brutal on all of us between Los Angeles, the rescued women, and Nora finally learning the truth.
I move slowly through the suite, checking rooms automatically, while mentally reorganizing space again.
Months ago we knocked down two walls expanding the original leadership suite after Lena started staying with us more permanently.
At the time it felt excessive. Now it already feels too small again.
I stand in the hallway looking toward Lena’s room while mentally calculating whether the storage room across from mine could become another bedroom with enough renovation work.
Paxton would probably want blue walls. The thought hits so naturally I go still for a second.
Viper notices immediately. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Thinking construction thoughts.”
I grunt, because unfortunately he’s right.
“Tell me you’re not mentally building bedrooms already.”
I don’t answer. That’s apparently answer enough.
Viper laughs under his breath before pushing himself upright again. “Jesus Christ. We’re fucked.”
Blade walks back into the suite carrying a plastic container of medical supplies before glancing between both of us. “What’d I miss?”
“Stryker’s already designing a family compound in his head.”
“I’m not.”
Blade studies me for half a second too long. “You absolutely are.”
I ignore both of them and move toward Lena’s room instead.
The room already looks lived in now. Books scattered across the desk.
Stuffed animals shoved toward one side of the bed.
Tiny sneakers kicked halfway beneath the dresser.
There are new sign language flashcards taped along one wall because Lena decided learning faster requires “visual immersion,” whatever the hell that means.
Viper appears in the doorway behind me. “We should probably remake the bed.”
“They’re kids,” I say. “They’ll fit.”
“They move like drunk octopuses in their sleep.”
Blade snorts quietly while opening the linen closet. “He’s right.”
Within minutes all three of us fall into motion automatically.
Blade grabs extra blankets and reorganizes pillows.
Viper disappears into his room, returning with one of the absurdly oversized comforters from his bed because apparently he thinks five-year-olds require luxury accommodations.
I strip Lena’s bed and remake it tighter because she kicks blankets loose constantly.
Nobody discusses why we’re doing any of this. We just do it.
Because somewhere downstairs Nora and Paxton exist inside our space now and every instinct in me has already shifted toward making room for them.
Viper leans against the doorway watching me tuck hospital corners into Lena’s sheets. “You know what’s really insane?”
“What?”
“You’re domestic as fuck.”
Blade actually laughs.
I glare at both of them. “Shut up.”
But there isn’t much heat behind it. Truth is, every decision we’ve made lately revolves around Nora and the kids whether we admit it outright or not.
I move toward Viper’s room next because if Nora does stay in our pod tonight, realistically this room makes the most sense.
Years ago, Viper bought an Alaskan king mattress simply because he claimed sleep quality mattered for emotional wellness.
At the time, all of us mocked him relentlessly for it.
Now the giant bed takes up almost half the damn room. Useful eventually, unfortunately.
Blade starts straightening blankets while I check drawers for space. Nora barely brought anything with her from the house besides essentials. Most of her clothes are still packed downstairs waiting for somebody to decide where exactly she’s staying.
The fact that my brain immediately categorizes her as staying instead of visiting probably says something too.
Viper watches me reorganize space near the dresser before speaking quieter this time. “You think she’ll stay here tonight?”
I pause.
“No.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Me neither.”
Blade folds another blanket slowly before leaning against the bedframe. “She’s adjusting to too much at once.”
I nod once.
Viper sprawls backward across the massive bed with a groan. “Still hate it.”
“You hate everything.”
“I specifically hate emotional patience.”
Blade looks faintly amused. “You’re handling it better than expected.”
“That’s because I’m evolving.”
“You’re not evolving.”
“Rude.”
Despite everything, the conversation stays easy.
That’s another thing Nora still doesn’t fully understand about us yet.
There’s never been competition between me, Blade, and Viper where she’s concerned because we figured out a long time ago how this works.
If one of us loves something, the others protect it too, and somewhere along the way Nora and Paxton crossed into that territory completely.
I move toward my own room next while the others trail behind me. Compared to Viper’s room, mine stays simpler. Cleaner. Functional. But I still find myself pulling extra blankets from the closet anyway.
Just in case.
Viper notices immediately. “See? Nesting.”
“I’m preparing options.”
“That’s called nesting with leadership vocabulary.”
Blade sits on the edge of my bed checking one of the extra flashlights we keep charging beside the nightstand.
Even now, even here, the war stays threaded through everything.
Guns remain hidden throughout the suite.
Emergency routes already mapped. Men rotating security downstairs twenty-four hours a day.
But somehow all three of us are standing here discussing blankets and children instead. The contrast feels almost surreal sometimes. A knock sounds lightly against the suite door downstairs before Lena’s voice carries upward.
“Dad!”
Viper pushes upright immediately. “There’s our tiny dictator.”
Seconds later both kids come barreling into the pod ahead of Nora. Paxton spots the remade bed first and gasps dramatically enough that even Blade laughs under his breath.
You fixed it!
“Course we did,” Viper says, signing badly enough that Paxton immediately starts grinning.
Your signs are messy.
“Rude.”
Lena drops onto her bed beside the mountain of blankets happily. “Can we sleep together tonight?”
“Yes,” me and Nora answer simultaneously.
We both glance at each other afterward. Something soft flickers briefly across her expression before she looks away first. God. Seeing her here upstairs inside our space does something unsettling to me.
She stands there holding Paxton’s overnight bag against her hip while watching both kids crawl across Lena’s bed arguing over stuffed animals through rapid sign language and messy finger spelling.
Her hair’s partially falling from the clip she twisted it into downstairs.
She still looks emotionally overloaded from the last several days, but lighter than she did this morning.
Safer maybe.
And I realize suddenly that the clubhouse itself is relaxing her despite everything she learned about us. That matters more than she probably understands. The rest of the evening slips into routine almost accidentally after that.
Dinner gets passed around upstairs because half the downstairs tables are occupied by rescued women and volunteers sorting donations.
Somebody puts on a movie in the common area for the younger kids.
At one point Isa wanders through wearing one of Reye’s hoodies while carrying enough folded laundry to collapse under it.
Paxton ends up sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Viper building dinosaurs out of magnetic blocks while Lena aggressively corrects everyone’s sign language.
Blade handles medication rounds midway through the evening automatically. He checks bruises on one rescued woman. Helps another with antibiotics. Makes sure Lena actually takes her nightly vitamins instead of hiding them in orange juice like last time.
Watching him move through all of it settles something in me again because this is who we are despite the violence. Protectors first, even if the methods get ugly.
Bedtime creeps up slowly.
Nora stands in the bathroom doorway helping Paxton brush his teeth while Lena chatters beside her nonstop about school gossip I barely understand. Paxton signs something too fast while toothpaste dribbles down his chin and Nora immediately wipes it away without interrupting the conversation.
Viper sprawls across the hallway floor nearby helping Paxton choose books for bedtime while pretending very seriously to reject any story without dinosaurs.
“Absolutely not,” he says. “That rabbit looks emotionally suspicious.”
Paxton nearly falls over laughing.
Blade passes by carrying folded pajamas for Lena before pausing beside me quietly. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He studies me anyway because he knows me too well.
Then softer, “Feels different tonight.”
It does.
Eventually everybody settles into Lena’s room because both kids insist on a bedtime story together. Nora sits beside the bed cross-legged while Paxton curls against her hip beneath blankets. Lena lays upside down across the mattress because apparently gravity means nothing to children.
Viper hands me the dinosaur book with exaggerated solemnity. “Do the voices.”
“I’m not doing voices.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m not.”
“Coward.”
Nora laughs quietly before covering it with her hand like the sound surprised even her. The noise settles low in my chest immediately. So I read the damn dinosaur book, and somewhere around page six, I realize Nora’s watching me more than the story. I keep reading anyway.
Blade eventually takes over halfway through with calmer voices and slower pacing that practically sedates the entire room.
By the end, Lena’s already asleep sideways across the bed while Paxton fights blinking hard enough to stay awake another thirty seconds.
He loses. Nora gently brushes curls back from his forehead while staring at him with that same fierce softness she always gets around him.
Then her expression shifts slightly while looking around the room. At all of us.
I know the exact second emotion catches up to her because she goes very still.
Viper notices too. So does Blade. Nobody says anything about it.
Eventually we all drift quietly back into the hallway, leaving both kids asleep tangled together beneath blankets.
Then comes the awkward part. Nora stands near the suite entrance holding her own overnight bag loosely while all three of us pretend not to visibly wait for what she’ll decide.
Viper breaks first. “For the record, sweetheart, nobody’s pressuring you into anything tonight.”
“I know.”
“You can take any room you want,” Blade adds gently. “Or we can rearrange again.”
Nora exhales slowly before glancing between all three of us. “I think I should probably sleep alone tonight.”
Disappointment hits instantly, despite expecting exactly that.
Still, none of us argue.
“Okay,” I say simply.
Relief flickers briefly across her face at how easily we accept it.
Blade moves first helping carry her bag toward one of the guest rooms we cleared upstairs earlier. Viper grabs extra blankets without being asked. I check the window locks automatically before stepping back again.
The room itself is simple, but comfortable enough. Nora stands near the doorway afterward looking strangely uncertain all over again. Then, before any of us can speak, she steps toward Blade first and kisses him softly goodnight.
Blade goes visibly still for half a second afterward. She does the same thing to Viper next, then finally me. Her mouth brushes mine carefully enough that it feels almost shy.
“Goodnight,” she says quietly.
“Night, babygirl.”
Heat flashes briefly across her face at the nickname before she disappears into the room. I just stare at the closed door for a second longer than necessary.
For the first time since we built the Savage Wolves from nothing, this place feels less like somewhere we fight from and more like somewhere worth coming home to.