29. Nora
NORA
It’s evening on the third night I’ve stayed at the clubhouse, and for some reason, things seem louder than usual.
Somebody’s repairing pipes downstairs. Music drifts from the garage area.
Multiple children sprint through the hallways carrying blankets because apparently tonight has become “movie fort night” according to Lena.
I stand in the suite bathroom brushing Paxton’s teeth later while Lena leans dramatically against the counter supervising.
Open bigger, I sign to him.
He deliberately opens his mouth as wide as physically possible.
Lena nods approvingly. “Excellent.”
I laugh softly despite myself.
Six years.
Six years of carrying everything alone and suddenly bedtime involves four adults and two children crowded around one sink arguing about toothpaste.
The emotional whiplash still hasn’t fully settled.
After pajamas and story time, Stryker ends up reading to both kids while Viper sprawls across the rug pretending not to enjoy listening. Blade sits beside the bed helping Paxton work through a few newer signs slowly and patiently.
I stay near the doorway watching them longer than I mean to.
Eventually both children fall asleep tangled together again beneath blankets while Lena’s stuffed rabbit hangs halfway off the mattress.
Paxton’s hand remains loosely curled into the sleeve of her pajama shirt like even asleep he wants proof she’s nearby.
Blade quietly adjusts the blankets higher around them before standing.
“We should probably let them stay asleep before movie fort night becomes movie pneumonia,” Viper whispers.
Stryker snorts softly.
The four of us drift back into the hallway afterward, quieter than before. The suite lights stay low while voices from farther downstairs echo faintly upward through the building.
This is usually where the night separates. Goodnight kisses. Careful restraint. Everybody pretending patience comes easily.
Stryker starts stepping back toward the hallway first. “You should get some sleep, babygirl.”
“You can stay.”
All three men stop moving.
Heat floods my face almost instantly.
I cross my arms loosely against myself before adding awkwardly, “If you want. I just—” I laugh once under my breath. “That bed is honestly ridiculous when I’m alone in it.”
Silence.
Then Viper grins slowly. “Sweetheart, are you inviting us into your bed?”
I glare at him automatically, even while blushing harder. “You’re making this worse.”
“Probably.”
Blade’s expression softens immediately though. “You sure?”
I nod slowly. “Positive.”
Stryker studies me for another second before stepping closer again. “Okay.”
I sit near the edge of the mattress first while twisting my fingers together loosely in my lap. For a second nobody speaks.
Then Viper settles beside me carefully enough that our shoulders touch. “You look nervous.”
“I am nervous.”
“About us being here?”
I exhale slowly. “About all of it.”
Blade sits across from me while Stryker remains standing near the dresser watching me with that same steady unreadable focus that always makes me feel too seen.
“I spent six years controlling every part of my life,” I admit quietly. “Everything had schedules. Backup plans. Budgets. Rules.” I shake my head slightly. “And now, suddenly, I’m here living in a biker clubhouse with three men and my son thinks this is completely normal.”
“Probably because it is normal to him now,” Blade says gently.
He’s right. Paxton adapted before I did. Maybe because children recognize love faster than adults complicate it.
I stare down at my hands for another second before speaking again, softer this time.
“I’m scared of needing people this much.
I forgot what it felt like not carrying everything alone,” I admit.
“And now, every time one of you leaves for club business or disappears for two days I…” I stop briefly, frustrated with myself. “I notice it immediately.”
Viper’s expression changes slightly beside me.
Stryker finally moves closer then, stopping directly in front of where I sit on the bed. “Babygirl.”
The nickname alone nearly undoes me.
“I know,” he says quietly. “We do too.”
Something painful twists in my chest because I believe him. That’s the terrifying part. I glance between all three of them afterward before forcing myself to say the thing I’ve been circling around internally for days now.
“I don’t think I want this temporarily.”
The room goes very still.
“I think…” My throat tightens slightly before I push through it anyway. “I think I want all of you permanently.”
Nobody speaks immediately. Blade’s eyes close briefly like the words physically hit him somewhere. Viper stares at me openly now without his usual teasing shield in place.
Stryker crouches slowly in front of me until we’re eye level.
“You sure?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
I swallow once before continuing. “Watching the other women here helped, honestly.” I glance down briefly. “Nobody acts like loving more than one person is wrong here.”
“Because it isn’t,” Viper says softly.
I nod once. “I know that now.”
Then the hardest part.
I force myself to look directly at Viper first. “I know biology matters to you.”
His entire body stills.
I continue before I lose nerve. “And if you still want answers eventually, we can figure that out. About Paxton.”
Emotion flickers hard across his face before disappearing again under control.
“But I need you to understand something first,” I say quietly. “I genuinely don’t care which one of you is biologically his father anymore, because all three of you already are.”
Viper looks wrecked by that and Blade too honestly. Even Stryker’s composure shifts slightly.
I keep going because stopping now feels impossible. “You all stepped into his life without hesitation. You love him differently, but completely.” My voice softens. “And I don’t think Paxton sees any difference between you anymore either.”
Viper rubs one hand slowly across his mouth before laughing once under his breath like he’s trying not to lose composure entirely. “Sweetheart.”
Blade reaches for my hand first, holding it gently between both of his. “Angel, you already know we’re committed to both of you.”
Stryker nods once beside him. “Permanently.”
My eyes sting unexpectedly, and I immediately look away embarrassed by it.
Viper catches my chin gently before I can fully retreat inward. “Hey.”
I meet his gaze again reluctantly.
“You really think we’d let you go after all this?” he asks softly.
Despite everything, a weak laugh escapes me. “That somehow sounds both romantic and vaguely threatening.”
“It’s both,” Stryker says calmly.
Blade sighs. “You’re both terrible at reassurance.”
“No,” Viper says, still watching me carefully. “We’re honest.”
That honesty matters more than polished promises ever could.
I lean forward before I can overthink it again and kiss Viper first. Slow. Intentional. Real. Then Blade. Then Stryker.
By the time I pull back, the emotional distance between all four of us feels completely gone.
Stryker brushes his thumb lightly along my jaw before speaking low. “Come here, babygirl.”
The softness in his voice nearly destroys me. Viper reaches for my hand at the same time Blade shifts closer beside me and suddenly the room feels smaller in the best possible way.
I realize then that this is the first time in my entire adult life I’ve chosen vulnerability without desperation forcing it first.
But then Blade presses a kiss gently against my temple, while Viper tangles his fingers through mine and Stryker settles one steady hand at the back of my neck. The fear finally loses against the overwhelming certainty underneath it.
Stryker’s thumb traces the line of my jaw again, slow and deliberate. “We’ve got you.”
I believe him.
My hands tremble slightly despite myself and I press one flat against Stryker’s chest just to feel the steady, solid rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm. A grounding point. Proof. He covers my hand with his own, pressing it more firmly against him, an unspoken promise.
Viper’s grip on my other hand tightens just enough to be noticed.
He shifts closer, his thigh pressing against mine, creating a line of heat that seeps through my thin pajama pants.
His gaze is intense, but soft now, the teasing stripped away to reveal the raw emotion underneath.
He leans in and kisses my shoulder, a slow, open-mouthed press of his lips that feels more like an acknowledgment than a prelude to something else.
“You have no idea,” he whispers against my skin, and I know he’s not talking about sex. He’s talking about the last six years. The carrying. The loneliness.
Blade moves behind me, a solid, comforting presence.
He doesn’t crowd me, just settles close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him.
His hands come to rest gently on my hips, not pulling, just holding.
A light, steady pressure that says, I’m here.
He begins to trace slow circles over the fabric of my shirt with his thumbs, a soothing, repetitive motion that makes my breathing deepen and even out.
The combined touch is overwhelming, but not suffocating.
It’s a blanket of security I never knew I craved.
Stryker’s grounding hand at my neck, Viper’s searing kiss on my shoulder, Blade’s calming hold on my hips.
Three different points of contact, three different ways of showing me the same thing: You are not alone anymore.
Stryker moves first, or rather, he guides the movement.
He keeps one hand on my neck, the other sliding down my arm to my wrist. He tugs me gently forward, off the edge of the bed, and I follow without question.
He’s the anchor. The quiet authority in the room, and in this moment, letting him lead feels like the most natural thing in the world.