Epilogue #2
Temper
"S wollen feet. Swollen fingers. Swollen everything. My back hurts. My ribs feel like they're being attacked by two tiny MMA fighters. I always have to pee. I swear to God, if these two don't calm the fuck down soon, I'm charging them rent," I groan and shift in my chair, trying to find a position that doesn't feel like torture.
Theresa laughs from her chair, legs tucked under her. "They're definitely gonna be troublemakers. Just like their dad."
I narrow my eyes at her. "Oh, there's no doubt about it. He couldn't settle for one baby. Nooo. Had to go full overachiever. Typical." I toss my head back with a sigh, staring up at the sky like maybe my sanity's hiding in the clouds. "He could've half-assed at least one thing in his life. Have a little fucking mercy."
"ALARIC!" Joker's voice booms somewhere in the background as his son takes off across the grass, tiny legs moving like lightning. "GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE MENACE!"
I snort, barely holding back a laugh.
And then — speak of the devil — my giant, infuriating husband strolls out the back door of the clubhouse carrying a glass of lemon water like it's the most important mission of his life. "Here, baby," he says, leaning down to kiss me until my brain short-circuits.
I take the glass with a long-suffering sigh. "You just had to go for twins, huh?" I eye him over the rim, but I can't hold back my smile when he grins at me. "One wasn't enough for you?"
His hand slides over my belly, rubbing lazy circles through the stretched fabric of my dress. The softness in his touch makes me forget my misery. "Baby, you don't really want to know how many kids we would've had by now if it were up to me."
He chuckles, but there's a glint in his eyes — dark, intense. Dangerous. I feel a shiver of warning. If I'm not careful, this man will keep me barefoot and pregnant until I'm fifty.
Before I can throw a pillow at him, Mr. Annoyance butts into the conversation.
"Actually," Mindfuck says, pushing his sunglasses up and walking toward us, "twins are determined by the mother. So, technically, not the Prez's fault."
Bones smirks. "See? Science, baby."
I groan, dropping my head back against the chair. "Ugh. Shut up, you annoying bug."
Adora laughs from the chair beside mine, shaking her head. "She's gonna poison your whiskey one of these days, Mindfuck. Just saying."
"I pray for that day," Ria mutters darkly, stretching like a lazy cat before taking a slow sip from her drink.
Mindfuck just grins, unbothered, and shrugs at Adora like the threat is no big deal. "I can take care of myself."
Then he turns to me and, just like that, his expression shifts. All playfulness wiped clean. Serious.
"We've got something for you, Judge. From all the brothers."
My brows shoot up. Instinctively, I glance at Bones, but he just gives me a shrug, his face unreadable.
Mindfuck presses on. "I see you're wearing your cut — which is perfect." He brings two fingers to his lips and lets out a whistle so sharp it slices through the backyard like a blade.
It's a damn signal. One by one, the brothers appear, summoned like soldiers. I sit up straighter, heart starting to pound. What the fuck is happening?
Fang stomps into view, scowling. "I thought we agreed to do this tomorrow, at the barbecue! You've gone rogue, Mindfuck!"
Mindfuck just smirks. "It's the perfect moment. Why wait?"
Then he turns to me, eyes locking with mine. Steady. Meaningful. "Temperance Brennan...well, Mercer now. Damn, that's a tongue twister if I've ever heard one." He ignores the way my glare sharpens. Bones is gonna slap this man for me. I'll make sure of it.
But he keeps going, voice clear and sure. "You've been part of this club for a long time. You are family . Whether you ride or not, whether you do club business or not, whether you're an Ol’ Lady or not — you're one of us. And we hope you see us the same way."
Then he holds something out to me.
My breath hitches.
It's a patch. It's a patch! It's a fucking patch!
Beautifully stitched across it in bold letters: JUDGE
Mindfuck continues, his tone softer now. "We want to give you an honorary road name. Judge. Our sister. You may not ride a bike or handle club business, but no one — and I mean no one — dishes out petty squabbles punishments like you. Creative, a little terrifying to be honest, and completely fair. And we'd be honored if you'd accept this and wear it on your cut."
I stare at the patch, heart in my throat. My fingers close around it carefully, like it might disappear if I squeeze too hard.
Then I look up — at all of them. One by one. Each brother watching me with a serious face, but behind the stoicism there's something else. Anticipation. Like they're all holding their breath.
"You...you can do that?" My voice cracks. "Give me a road name?" My throat tightens. Fucking hormones. Tears spill over before I can stop them.
Bones wraps an arm around me, pulling me in close. "They asked for permission, baby. And of course they got it," he whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple.
"There's no pressure !" Domino jumps in suddenly, his voice panicked like I'm about to bolt. "If you don't want it, that's totally fine! We won't—"
"I WANT TO!" The words burst out of me, high and desperate, cutting him off before he can finish.
Bones laughs softly, hugging me tighter.
And my grin — holy shit — it's so wide my face aches.
"Go get Mama," Tank barks at Fang. "Tell her to bring her sewing kit."
Ghost steps forward, that rare smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He glances at Bones, then back at me.
"Go easy with your punishments, Judge," he says, teasing.
Then he turns, leaving me clutching the patch like it's the most sacred thing I've ever held.
And he makes his way toward Adora.