18. Stud
Chapter eighteen
Stud
This right here is the moment I’ve been waiting for since the news dropped.
Everything I’ve been through has led up to this.
Earlier, I had the chance to meet the little guy, my grandson, and he seemed to gravitate toward me instantly.
Maybe it’s because his dad and I share the same rough edges and look damn near identical, or maybe he just sensed something familiar in me.
Holy shit, I really am a grandfather. The realization keeps hitting me in waves, each heavier than the last. I’m settled deep into the old recliner, propped up on the side that didn’t get riddled with bullets, careful not to jostle the scars too much.
Fijor, tiny and innocent, is tucked in against me, completely knocked out, his breathing steady and soft.
The club’s energy pulses around us, music and laughter, the brothers moving back and forth, but in this space, everything falls quiet.
Beaver’s perched at my feet in a folding chair, arms crossed tight, his expression torn between pure happiness and that goofy, contented grin he wears when everything feels right. Despite the festivities swirling through the clubhouse, nobody dares to break this bubble.
My brothers, loyal as ever, pass by with subtle nods, winks, or gentle smiles, showing respect for what this day means to me.
They get it. Today has been monumental. I woke from a damn coma, clawed my way out of the hospital, met my micro-preemie daughter for the first time, and now I’m here, holding my grandson.
Life threw me into the fire, but tonight I’m victorious.
Can’t a man get a few days of shut-eye in peace without his world flipping upside down?
My boy is finally settling down with a damn good ol’ lady.
I have Allie and our two kids now. Harley has been glued to my side, reminding me of how she used to follow me everywhere as a little girl.
Can’t say I mind what I’ve woken up to, for the most part.
I just wish Nix were home with us. I let myself relax for a moment, breathing in the scene, a rare calm amid the storm brewing around us.
No doubt, nearly dying has both sharpened and softened me.
The gravity of what I might never have witnessed in life weighs heavily; every moment feels precious, and the people around me matter more than ever.
I’m torn between the joy of watching my family grow and the pressure of knowing I have a club to lead while at War.
Even though I just woke from a coma, it’s my job to ensure my family comes out on the other side unscathed.
Bearing the weight of being the national president is a heavy burden—one that demands a ruthless resolve, even when exhaustion threatens to take over.
If life has taught me anything, it’s that when it gives you sunshine, a bird might shit on your chest. If this life chooses to test me again, I'll stand my ground, battered yet unbroken, prepared to keep fighting for those I care about and for what this club represents. I’ll die protecting it, with a . 45 gun tucked in my hand.
I hear my children whispering softly behind me, their voices brimming with excitement and a touch of nervousness as they talk about how overwhelming it must be for me—meeting my new daughter and grandson in one day.
I turn my attention to the moment and gently brush Fijor’s dark hair from his eyes.
They have no fucking idea, but it feels like my life has been flipped upside down in the best possible way.
Right now, all my kids are okay. I have a grandson.
The clubhouse remains strong. I have brotherhood and the love of a good woman.
I watched my parents become great-grandparents today. What more could a man ask for?
Cole barges into their whisper fest. “I became a big brother and an uncle in one day or some shit too. I’m doing alright. Not that anyone asked me.”
Harley lets out a chuckle of mock astonishment. “Cole! Language!” she scolds him. “Mom and Dad are going to be pissed when they hear all the colorful words you picked up in two weeks on my watch.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
I dart my eyes around to make sure Allie is still in the kitchen and didn’t overhear Cole.
This might actually work in my favor. Honestly, he dropped his first F-bomb a few months ago while playing pool with the brothers, and I bribed him with twenty not to tell his mom or let her hear him talk like that.
Maybe I can blame Harley and save my ass from being in the doghouse.
Speaking of which, I need to find Tiny and collect my winnings from the betting pool on whether Nix would be a boy or a girl.
“I told you you were going to like being a grandpa.” Beaver speaks in a low voice, so only I can hear him. My eyes snap to his.
“You knew?” I ask, though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
“I had my suspicions. I mean, come on, he looks just like Trey did at that age. I didn’t want to push her.
” He grimaces. “The older Fijor got, the more I knew. I tried to get Gator to ride up there with me a few times, but he wouldn’t go for it.
I didn’t want to push them into anything.
I know keeping this from you was wrong. That’s why I always shared the pictures and stories about what he was up to with you. ”
I clear my throat, trying to clear the emotion that has settled there. “Seems like it’s all working out alright.”
Beaver tightens his lips into a soft grin. “Crazy to think we’re grandparents together, though. Our kids had a kid together. You’ve been my best friend all my life. I guess I’m trying to say I’m happy you’re home and that we get to experience this together from now on.”
“Me too, brother.” He’s right, we have damn near done everything in life together, sharing every triumph and struggle along the way.
The day’s weight presses hard on my shoulders, but hell if I don’t feel lighter than I have in years.
The world’s a mess outside, but tonight, in this room, in the thick of the laughter and the bullshit that still surrounds us, I’m happy.
But there’s no time to sit on it. We need to get our asses to the table, get down to business, and figure out how we're going to handle this war with the Devils Riders. Fury won’t be lying in wait much longer, of that I am sure, especially when word gets back to him that I’m back at the head of the table. “Round up the men. Church in ten.”
Beaver stands and makes his way around the bar to spread the word.
Gator walks up and rests his hand on top of mine, which rests on Fijor’s back.
“Nana is going to take him home with them for the night.” I nod to let him know I heard.
I turn my hand and grasp his large one. I remember when his hand wrapped around my pinky.
I look up at his face and see him watching the movement my hand made.
I squeeze his hand. “Look at me, son.” His eyes snap to mine.
He looks happier than I have ever seen him, and my heart swells even more.
That’s all a parent ever wants for their kids, to be happy in life.
But I see the worry in his eyes. “I’m proud of the man you have become.
You did well leading the club in my absence.
I know what you had to do for our family and the choices you had to make.
When the day comes for me to pass the gavel, just as my father did, you will make a strong president. I love you, boy.”
His lips tighten, and I know he’s maintaining composure. “I love you too, old man.”
***
“We are at war now, men. Snake going after one of ours started that.” We all knew things had been tense for a while.
I made the mistake of letting them operate in the state.
Fury has been like a bad itch that you just can’t seem to scratch for years now.
Annoying and relentless. Between peddling drugs and women through my state and getting that little rat Butch under his thumb, it seemed his next logical step would have been to try to come for my territory.
But that’s where he fucked up. I own this state, and I’ll be damned in hell before I let anyone take it from me.
To be honest, even then I would be fighting the reaper personally for a chance to come back and haunt my enemies.
“No one goes anywhere alone. Period. I want full colors flown everywhere we go. Make a show of force. Any Rider is dead on the spot. Make sure the women are armed at all times.” Fury made it clear during the Snake attack on Emma that they are willing to use our families against us.
“We keep the wagons circled around our family. I want constant surveillance around town. I want two men riding day and night.” For the next hour, we discuss strategy and ways to keep this war from landing on our doorstep, literally.