Chapter 5 - Wrath
Lucy's head is warm against my shoulder, her hand still under mine. I can't believe I told her about the old man, about running with Crow. I never talk about that shit – not even with my brother, not in years. But something about her makes my walls crumble, just like that night a year ago.
"Why didn't you ever call?" she asks softly, her breath tickling my neck. "After that night?"
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. Truth is, I'd wanted to. God, how I'd wanted to. That night with her had been... different. No expectations, no judgment. Just her soft skin, sweet moans, and those green eyes that seemed to see right through my bullshit.
"Couldn't," I finally say. "The morning after you left, we got word the Outlaws were moving in on our territory. Started a three-month war that nearly destroyed both clubs." I flex my fingers over hers. "By the time things calmed down... felt too late."
She shifts slightly, and I catch a whiff of her shampoo – something floral, delicate. So at odds with the leather and gunpowder smell of the clubhouse.
"Three months," she murmurs. "That's when I found out I was pregnant."
The timing hits me hard. While I was out there fighting, she was discovering she carried my child. My daughter was growing inside her, and I had no fucking clue.
"I should've called anyway," I admit. "Should've..."
Anna's wheeze cuts through the darkness again, and something inside me breaks. All those months I missed. Her first cry, first smile, first word. Gone because of club business, because of violence, because of my fucking pride.
"Hey," Lucy squeezes my hand. "You're here now. That's what matters."
"Yeah." I clear my throat. "And I'm not going anywhere."
She lifts her head from my shoulder, and suddenly we're face to face in the darkness. Those green eyes lock onto mine, and just like that night a year ago, I feel myself drowning in them.
"Promise?" she whispers.
Instead of answering, I find myself leaning closer. Her breath hitches, her lips parting slightly. Just like I remember. Just like that night when—
Anna starts to cry.
We break apart as Lucy scrambles to her feet, but I'm already moving. Three long strides and I'm at the crib, lifting our daughter into my arms.
"Shh, little girl," I murmur, cradling her against my chest. "Daddy's got you."
The word feels strange on my tongue, but right. So fucking right.
Lucy appears at my side, her hand gentle on Anna's back. "She needs her medicine. It's in the blue bag."
I hold Anna while Lucy prepares the nebulizer, our movements awkward but synchronized, like we've been doing this together all along. Like we're a real family.
And watching Lucy tend to our daughter, seeing Anna's tiny hand grip my cut as she breathes in the medicine, I realize something that scares me more than any rival club ever could:
I want this. All of it. Not just being Anna's father, but being with Lucy too. Having them both in my life, in my home, in my heart.
The thought should send me running. Should make me put up those walls I've spent years building.
Instead, I just hold my daughter closer and breathe in the scent of my new reality – baby powder, medicine, and Lucy's floral shampoo.
This is what family feels like. This is what I've been fighting for all along.
"How did you do it?" I ask, watching Anna's breathing even out as the medicine works. "Being a single mother... must've been hard."
Lucy's fingers trail over Anna's dark hair. "I don't know, honestly. Just... took it day by day. Knew I had to be strong for her." She gives a small laugh. "Sarah helped a lot. But my parents..." She pauses, and I remember what she told me that night a year ago – car accident, three years before we met. "I think they'd be proud, though. Of how I handled everything."
"They would be," I say gruffly. "I am."
She looks up at me, surprise in those green eyes. The same eyes that haunted my dreams for months after that night. Her lips part slightly, and God help me, I want to taste them again. Want to know if they're as soft as I remember, if she still makes that little gasp when—
The door bursts open, slamming against the wall. Anna startles awake with a cry, and rage floods my system. I'm already turning, ready to tear apart whatever prospect was stupid enough to—
"Holy shit!" Crow stands in the doorway, his eyes wide, "I'm an uncle?"
"Jesus Christ, brother," I growl, trying to settle Anna. "Ever heard of knocking?"
But Crow isn't listening. He's moving closer, staring at Anna like she's some kind of miracle. Which, I guess, she is.
"She looks just like you," he breathes. "Except, you know, cute."
Despite my anger at him waking her, I feel my lips twitch. "Yeah, well, Angel already said that joke and thank God she got her mother's looks."
Lucy steps forward. "You must be Crow. Wrath's told me... some things."
Crow's eyes snap to her, then back to me. "You told her shit? You never tell anyone shit."
"Language," Lucy and I say simultaneously, then look at each other in surprise.
Crow's grin widens.
"Oh, this is perfect. Wait till I tell Emma – she's gonna love this." He reaches out, letting Anna grab his finger. "Hey there, princess. I'm your Uncle Crow. I'm gonna teach you all sorts of trouble—"
"Like hell you are," I cut him off, but there's no heat in it. Watching my brother with my daughter... it does something to my chest. Something new.
"Does Hellfire know?" Crow asks, still captivated by Anna.
"Not yet. Was gonna tell him in the morning."
"Tell me what?"
We all turn to find Hellfire in the doorway, his massive frame filling it completely. His eyes take in the scene – me holding Anna, Lucy at my side, Crow grinning like an idiot.
"Sir," I start, but Anna chooses that moment to let out a happy gurgle, reaching toward Hellfire with tiny hands.
Something soft passes over our President's face. Something that reminds me of that day he found two scared kids stealing food.
"Well," he says, moving closer. "Looks like Iron & Blood has a new princess."
And just like that, watching these dangerous men melt over my daughter, I know Lucy and Anna will be safe here. Because this is what family looks like in our world.
It might not be normal, might not be what Lucy imagined, but it's real. It's solid.
It's home.
I watch my President – the man who saved my life, who taught me everything I know – holding my daughter like she's made of glass. His huge hands, the same ones I've seen crush men's skulls, are impossibly gentle as Anna tries to gum his finger.
"Take mine and Chloe’s room," he says, not looking away from Anna. "Ground floor, end of the hall. Best bed in the house, and you both look dead on your feet."
Lucy hesitates, her eyes fixed on our daughter. "I don't know..."
"Trust them," I tell her softly. "Hellfire raised Angel by himself. Man's better with kids than most mothers." I touch her elbow gently. "And you need rest. Real rest, not sleeping in a rocking chair."
"She'll be fine," Crow adds, already setting up another dose of medicine. "Uncle Crow's got stories to tell his niece."
"Appropriate stories," I growl.
"Yeah, yeah." He waves me off. "The PG versions, I promise."
Lucy bites her lip, then nods slowly. "Okay. But if she needs anything—"
"We'll come get you," Hellfire promises. "Now go. Both of you."
As we move toward the door, Lucy keeps glancing back. Anna has managed to grab Hellfire's beard, making him chuckle – the rarest of sounds.
"She's got your grip, son," he tells me. "Strong little thing."
Pride swells in my chest as I guide Lucy downstairs. The main room is empty now, most members either gone home or crashed in their rooms.
Hellfire's room is exactly as I remember – sparse but comfortable. King-size bed, private bathroom, mini-fridge. Lucy stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, and suddenly I realize what this looks like.
"I'll take the floor," I say quickly. "You get the bed."
She turns to face me, exhaustion and something else in her eyes. "Wrath..."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything tonight. For wanting to be her father. For..." She steps closer, close enough that I can smell her shampoo again. "For being you."
Before I can respond, she rises on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. Her lips linger for a moment, warm against my skin, then she pulls back.
"Goodnight," she whispers, disappearing into the bathroom with her overnight bag.
I stand there, hand touching where her lips were, feeling like some teenager with his first crush. Upstairs, I can hear Crow's muffled voice telling what sounds like a heavily edited version of how we met Hellfire.
My daughter is upstairs with my brother and my President. Her mother is in the next room. And I'm standing here, realizing that in one night, my whole world has shifted on its axis.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.