"In two days, we ride out, following the transport of the shipment of bikes." Chief stood by the window in the meeting room of the clubhouse. "Komoon's altercation with the landing point in Klamath has forced us to go around Northern California to stay out of Lagsturn's territory. The only way we can guarantee a successful delivery is if we follow it all the way to our destination."

It'd taken Jett six months of building up his strength, honing his skills, and hundreds of hours on his Harley to know he was more than ready to make the trip. He'd stopped taping his fingers together and instead wore a riding glove, hiding the damage to his hand when he rode and was around others.

A couple groans around the table filled the room over the news. Jett sat between Olin and Thorn. They'd already been briefed on the changes. The meeting was to fill in the other officers of Brikken.

"That means on our new schedule, plan on being gone a week. Have your fun tonight, and then rest up. We ride out early Sunday morning." Chief glanced out the window. "Meeting over."

The others left the room. Jett remained behind with Keeffe per his dad's request.

"Shut the door, son." Chief stepped over to the table, pulled out a chair, and planted his boot on the seat.

Jett closed the door and returned to the table and sat. Any change in the route of the shipment put an added risk on the club. He wanted to make sure he was a part of the transport.

Chief ran his hand down his beard. "This will be my last trip as president of Brikken Motorcycle Club."

Jett stared at his dad's hands. Strong hands — scarred, stained, and broad. Hands that'd gripped a motorcycle his whole life, killed men, worked hard, and yet held babies with the tenderness few people had witnessed. Hands that'd taken a firm grip on him, both in support and guiding him in the right direction. Hands that had been used to protect his family. Hands still capable of leading a motorcycle club the size of Brikken.

"Jesus Christ," mumbled Keefe leaning forward and planting his elbows on the table. "You've got more years in you, Chief."

Chief dipped his chin. "It's time. I'm sixty-one years old. Without any weapons on me, our enemies will take my age as a weakness to hurt Brikken. I've done what Rollo would've wanted and taught those values to my sons. Next month, we'll have the meeting to swear in Jett. He's ready. He's strong. His head and his heart are straight."

"All, what the hell." Keeffe cussed under his breath before breaking out in a chuckle. "I always swore I'd follow you to the end, give my position up to someone younger and more motivated when you slowed down. Donna's been wanting me to be around more for the grandkids, and I guess the end of the road is in sight."

"Take your time. Think it over." Chief straightened. "Talk to Jett. We'll take it to the table and vote as a club, the way it's always been."

From as far back as he could remember, Jett understood that Olin would be his vice president when the time came. He suspected his brother had no idea how life was about to change.

Next month, Jett would also turn forty-two years old. While he'd prepared for the day he'd step up and control Brikken, it was with solemn acceptance as he listened to Chief admit that a new stage in all their lives was beginning.

"All right." Keeffe stood. "We focus on the ride, and hope like hell we can pull this off. I'm getting too damn old to spend any more time in prison."

The vice president left the room. Jett remained sitting, looking at his father. He knew Chief. The decision hadn't come easy for him.

"You'll need to find time to talk to Olin." Chief walked around the table.

Jett stood. "I will after the ride. I want him focused on the trip."

Chief walked with him to the doorway. Eye to eye with his dad, he asked, "No reason you can't change your mind. Take the club through another year."

"Nah, son." He stopped and chuckled. "Rollo mentioned one time that his greatest wish was to live long enough to see me succeed in his place. He never got that chance. I want to see you and your brothers take your place within the club, give your sisters a secure home. That will be my biggest..." Chief swallowed. "Well, it's what I want."

He slapped his dad on the back in understanding. The change was as much for Chief as it was for Jett.

They walked down the hallway in silence. Jett stopped at the door to the playroom and wasn't surprised to find Chief waiting, too. Any chance he got, his dad took Stassi and let her follow him around the Brikken property.

He opened the door. Three little kids played in the corner with the large number of toys at their disposal. Kylie, in the middle of the group, built some kind of block tower while talking softly to the children. He looked to the other side of the room and found Sydney holding D-Con's son.

Just a year old, the little boy gazed up at Sydney in awe while she talked. Jett couldn't tell what she was saying because she spoke too low, but he'd bet everything he owned that she told D-Con Junior a wild tale about a long ivy vine hanging from a cloud and the magic that could be found up in the sky.

For someone who grew up in foster care, never learning that family was forever, Sydney possessed so much love she couldn't help sharing that with the babies and children she cared for at the clubhouse.

"She's going to have my babies," he said.

Chief nudged him with his arm. "Sydney's pregnant?"

He shook his head without taking his gaze off Sydney. "Not yet, but she will be. Rollo's legacy will go on," he whispered.

Chief clamped his hand on Jett's shoulder, then stepped into the room, grabbing the attention of Stassi from the dollhouse she played with on the floor. Jett walked to Sydney.

"...and when the boy climbed back down the vine of ivy, he looked up at the clouds and knew the little girl living in the castle would be there when he returned." Sydney turned, spotted him near, and smiled. "Hey, you. I thought you had a meeting."

"We're done." He leaned in and kissed her upturned lips. "There's no daycare tonight for the party, so you're free to join the adults. Do you feel like hanging around a little longer at the club?"

She grinned and shifted little D-Con Junior to her other hip. "Absolutely, as long as you'll be here."

"You know it." He kissed her again and felt a tug on his hand.

He looked down into Stassi's big eyes. "What do you want?"

Stassi lifted her arm. He grunted. She wore a glove on her hand. Her other hand was bare. A couple of months ago, his little sister started wearing one of her snow gloves to be like him.

He squatted down. "The snow is all gone."

"It's not for snow. I'm never going to take it off." Stassi leaned into him and blinked at him. "Will you come to our house?"

"Not today."

Stassi stuck out her lower lip. "I'm going to tell Thorn to come over."

"You do that." He chuckled, knowing she'd probably get their brother to do anything she asked.

"Stassi, let's go," said Chief.

Jett motioned his head. "Better get going, squirt."

"I'm not afraid of Chief." Stassi rolled her eyes in an imitation of her older sister. "I'm going to stay here and—"

"Stassi Stanton, get your ass over here," said Chief in his booming voice.

His little sister stiffened with wide eyes before running across the room to Chief. Jett straightened.

"I give Stassi three more years, and she'll go head to head with Chief." Sydney swayed side to side with the baby.

"She'll try." He winked. "He'll teach her a lesson about what happens when you think you can grow up too fast."

Sydney hummed in amusement. "Sounds like you've learned that by experience."

"More than once." He watched his dad and baby sister leave the room and turned back to Sydney. "She never takes that glove off?"

"Nope."

He shook his head. "Maybe I should tell her that I only wear a glove when I'm working or riding."

"Johanna would probably appreciate it. The glove is filthy, and she refuses to take it off when she eats." Sydney looked down at Junior, asleep in her arms. "I should put him down. The parents think I spoil the babies when I hold them when they're sleeping."

She continued rocking the baby on her feet. Jett's chest warmed. His MC brothers had mentioned how invaluable Sydney was running the daycare at the clubhouse. She'd taken what started as a couple of nights a week job to fulltime, offering the mothers a place to bring the kids while they worked a job outside of Brikken.

Most of the time, it was her and Kylie in charge of the kids, but the mothers also took turns when extra help was needed.

Sydney still hadn't put Junior in the crib. Jett inhaled deeply, knowing the changes in their lives with Chief stepping down would impact both of them. He wanted to give Sydney everything she deserved and would need. They'd both need to have their priorities straight going forward.

"Remember my room upstairs." He rubbed his lips together.

She looked at him and clicked her tongue. "Of course, I remember."

"It's vacant." He looked around the room. "Any chance Kylie can watch the kids for fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen?" She laughed softly. "That's all the longer you need me?"

"Long enough to get the job done." He leaned in and kissed her deeply. "Talk to your sister. I'll meet you upstairs."

He walked across the room. At the door, he looked back at her. She stood at the crib, putting Junior down. He chuckled and headed toward the stairs.

Regardless if Kylie needed her in the daycare, Sydney would manipulate, con, lie, run away to be with him.

And, he wouldn't stop her.