Despite all my bravado in the fight that led to Luke and me being in a car a few minutes out of Amber, I was nervous.

Among other things.

The car was heading directly for my home. Not my house, but the Sons of Templar compound. My house didn’t feel like my house anymore. It surely wasn’t my home.

I’d brought it with the proceeds of some of my extracurricular activities. To solve any of the questions I would’ve gotten from buying said house with money that no one—apart from Wire—knew I had, I took the offer for the loan of a down payment from Steg. And from Cade. And then paid them back with each other’s money.

I wagered they’d never find out because men didn’t talk about that kind of stuff at the best of times, and at that point, Cade and Steg were very far from the best of times.

It was now mortgage free and had a tenant by the name of Gage living there.

Which stopped it from being my house, because I didn’t even want to entertain what twisted shit he’d gotten up to. He’d put me to shame.

But we weren’t going there.

It was weird, taking your boyfriend home to meet the family. Much weirder when your family was a motorcycle gang who would shoot anyone they decided wasn’t good enough. It was off the reservation when your boyfriend had not only met but arrested at some point or another almost everyone in that entire family. Had spent a previous life trying to take them down.

But this wasn’t that life anymore.

He wasn’t coming to raid the compound, look for evidence.

He was coming as my boyfriend.

My heart was thundering so hard I wondered if it might jump right out of my throat. I had never been this scared on a single mission in Venezuela.

That might’ve been because of the visit—the unexpected one—I’d had from Cade a few days prior. I thought it was a good idea to call ahead and tell him Luke was coming so I didn’t spring it on him and my brother didn’t shoot him on reflex.

After I’d told them, there was silence on the other side of the line. “Hello? You didn’t die, did you?”

“I’ll be there in two hours,” he growled, then hung up.

I didn’t think my older brother would actually drive that far just to yell at me.

I should’ve known better.

He and Gwen turned up a little over two hours later. I reasoned the delay was because he didn’t want Gwen coming. But she was there. Because he was a marshmallow.

Not right then, though.

“Him?” he roared. “Really, Rosie?” He began to pace the room. “I know you like to push the boundaries, consider yourself a rebel amongst rebels, but this is fucking….” He ran his hands through his hair.

“Love,” Gwen interjected quietly, eyes on me and then her husband. “This is love, Cade.”

I’d adored my sister-in-law since the moment I met her, but right then, I could’ve kissed her feet. For her gentle gaze and strong vote of support. For going up against Cade. For me.

He glared at his wife, but there was no iron behind it. “It’s fucking not,” he hissed. “It’s Rosie being Rosie.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Seriously, dude?”

“Don’t call me dude,” he snapped, real anger directed at his wife. “I’m your man.”

Another eye roll. “Yes, you’re my man,” she agreed, eyes twinkling. “But you’re also acting like a dude.” She said the word so it sounded like an insult. “You’re not blind, Cade Fletcher,” she continued, her voice softer. “I know you like to think that you only see black, white, and red. That you don’t see the emotional underpinning of this world we live in. The love.” She gave him a look. “But I know better. You taught me better. You saw inside me what I didn’t even know existed. That maybe I didn’t want to know. So you’re not going to bullshit me and say you don’t see it in your own blood. This is Rosie being Rosie. Acting for Rosie. Not for you, not for the club, not for the countless women who owe their happiness and sanity, at least in part, to her. She is finally following her heart. You know the one that beats for the club? The one that all your grumbling men treasure above all else yet take for granted? The one that you’re trying to blindly protect but instead are breaking by being the pigheaded macho man holding onto ancient grudges that don’t mean shit if your sister’s happiness and future are a casualty of it?”

He blinked at his wife. His glare was still in place, but it wasn’t directed at her. His eyes changed, the entire structure of his body changed, under the weight of his wife’s words. I thought he might still yell. Swear. Throw something.

He didn’t do any of that. Instead he stared at his wife.

“Fuck, I love you, baby,” he murmured.

Gwen grinned. “I love you more.”

So he’d left drunk on Gwen, forgetting to even give Luke a death threat.

There were no guarantees, though.

Luke’s hand fastened over mine, stilling them when I hadn’t even realized they were moving.

He rubbed his thumb over my palm. “You’re fidgeting,” he observed.

He was driving again, his truck this time. And I didn’t mind because that meant I’d gotten to take healthy swigs of the margarita I’d put into a sippy cup before we left.

I glared at him. “Yes, that’s what people do when they’re nervous.”

He smiled at me, and damn if my glare didn’t just melt away. It wasn’t as if I’d never seen Luke smile before, but I hadn’t seen him really smile. Showing me he was happy, unobtrusively. And that I was the reason. Unobtrusively.

It quelled my nerves, that smile. Only a little though, because I was picturing a bullet, or at the very least a fist going through it as soon as we arrived.

Luke’s hand moved to engulf mine and bring it to his lips so he could lay a kiss on my palm.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

I huffed but didn’t take my hands from his. “That’s what people always say right before everything goes to shit.”

He chuckled. “Shit with you isn’t shit, babe.”

I gaped. “You’re not nervous? Worried about the state of your body when you leave versus when you arrived? Because I am. I like the state of your body. The muscles and stuff, obviously, but the whole breathing and walking and talking thing too.”

“I would’ve thought you might be happy if I was mute for a bit,” Luke teased. “I always seem to piss you off with the talking.”

I roll my eyes. “It would piss me off more if you didn’t do it.”

“Babe, we’ve got this, okay? You always think of the worst because you’ve always had to. Because too often, you’ve had the worst,” he said, face turning serious. “But that’s done with. No more worst, not before it goes through me. And your family will have to put a bullet somewhere to change that. But they won’t, because they love you. I’ll take a punch, babe. I’ve had worse.”

I sighed and hoped he didn’t get worse.

It was like Cade sensed that someone was coming to challenge his masculinity, because he was waiting in the parking lot, shades on, arms crossed when we parked.

“Oh, Jesus,” I muttered. “He’s decided to go Leon: The Professional.”

Luke smiled and got out of the car.

I was too busy stewing to be quick enough to get out at the same time, which gave Luke the opportunity to get my door, which he groaned about not being able to do. Some of the good guy remained, the best parts.

“Ready?” I asked as he grasped my hand and walked toward Cade.

“Since you were five years old,” he murmured.

I glared at him. Of course he’d say something that sweet right as we stopped in front of my brother, the man who looked like he might actually shoot Luke.

“Rosie, go inside,” Cade barked.

I turned my glare to him, who was directing his murderous stare at Luke, who, surprisingly, was mild-faced.

“Hello to you too, big brother,” I snapped.

He whipped his shades to me. “Rosie, I need to talk to your….”

“Boyfriend?” I finished for him.

Cade scowled and nodded once.

I squeezed Luke’s hand. “You’re not throwing your macho shit ordering me around and beating Luke up.” I moved forward, in front of Luke, shielding him from any blow that Cade might decide to land. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

Cade pushed his shades to the top of his head in frustration. “Really, Rosie? The dramatics necessary?”

I gaped. “Seriously? I’m not the one who was standing in the middle of the parking lot like Snake Plissken.”

There was gentle pressure at my hips as Luke turned me. “Babe, it’s okay,” he murmured.

“No it’s not. You don’t have to play this game. It’s a dumb dick-swinging contest. I have it on very good authority that you don’t need to do that.” I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see Cade’s glare at the comment, but the fury was hot on my back.

Luke kissed my head, smiling and shaking his own. “I appreciate you lookin’ out for me, babe, but this needs to happen. I can take care of myself. And no matter what, I’m in there, right behind you, okay?” he promised, nodding to the clubhouse.

I paused, frowning. “I don’t like this,” I grumbled, turning to scowl at Cade. “And you hurt him, I will shoot you,” I promised. My gun was in my purse.

Cade didn’t answer.

“Thought tensions might be high,” Luke said, putting his hand in his pocket and opening his palm to reveal a handful of bullets. “Took them out to make sure you don’t do something you’d regret.”

I would’ve had a lot to say about that had I not seen the corner of Cade’s mouth twitch. In Cade World, that was considered a smile.

I pointed between the two men who I loved immensely in different ways. “Play nice,” I ordered.

Luke grinned. “Always.”

Cade, again, didn’t answer.

I gave Luke one more lingering glance before I walked into the clubhouse.

I’d always felt easy, relaxed, walking in there.

But without Luke at my side, it didn’t feel right.

I prayed that he was true to his promise, that no matter what, he’d be right behind me.

Luke

He braced. Hard. For the hit—fuck, for the bullet. He was certain the former was coming; the latter was an educated guess. You didn’t just walk into the compound you’d been trying to burn to the ground for years, stand in front of the man you’d hated for your entire life, the man whose life you were trying to ruin, tell him you loved his baby sister and get a pat on the back. No. Even in a normal situation you wouldn’t get that. And this was so far from a normal situation he would laugh if he wasn’t so fucking nervous.

Not about the inevitable punch or the semi-inevitable bullet.

He’d experienced a lot of the former and a fair few of the latter in his years wearing the badge. He was used to them. He sure as fuck wasn’t afraid of them.

He was afraid of any life without Rosie. Fucked up, but he was finding it hard to remember that he had any life before her. It sounded ridiculous, like he was a character in some Nicholas Sparks book for even thinking it, but it was the truth. It was all murky, the before, like a half-remembered dream.

At least it was when he was with her.

Now that he was staring in the face of the man who could alter the course of his life, his past, that dream, was promising an ugly and stark reality of a future without her if this didn’t go well.

Rosie’s family were everything to her. Some women built their worth on things, on looks, money, the men they could bed, the fucking image they put on their social media. Not Rosie. Her worth, her life, her happiness were packaged into that clubhouse, gated off and secured with barbed wire. She’d let him in, but the man in front of him could kick him out.

He’d never thought he’d want to so badly be in there.

They stared at each other for a long time. The length of a lifetime he’d be promised if this went to shit. Cade had this way of staring at a man like he had all the time in the world to cut his guts out and show them to him. Just for fun. It didn’t scare Luke. At least not before.

“You love her?” Cade grunted finally, breaking the uneasy silence.

Luke was momentarily surprised it was words that broke the silence instead of the unmistakable sound of a fist on flesh or a bullet discharging, but he recovered quickly.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Cade gave him that stare once more, testing the truth in that single word.

Luke supposed he had a lot of practice in staring at a man and looking for a lie in his eyes. Probably more than Luke did, though he’d never admit that out loud.

Cade nodded once. “Okay. Let’s have a beer.”

Luke gaped at him. Openly gaped. He could feel the loss of his poker face and didn’t have it in him to regain it.

“You’re shitting me,” he spluttered. “That’s it?”

Cade nodded again. “That’s it.”

Luke ran his hand through his hair. “You’re not spiking my beer with arsenic?”

Cade made a grunt that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “Poison’s a woman’s weapon. Not my sister’s, of course. Hers is a G42. Subtlety is not her strong suit. Runs in the family.”

“But it can’t be that simple,” Luke said, a smile of his own threatening the corner of his mouth.

“Not many things in life are that simple,” Cade said. “It’s fuckin’ tiring dealing with them. Why the fuck try to make the simple things complicated too? Lost patience for that shit the second I saw life without my wife. My kids.” His eyes went dark. “So you love my sister. She’s happy, really happy this time, so that means she loves you. Do I wish she was with someone who didn’t spend the majority of his career trying to bring down my club? Perhaps. But then again, maybe not. Not my choice. Know by experience it’s not yours, or even hers either. We don’t get to control that shit. We’re just lucky enough to live it.”

Luke stared at Cade. The man who, up until recently, he’d thought of as a criminal, as a cold-blooded killer. Who he’d never heard that many words from… ever.

“Don’t get me wrong. You hurt her, I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to you,” Cade continued conversationally. “After she’s done with you, of course.” He eyed him shrewdly. “Don’t expect I’ll be needing to do that, though. I repeat the question. Do you love her?”

Like before, without hesitation, Luke answered, “Yes.”

Cade shrugged. “Then it’s that simple.”

He turned on his heel, walking toward the entrance of the clubhouse that Luke had never been an invited guest of before in his entire life. If there ever was going to be an invitation, Cade’s shrug and small monologue followed by his exit that didn’t include a death threat or the brandishing of a weapon was it.

Luke stared at the patch on the back of Cade’s cut, the grim reaper taunting him: ‘The Sons of Templar MC.’

All his life, he was convinced that piece of leather, all who wore it, and everything it represented were nothing short of the Devil. He tried to think of what specifically gave him that impression, that bloodthirsty need to see the entire club and its members dismantled and cuffed.

Laurie’s death? No, it was before that. But that certainly fed into his obsession.

He could stand there and ponder the origins of that hate. Or he could choose to leave it right there in the dirt, the last scrap of what remained of his previous life. His badge was long gone, and sometimes he missed the weight of it, but then he thought about that weight on his heart. The buck fifty of it, the chocolate curls that tumbled over it. Rosie’s favorite place, and his favorite place for her—besides on his dick.

The decision wasn’t so hard then.

Cade was right. It really was that simple.

He followed the grim reaper.

Rosie

The moments you expected in life to be climatic and chaotic usually weren’t that way. When you built something up to be either terrible or utterly awesome, most of the time you were disappointed or relieved.

Not that I ever really expected chaos or climatic. I lived in it. Normal would’ve been more unexpected.

But I did expect Luke, out of uniform, next to my brother, walking into the clubhouse during a party to have somewhat of an effect.

Especially when his eyes immediately found me, then his feet, then finally his arms.

There was a pause in all the noise, in all the chaos, so small I might’ve imagined it. Then it was gone, the music was loud, the men were louder, and drinks were flowing.

I didn’t notice any of that, too busy cataloguing Luke for injuries.

He laughed. “I’m not bleedin’ or bruised, babe,” he said, rubbing my arms.

I frowned. “I’m not convinced. I’ll have to give you a very thorough physical. Later.”

My stomach dipped even as I said the words, my skin prickling as Luke’s eyes darkened.

“Your brother didn’t shoot me on sight, Rosie,” he growled. “Don’t push your luck by making me take you to an empty hall and fuck your brains out.” His lips brushed my ear and my panties dampened. “Though, I’d risk getting shot to be fucking you hard and fast against a wall.”

I swallowed roughly, glancing around the room. “Stop, Luke,” I whispered. “Because you keep talking like that, I might let you. And I don’t want you to get shot.”

His hand brushed over my ass. “Later,” he murmured, just as Lucky sauntered up, grinning, his arm around Bex.

“Well fucking well,” he said as greeting. “The white sheep of the family returns, and she brought a friend.” His eyes went to Luke. “More than friend. So it’s good I didn’t shoot you, isn’t it, buddy?” He was grinning, none of his previous distaste for Luke showing. It was as if he hadn’t been in this very clubhouse a year ago, about to be shot and arrested by Luke.

Lucky didn’t hold grudges.

I grinned, and so did Luke. “Yeah, I’d have to say I’m fuckin’ glad too,” Luke replied easily.

Seemed he didn’t hold grudges either.

The conversation was interrupted by Brock and Amy—or, more accurately, Amy.

“You little fucking bitch!” she yelled, yanking me out of Luke’s arm with a wink and into her cloud of Chanel No.5. She squeezed hard, then let me go. “I fucking knew this was going to happen,” she said confidently. “But I’m kind of disappointed. You didn’t blow anything up or get shot or anything during the courtship.” She frowned. “I expected more from you.”

I laughed. “The night’s still young.”

Brock yanked his wife back into his embrace. “For fuck’s sake, Sparky, don’t jinx shit like that,” he growled, kissing her head with a tenderness that didn’t match his gruff tone. “Perhaps we’ve had enough of that drama, thought of that?”

He squeezed her tight, as if he was scared her drama involving the father of the man I shot last year was going to rise from the grave and almost kill Amy a second time.

Though even flesh-eating zombies would have a hard—try impossible—time snatching Amy away again.

She rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as too much drama, right, Bex?”

Bex grinned, toying with Lucky’s wedding ring. “Oh, I don’t know. I’d say car bombs and shootings are quite enough drama.” Her eyes went faraway for a second, the year anniversary of that drama fast approaching. The day I shot someone. The day we lost Scott. It hit her hard, that loss. Cracked the pieces she’d only just put back together.

Lucky sensed it, as the men seemed to do, understanding their women’s distress. He tilted her head up and kissed her on the nose. “Love you, baby,” he murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear and not giving a fuck about it either.

She smiled. “Love you.”

“Can you not engage in full-on s-e-x right now? I have an impressionable young child approaching,” Mia yelled, Rocko grinning beside her. His little hand was grasping his father’s large, tattooed pinky. His father was a giant compared to him.

Bull was holding his wife’s other hand.

Bex grinned wickedly. “As if we’d start having sex right here.”

Mia grinned back. “You did it last week.”

Lucky shrugged. “I put a sock on the door.”

Mia laughed. “No you didn’t.” Then her eyes went to me, glowing. She snatched me from Amy, yanking me into her arms. “I’m so glad about this.” She gestured between Luke and me, then looked at her beautiful brute of a husband. “Zane is too, but it mucks with his street cred to squeal about the love fluttering in the air. He did it at home though.” She winked.

Bull merely shook his head, grinning.

Such a facial expression was commonplace for most people, but for Bull, it was pivotal. Because not so long ago, he didn’t smile, didn’t laugh, didn’t live. His body was walking around in this world, but his soul was somewhere else. Somewhere horrible where the day of Laurie’s death was on repeat.

But Mia brought him back.

Even if she wasn’t completely awesome, and completely insane with a hugely famous rock-star daughter, I’d love her for that alone.

I caught Lily’s eye from where she was sitting on the sofa. She was cradling her tiny newborn, Emily, in her arms. Asher had his arms around her, his other hand cradling his daughter’s head.

I blew her a kiss.

Luke claimed me, back to his front.

And I fit. Perfectly.

Funnily enough, so did he.

* * *

“Cade is talking to Luke and not shooting him. I’m impressed,” Lizzie said, sitting down after giving up on chasing her children around to try and stop them getting into trouble.

They were with Rocko, so trouble was inevitable.

I sipped my beer, watching Cade’s mouth move, saying something to Luke that didn’t resemble a death threat.

“Yeah, I’m as surprised as you,” I told her. I looked around at all the people who made me who I was, then to Luke. “Do you think they hate me?” I whispered, letting out my last insecurity to one of my oldest friends, one of the club’s first old ladies, apart from Evie.

Lizzie’s beautiful face screwed up. “You’ve been fighting for all of these people your entire life,” she said, gaze going around the bustling outdoor area, touching fondly on her husband and her daughter for a moment. “Fighting tooth and nail.” She focused her attention back on me. “Taking every inch of pain away whenever you could, absorbing it yourself. You’re the central nervous system of this club, babe.” She looked around again, finding Gwen, squealing with laughter as her husband yanked her backward into his embrace. “You were there for Gwen when she arrived in this town, despite her catching the eye of the man you loved.”

I couldn’t hide my flinch at Lizzie’s observation, her offhand comment betraying her knowledge of a secret I’d guarded with ferocity my whole life. She said it like it was nothing. Not that it didn’t mean something, but that my very emotion toward Luke wasn’t some kind of betrayal.

She didn’t stop to let me mull on it.

“You accepted her into your family. Took care of her when this life threatened everything she’d built. Took care of your brother when she left a gaping hole in his heart when she left. Welcomed your niece with a love that spread through the whole town when she came back, all the while standing with Steg and Evie throughout his recovery.” She moved her gaze to Amy, who was staring so hard at her husband cradling my adorable nephew, Kingston, in his large arms that she spilled her entire cocktail onto the yellowing grass and didn’t even notice. “You gave Amy everything she needed when she was going through the grief of losing the man she loved and the guilt of loving Brock more than that. Fuck, you even almost died with her driving to get booze.”

I rose my brow. “Booze is important, even though Amy has forgotten that.” She’d now discarded her empty glass and was going to sink into her husband’s embrace. He kissed her red hair first, then her mouth, like he wasn’t holding a two-year-old kid. Then again, I was sure Kingston had already seen his parents’ PDA.

Lizzie smiled. She didn’t stay on them for long; instead she found Mia, chasing around Rocko, who seemed to have some form of weapon in his chubby toddler hands. I smiled myself. That kid was going to be crazier than both Lucky and Gage combined when he grew up. Shit, he was crazier than them now.

He let out a little scream of joy when his normally stoic father scooped him up with smiling eyes, kissing his son’s head and shaking his own at the same time when he saw what was in his small hands. Mia put her hands on her hips, scowling at her husband with a glare filled with love.

“You helped a single mom understand that the man she loved was broken almost beyond repair, and you helped her figure out how to fix him,” Lizzie said softly. Her eyes glimmered. “Even though seeing him with someone else who wasn’t your best friend hurt every part of you. You were finally saying goodbye, realizing she was finally gone.” Her words were thick with emotion, true to the core, as if she’d plucked my grief from my mind.

Laurie was part of her life too. A big part. Which meant even now, years later, we both felt the wind whistling through that empty piece of us.

I leaned over to squeeze her hand. She smiled, the expression full of melancholy, then squeezed back. She sucked in a painful gulp of air, then moved her gaze once more. It found Lily, sitting slightly removed from the chaos, pushing a stroller with that absent rhythm a mother has, almost without thinking. Her eyes were far away, focusing on the horizon. Then they weren’t. Then they focused on her husband, lighting with love and happiness so genuine and beautiful it was almost hard to look at. He returned the gaze tenfold. Seeing them apart, you would never guess the shy, beautiful woman would fit with the large, muscled biker. He reached her, gently removing her hand from the stroller, though not before checking inside with that same love glowing in his eye, visible even from across the party. It’d be visible from the moon. Satisfied his daughter was safely slumbering, he yanked his wife into his body, kissing her fully and not at all chastely on the mouth.

And there it was. They fit.

I was still staring when a voice punctured the quiet beauty of the moment.

“Gabriel, you asshole! Put me the fuck down,” a voice demanded.

Lizzie and I focused our attention on the source of the yell, both of us already grinning. We couldn’t see Bex’s midnight cropped hair, just the top of her ass cheek that rested on top of Lucky’s cut as he carted her inside over his shoulder.

He caught my eye and winked at the exact same moment he landed a firm slap on Bex’s ass.

That resulted in another string of curses. Lucky’s grin widened. As did mine.

“You took in a beautiful and immensely broken girl,” Lizzie whispered. “Took her into your home, took care of her when she couldn’t take care of herself. Protected her the best you could from her own demons, even if it meant living with your own.” She paused. “You pulled the trigger on a man who deserved to die, even though you didn’t deserve the nightmares that came from taking his life.”

Her words, her tone, were as gentle as the touch of a feather, but the memories they carried weighed on me like a stone.

“You did that, even if it meant putting a bullet wound in your own happily ever after. Without a second of hesitation.”

Lizzie’s hands squeezed mine, and I blinked away the grim reaper that beckoned me as a comrade. A friend.

I focused on her midnight-blue eyes as they crossed the party once more, meeting Ranger’s as he wrestled with a toddler to try and clean ice cream off his face.

“Little help, babe,” he bellowed across the party.

Lizzie grinned. “You’re a big bad biker. I think you can handle it,” she teased.

“I’ll handle you,” he growled, eyes glowing with erotic promise.

Lizzie’s cheeks reddened as she giggled like a schoolgirl, even almost a decade into her marriage. She was still madly in love with her husband. Like a teenager. And even though he was wrestling a toddler much like a man might wrangle with an alligator, his gaze never left her for long, as if he was afraid if he didn’t glance at her enough, she might slip away. The way a man might look at the stars to make sure he didn’t get lost forever in dark and lonely woods.

“You rescued a marriage that had lost its way,” she said, almost too low to hear. “You did something that made sure two people weren’t walking around bleeding without a half of themselves for the rest of their lives. You made sure I still had this wonderful life that I let others pollute and taint.”

I blinked away the tears at the corner of my eyes. Not many people knew about the darkest days of Lizzie’s and Ranger’s lives. They were two of the cornerstones of this club. Never in the spotlight, but always there. Throughout all the drama and death, they remained constant support. Like Steg and Evie, or Goldie and Kurt, they were the couple that made you not give up on the magic.

For a moment, the magic gave up on them. They had to fight harder for anyone else in this club for a love that blew Romeo and Juliet out of the water.

No one knew.

Because that wasn’t my story to tell.

“You’ve fought for us all. And each and every one of us knows you’d fight to the bitter, or hopefully happy, end,” Lizzie continued. “But you need to start fighting for yourself. The one person you’ve neglected all these years. You have been God knows where doing God knows what. I don’t want to know because I’m not like you. I’m not strong enough to handle what one of the most precious people in my life has struggled through. I don’t need to know because it’s written all over your face. It’s changed you. And I know you went through that because you were helping someone. Know you would’ve plunged into horror that would even make Gage blush if it meant you were helping someone. Fighting for someone. But you’re home now. You’ve done it. Saved everyone who needed saving. Now it’s time to do it for yourself. Save yourself, babe.”

I looked at her, my eyes blurry once more, barely able to hold in the emotion she’d roused within me. “I can’t do that,” I choked, hating the weakness in my voice. “Admitting I need saving is admitting I’m….”

“Human?” Lizzie finished for me. “I’ll tell you a secret. We all are. Even these idiotic macho men who think they can crush cars during bicep curls,” she joked, eyes moving to her macho-man husband for a second. “It’s okay to be human, you know. It’s painful, immensely so, but the rewards are worth it. But it’s not easy. Not like the movies. True love doesn’t fall into place. It isn’t as easy as breathing. It’s a struggle. Takes work. Every day. You’ve got to fight for it, but it’s only the most beautiful of things that are worth fighting for.”

I sucked in a ragged breath, my eyes finding Luke. His had been on me for what looked like a long time.

“Fuck yeah it is,” I whispered.

* * *

Lizzie was hauled away by her husband not long after her heart-to-heart. But not before he kissed my cheek and smiled at me, his wrinkled eyes sparkling. “Happy for you, girl. You deserve this.”

Then he left. No long speeches, no drama, just saying what he meant in as few words as possible.

That was Ranger.

The space beside me wasn’t empty for long. My eyes were focused on Luke chatting with Brock in what actually looked like a pleasant conversation, so I hadn’t realized Evie had sat down until she spoke.

“Sure know how to shake things up, babe,” she commented, her eyes following mine.

I grinned. “Don’t I always?”

She lit a smoke. “True, but you shake things up in what people think are some of the most dangerous ways, but until now, they were the safest.”

I frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

Evie was still focused on Luke. “You’ve spent a lifetime being strong, babe.” She drew in her cigarette. “Not just for you, but a whole club full of men who are only really as strong as the women they love and the women who love them.” She blew the smoke out. “You saw that shit, what it did. So you kept being strong and made sure you didn’t wear the particular brand of love that made you weak. That dangerous kind.” She eyed me shrewdly. “Don’t doubt your courage, girl. You’ve got more of it than any man in here.” Her gaze went around the party, focusing on Steg for just a moment, her hard eyes softening at the corners. “But the bravest thing you’ll ever do in your life is let someone love you, and love them back.” Her eyes went to me, squeezing my hand in a rare gesture of tenderness. “Don’t turn into a coward now when it means the most.”

I looked at her, at the woman who was more of a mother than my own mother ever could’ve been. “I won’t,” I promised.

“Ah, impressed you stayed away for this long,” Evie remarked, eyes no longer on me.

I focused on Luke, who’d obviously made his way over to us during Evie’s version of a heart-to-heart.

He grinned, sitting beside me. “Stayed away for long enough already, ma’am. Not looking to do it much in the future.”

She nodded, face mild. “You call me ma’am again, we’ll have problems.”

I swallowed a giggle.

Luke’s eyes twinkled. “So noted.”

Evie got up, brushing ash off her jeans. She focused on Luke, that mild look still on her face. “Her will and courage are stronger than that of anyone I’ve ever met. Unbreakable, like a fucking diamond. Her heart, though, it’s as fragile as glass. You’d do well to remember that, if you’re fond of breathing.” It wasn’t a threat exactly, but there was a violent undertone.

Luke nodded again, and then Evie was gone, in the direction of Steg.

Luke’s arm went around me and I immediately sank into him. He kissed my head.

“You’re not considering running away yet?” I asked, half joking.

He pulled back, eyes serious. “Never fucking running away from you, babe. And I won’t let you do it either.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “I don’t think I physically could.”

He kissed me hard on the mouth. “That’s the way it should be.”

* * *

It seemed that the day I’d thought everyone in my family would disown me—the day I brought Luke home—was the day that everyone told me what an idiot I was.

But in a more delicate way.

Not one single person had shown any hostility toward Luke or me.

But there was one noticeable person who hadn’t said anything.

He was sitting at the bar, on his own; Evie had taken Belle and Kingston home so Gwen and Cade could have a night together.

“You gonna be okay here if I go talk to Steg?” I asked Luke.

He squeezed me, then let me go, eyes following mine as I stood. “’Course, babe.”

We were on the sofa inside, shooting the shit with Bex, Lucky, and Gage.

Gage clapped his large hand on Luke’s back. “Sure, he’ll be fine. I’ll take care of him,” he promised.

I gave him a look, then turned to Lucky. “You do not let him do any fucked-up shit to my boyfriend,” I ordered.

Lucky shrugged. “Hey, he might like it.”

I shook my head and went to sit beside Steg. He silently poured me a drink. I sipped it, letting the silence simmer, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t.

“You’re not disappointed in me?” I asked hesitantly.

I had to ask, but fuck, I didn’t want the answer. This man was rough, dangerous, cold and sometimes downright cruel. But never to me. Never. He taught me everything he knew about being an outlaw, and I taught him how to be a father. It wasn’t his choice or his calling, but he took to it, went all in, doing the absolute best he could.

And I loved him. Felt safe with him. Protected.

So he did his job.

He looked to me. “Disappointed?” he parroted. Then he looked to Luke, who had somehow gotten Gage laughing. “Fuck no, girl. Not even surprised.”

I blinked.

“You’re a rebel in a world of rebel. Rule breaker in a world where there are no rules. It’s only logical that you’d search for somethin’ to be the ultimate rebellion. ’Spect that might’ve been part of it, at least at the start maybe.” He regarded me. “More likely you saw a good man thinking he had to go down a path that’s famed to be paved with good intentions. Different road to the one some of the brothers have walked, but same destination, though. And like you’ve done with many of those brothers, this one included, you took him off that path. You being you, you probably convinced yourself that was a bad thing. You were a bad thing. ’Cause that’s you. Thinking with your heart, forsaking it for others. But he’s here and there’s light in your eyes, so I’m guessin’ he convinced you that you’re far from a bad thing. And he looks at you like you tether him to this earth. Plus, you got the biggest unbribeable lawmaker off our asses.” He chuckled. “Disappointed? No, my girl, I am not. I’m happy. Finally happy my family is there.”

“Where?” I asked in a small voice.

“There. The place where they’re meant to be. With who they’re meant to be with.” He narrowed his eyes. “Though there hasn’t been near enough drama for it to be the end of this.”

“There’s been drama,” I countered. “More than enough of it. Maybe we’re done.”

He laughed. Actually threw his head back and cackled. “No, my girl, done is something we aren’t, nor will we ever be,” he said once he’d finished. “Especially you. You aren’t one to live quiet, my girl. Not one to love quiet. It’s comin’. Just make sure the causalities are other fuckers who ain’t you,” he ordered.

I smiled. “Of course. You taught me well.”

He grinned back, full of melancholy that I’d never glimpsed on Steg’s face. Every funeral, every injury, every battle, Steg was dry-eyed and determined. He was the face of the Sons of Templar, after all, and emotions meant weakness.

The Sons of Templar weren’t weak.

But now, in the corner of the room, I was watching. Not weakness, but some other kind of strength.

“It’s in your blood,” he said. “Your daddy did the real work, raisin’ a little girl who could outshoot me before she finished elementary school, instilling loyalty in you that almost made you throw away your own happiness for the club that your father taught you to die for. I just picked up where he left off. And even at seven, the job of raisin’ you was done. Only thing I had to do was give you enough space, enough freedom to be, but enough direction not to get yourself killed.” He squeezed my hand. “You’re a good woman, Rosie. You’re the heart of this club, just remember that. So making decisions to fill that heart up is never going to break the club.”

His eyes went to Luke once more, whose eyes were on me, dancing with a playfulness that I didn’t think would’ve been possible today.

Maybe wishes did come true.

For a time, at least.