Page 207 of Steel

The moment Bailee steps in front of me in that beautiful ivory dress, I lose all the breath I’d been holding in my lungs.

So fucking beautiful.

And with my little girl prancing in behind my soon-to-be wife, they’re both a sight to fucking behold.

Bailee asked the judge to let us say our own vows, so when it’s time, I clear my throat and squeeze her hands gently. “Never thought I’d want to share such a huge part of my life with someone. You burst into my life, so full of fuckin’ sass andsunshine, settin’ my world upside down. Made me feel things that terrified the hell out of me. Things I rejected and ran from for so long. Our relationship has been damn rocky, baby girl. Put you through things I’m ashamed of and will spend the rest of my life makin’ up for. We got a lifetime together, Lee. Goin’ to love you every day of it and well into my grave.” After I slide her ring on her finger, I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “I love you . . . wife.”

Bailee sniffles. “I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. You were this huge, silent force that stomped around growling grumpily at everyone. Then we started being together and it was impossible to stop my feelings from growing. Our time was always short, but I treasured every second. After you broke my heart, I told myself those feelings were gone, but I was simply fooling myself. You were there, tucked deep in my heart. You scare me. You always have. You’ve got the power to destroy me until there’s nothing left. But loving you and being loved by you . . . it’s a risk I’ll take every day. I love you, bossman. More than I ever thought possible.”

She raises my hand and kisses her name on my finger before squatting in front of Lyric. “And you, my little heart song. I’m not only gaining a husband today, I’m also gaining a daughter. My time with you is something I’ll always cherish. Those moments are precious to me. I love you past the moon and beyond the stars, my little bit.”

Lyric’s tears drip down her face. “I love you too, Bee.”

The judge clears his throat when Bailee stands. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Richter.”

I cup her face in my hands. “Hello, wife.”

She anchors her fingers around my wrists and beams at me. “Hello, husband.”

And then I do what the judge ordered.

I kiss my motherfucking bride.

Chapter fifty-five

Two Years Later

The last couple ofyears have been chaotic as hell. The funerals of our fallen brothers took a lot out of our club. Members have been full of grief, anger, and sadness with nowhere to really aim it since our enemies were destroyed in the war. Kaitlyn has been working overtime trying to help people through their grief. We keep the memories of our fallen alive through stories that slowly bring life and laughter back to the clubhouse.

Having reasons to celebrate keeps the members from falling deep into despair. After Bailee and I eloped at the courthouse, Emmy Lou surprised us with a reception at our house. There was a group of brothers sitting astride their bikes outside the courthouse with orders for us to follow them. It surprised Lee how happy everyone was for us. She’s been struggling to acceptthat no one blames her for the losses, and I think this and her claiming party played a part in her finally realizing that.

Fucking love staring at her property ink on the back of her neck. I run my fingers and lips over it any chance I’m able.

There’s peace inside me knowing she’s mine now. Her eyes resonate with that same peace whenever I peer into them.

Never thought much about being married until my Hummingbird flitted her way back into my life. Waking up with her every morning, seeing that ring sparkling on her finger and hearing her sleepy ‘Hello, husband’ is something I crave so fucking much now. So much that I get fucking angry if I have to be away from her for longer than a night. The brothers have taken to ribbing the hell out of me for my snarkiness when I do, but Wraith and Crow seem to understand since they feel the same when they’re away from their Old Ladies.

We’ve been gone for the last two weeks down in Ashbourne, Florida, helping Rage get his chapter of the Dirty Mavericks established. It’s been strange and exhilarating watching and helping another piece of our club go up. We’ve gone from a small-town club in Kentucky to a bigger city in Florida. We’re growing, and I can’t wait to see where our club goes in the future.

Now, I’m fucking ready to be back home with my girls. Two weeks is way too long to be away.

I rub my thumb over Bailee’s name on my ring finger, letting the motion soothe me as I fly through the streets of Brighton.

Lyric’s been giddy all week, seeming to be overexcited to have me home, and it must be contagious because my wife has been too.

I’m just thankful Lyric is doing better. It was rough the first couple weeks after we told her about Heather, but like most kids, she bounced back quicker than we’d anticipated. I asked her the other day how she was doing, and she reassured me that she wassad and sometimes missed Heather, but she understands she was a bad person who helped hurt Bailee.

Sometimes, I wonder if my daughter isn’t growing up too fast in this lifestyle. Bailee reassures me that she’s safe, healthy, fed, and loved deeply, and that’s all any child can ever ask for. If anyone knows about shit childhoods, it’s my wife.

My brows draw together when I pull up to the garage of our house. Sitting next to the spot where I normally park my bike is a miniature replica of mine. Did Bailee get our girl a bike? My lips curve, imagining my little girl riding around the yard on it. Kicking down the stand, I turn off my bike and walk over to inspect the miniature one. I run my hand over the seat, surprised that it’s an exact replica. Down to the little chameleon painted skulls along the matte black tank. Hanging from one of the handlebars is a cut small enough for one of Lyric’s baby dolls.

Of course, my little girl wants her doll to have one that matches the one I’d bought her for her fifth birthday.

I hold it in my hand, inspecting the leather work. The back rocker is the Dirty Mavericks logo, but when I flip it over, the patch on the front says ‘Lil Steel’.

My fucking stomach flutters as my hands grow clammy around the piece of leather. I tighten it in my fist and make my way to the garage door, my mind roaming so many different directions.

I blink, not even realizing I’d stepped inside until I’m facing down my daughter, who has her arms folded across her chest with a fierce expression on her face. She’s wearing the cut I’d bought her. I’m surprised it still fits her with how much she’s grown over the last three years. When she narrows her eyes at me and turns around, I see it’s not the same one I bought her at all.

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