Page 157 of Boulder's Weight

At the clubhouse, the atmosphere is contagious. Everyone is in a great mood, and the prospects are setting up for the party, old ladies are organizing food, and patched members are gathering in small groups, talking quietly.

Astra spots me as soon as I enter, breaking away from a conversation with Ruby to rush over and hug me.

"The drawing is gorgeous," she gushes, pulling back to look at me. "Python hung it this morning. Customers are already asking if you can take more commissions."

I smile, warmed by her enthusiasm. "Tell them to leave their info. I'll see what I can do."

"You better," she says, linking her arm through mine as we move deeper into the clubhouse. "You've got talent, girl. Don't waste it."

Astra leads me to where the other old ladies have gathered, sliding seamlessly into their circle.

It still amazes me sometimes, how completely I've been accepted here.

These women who once seemed so intimidating—Astra with her fiery confidence, Oakleigh with her artistic soul, Ruby with her no-nonsense attitude—have become my closest friends, my chosen sisters.

"There she is," Oakleigh calls, making room for me on the couch. "The woman who tamed Boulder."

I roll my eyes at the familiar teasing. "Pretty sure he's still wild."

"Yeah, but now he's wild for you," Ruby chimes in, and the women break into laughter.

Across the room, I spot Sam talking with Python near the bar.

He looks nervous but determined in his new prospect cut, the bottom rocker empty but the top already bearing his road name: Compass.

When he sees me, his face breaks into a smile—a real one, not the guarded expression he wore for so long in Montana.

He excuses himself from Python and makes his way over to me.

"Hey, sis," he says, pulling me into a hug.

"Nervous?" I ask when we separate.

He shrugs, trying for nonchalance but not quite achieving it. "A little. Mostly excited."

"You're going to do great," I assure him. "You've already proven yourself to them."

And he has. In the months since the warehouse, Sam has become an integral part of the club, even if he is just a prospect.

"Boulder says it's a long road to a full patch," Sam says, glancing around the room. "Says I shouldn't expect it for at least two years, maybe three."

"Boulder took a few years," I remind him. "And half of that was him being a stubborn ass."

Sam laughs, the sound still rare enough to make me smile. "Yeah, well, I plan to be less stubborn."

"Good strategy."

The conversation pauses as Amara's voice cuts through the chatter, calling everyone to attention.

As the room reorganizes—members gathering in a rough circle, old ladies and friends on the outskirts—I find myself standing next to Astra, her hand finding mine in silent support.

"You okay?" she whispers as Sam moves to stand before Amara.

I nod, emotion suddenly thick in my throat. "Just proud of him."

Proud doesn't begin to cover it.

Watching my baby brother—the only family I have left from before—take this step, choose this path, fills me with a mix of emotions.

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