Page 1 of Roxy's Independence
PROLOGUE
Roxy
July 3rd
The judge,who’s presiding over the adoption process of Canyon and Egypt, honors us by coming to the clubhouse to officiate.
“Thank you, Judge Conners. You don’t know what this means to us. Being here, surrounded by our family and friends was important to not only Weston and me, but to Canyon and Egypt as well.”
He chuckles before saying, “It’s no problem, Roxy. Besides, all of these men, women, and children weren’t going to fit in my chambers. Not to mention, whatever is grilling smells phenomenal.”
“I know, right? My stomach’s been grumbling with hunger since they fired up the grills,” I tease, patting my growling belly. Leaning closer to him, I state, “I was too nervous to eat breakfast. This is a big day for our family and I was eager to make sure everything was set up and ready for the ceremony.”
“It’s going to be quite the celebration,” he says around a whistle as Prowler and Striker roll in a couple barrels of beer. And by a couple, I mean a pallet. My fear is that those two are going to make us look bad. Worse than the perception bikers get from the general population. Yes, we’re partiers, but there’s no reason to showcase it to the judge.
I shake my head and groan. “They’re teenage boys in grown men’s bodies.”
“Don’t fret, Roxy,” he tells me, gently patting my hand. “I was young once too. None of this is offensive.”
“That’s a relief,” I mutter because I was concerned that he’d find a last-minute reason to reject us adopting my son and daughter.
Judge Conners smirks at my released huff of gratified breath. “I’m not here to judge your family and lifestyle, Roxanne. The Imperial Knights are known for helping out the town and all of y’all’s good deeds. Today is a day to be jubilant, so feast and be merry, dear.”
“No stressing, got it,” I mumble as a shadow looms over me and strong arms band around my waist. I lean back into my husband and bask in his calm strength.
“Breathe, baby,” he whispers in my ear before extending one of his arms over my shoulder and shaking the judges. “Glad to have you here.”
“Good to be here,” he returns. “Looks like everyone is in a celebratory mood.”
“Always,” Weston laughs. “Life itself is worth celebrating, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’d say so,” Judge Connors concurs. “Where are our guests of honor?”
“The kids are down at the lake with Scythe and Cuda fishing. They should be coming this way any minute now,” Weston answers.
“The lake butts up to your property? If that’s the case, I may need to put a request in to prospect so I have access,” he teases.
“You’re always welcome here, Judge,” I quickly insert.
“Consider this an open invitation to you and your pole,” Weston tells him. “Friends and allies of the club can fish here anytime they wish.”
Judge Conners hums before a smile blossoms across his face. “I’ll take you up on that offer, Saber. I appreciate it.”
As soon as those pleasantries are shared, the twins come running past with armloads of fireworks. We all chuckle as we walk to the platform where we’ll be standing as he announces Canyon and Egypt as ours.
Egypt clings to me as Judge Conners stands before us. We wanted this a relaxed atmosphere so he’s not wearing his robes, instead, he’s in a pair of cargo shorts with a polo shirt, looking as if he’s on vacation instead of presiding over our future. My daughter has slowly started coming out of her shell and has been my little shadow over the last couple of weeks—I love it!
We do almost everything together. She’s found a love of art and has started taking classes. Scythe and Cuda have bondedwith her over clean lines and shading. They’re artists of a different variety, but their praising input and instruction has her positively glowing.
Canyon is my boy, but he’s Weston’s buddy. Whereas Egypt prefers me, wherever you find my old man, our son is usually at his heels. Their bond is a beautiful thing to watch. The other day, I found myself questioning why I’m not jealous of the fact that Canyon is still leery around me and not Weston, but then it clicked—at his age, he needs a father’s guidance and acceptance more than he needs a hovering, emotionally charged mother. Egypt however, is the exact opposite. She wants a father, but she needs a mother.
As these thoughts linger in my mind, Weston’s beaming smile brings me back to the here and now. As the judge signs the papers, Prowler and Striker light up the fireworks and they explode in the air, their timing, as always, impeccable.
“Does this mean nobody can take me away from you?” Egypt asks as she nervously chews on her bottom lip, anticipating my answer.
I bend down on my knee and take her hand in mine. Once she’s made eye contact with me, I swear, “Never. You’re my daughter now, you’ll always have me as your mother. I may not have carried you in my belly, but I couldn’t love you any more than I do now if I had.”
“My mom would’ve picked you,” she quietly confesses. “And so do I.” Tears stream down my face as Weston crouches down behind me. He places one hand on my shoulder and reaches out with his other to grasp Egypt's. I feel more than see Canyon as he squats down beside his sister and reaches out with his hand stretched out, palm downward. A smile spreads across my faceas I place mine on top of his, Egypt follows by putting hers on mine, and Weston rounds us off by being the last one to add his to the huddle.
