Page 67 of Claimed By The Club
Frost’s eyes shine. “You chose us as much as we chose you.”
Ghost nods. “We stand together.”
Viper grins, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Tomorrow’s a new day. Let’s face it as one.”
My throat tightens. “Always.”
In the distance, music drifts from the band, laughter rises around the fire pit, the MC merges in a swirl of camaraderie. This is no longer the battered group that fought daily to survive. We’re forging a legacy that mixes resilience with genuine compassion. And in the center of it, I stand with three men who each hold a piece of my heart.
We remain on the veranda as the night deepens, arms linked, exhaling relief that no bullet shatters the calm, no betrayal lurks in the shadows. The simple act of existing here, safe and unafraid, feels like a triumph. The final image locks into my mind: the four of us side by side, a single silhouette under the stars, unified and unbreakable. Our story might not be typical, but it’s ours—rooted in loyalty, tempered by passion, destined for more than I ever dared dream.
I rest my head on Frost’s shoulder, letting Ghost’s steady warmth press against my back, Viper’s hand clasped in mine. The hum of the MC’s celebration forms a comforting backdrop. This is the epilogue I always wanted but never realized was possible—shared love, unwavering unity, and a future broad enough for all our ambitions. We’re done waiting for permission to exist in this shape. We made our own rules, found our own paradise. And now we stand ready to embrace every dawn, forging an ever-expanding horizon together.
23
SIERRA
THREE YEARS LATER
Three years can change a life more than I ever imagined. Once, I was a frantic woman on the run, dodging debts and bullets. Now I wake up each morning to a different sort of chaos—the sweet cacophony of two bubbly voices calling for me. Even in my wildest dreams, I never pictured myself juggling motherhood and MC leadership, but here I am, balancing crying babies and bar renovation plans without blinking an eye. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
The sun climbs over the horizon, spilling bright rays through the big windows of our ranch house. I stand in the center of the spacious living room, rocking one twin in each arm. A faint whimper from Celeste, the older by a few minutes, alerts me she’s hungry. The other baby, Corbin, nestles quietly against my shoulder, content just to chew on the collar of my robe. My entire body tingles with appreciation for these two tiny people who call me “Mama.” Sure, they can’t say full words yet, but they make enough noise to fill every gap in conversation.
My mind flicks to how I once worried about being enough for a single man. Now I’ve got three, plus two kids. Life is wild. I shift Corbin to one side, pressing a light kiss to the topof Celeste’s head. She coos in response, little fists opening and closing. Some days I catch myself staring at them, awed that these small beings exist because four hearts decided to form a family.
Before I can delve too deep into sentimentality, the front door opens. Viper—Carter—walks in, dust from the desert swirling around his boots. He flashes a grin, noticing I’m swarmed by our “duo of trouble,” as he likes to call them. “Morning, Ms. Miracle Worker,” he teases, pushing a stray lock of sandy hair from his face. “You wrangling the munchkins already?”
I laugh softly. “They woke up early, ready to take on the world. Same as their dad—dads,” I correct, smiling at the term. “One is always raring to go, the other’s calmer. Reminds me of you and Ghost.”
He sets a few packages on the kitchen counter, presumably supplies for the club’s next event. Ever since we pivoted fully to legitimate operations, the MC hosts countless fundraisers and charity rides. Viper helps run the logistic side, channeling his boundless energy into planning routes and coordinating vendors. But he never forgets to check in on me and the twins.
He slides over, eyes softening at Celeste’s little yawns. “Need me to hold one?”
I exhale relief. “Please. My arms might give out soon.”
Viper gently takes Corbin, who promptly clutches his beard, squealing in delight. The sight melts me every time—this formidable man cooing at an infant. I grin, adjusting Celeste. “You see Ghost out there?”
He nods. “He’s taking a patrol around the property, then he’ll be in. Something about a new security protocol for the bar.” A flicker of amusement appears in his gaze. “Also, he said you’ve got final numbers for the expansions. He’s curious to see how big we can grow.”
I bounce Celeste lightly. “We can talk finances over breakfast. Have you heard from Frost?”
Viper smiles. “He’s in town grabbing new supplies for the bar’s remodel. The guy has a surprising eye for design. Should be back soon.”
A soft squeal from Celeste interrupts us. She tugs on my shirt, hungry as usual. I pass Viper a knowing look. “Time to feed these bottomless pits. You want to help me do a tag-team feed? If we don’t hustle, they’ll start a riot.”
He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s do it.”
We wander into the living area, sinking onto the plush couch. It’s a far cry from the cramped cot I used to occupy at the old safe house. The twins grin as we settle them in. Viper helps with bottle prep, and soon the babies gulp down warm milk, eyes drooping contentedly. This routine never fails to soothe me as much as them. The small living room resonates with baby coos and quiet conversation, a sharp contrast to the bullet-ridden nightmares we once endured.
While the twins devour their breakfast, I shift slightly, letting Celeste snuggle close. “Any progress on the legal side of the expansions?” I ask.
Viper shrugs. “Macy—says the county is on board with our proposals. Once they see the new bar layout, they’ll approve the final permit. We might break ground on a second location by next month.”
Satisfaction blooms in my chest. “I can’t believe how far we’ve come. Remember the last time we considered expansions? Bullets were flying.”
He snorts. “We’ve replaced bullets with spreadsheets. I’m still adjusting, but I like the calmer approach.” He pats Corbin’s back, coaxing a tiny burp. “Though, you’ll never get rid of all the wild side. We’re still Renegade Cross.”
I nod, a soft laugh escaping me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
