Page 18 of Harley's Hex
Hurricane arched a brow at him, and he knew that the big guy would have questions. Hell, he still had questions about everything. “She bought a house?”
“Yep, and it was supposed to be a surprise, but then everything happened. We’re engaged too,” he said, tossing that news in for good measure.”
“Wow, you two have been busy, haven’t you?” Hurricane teased. “I’ll have the team ready to roll out by nightfall,” Hurricane promised.” You just worry about Harley and the baby. If you need any help with moving, let me know. I can get a couple of guys over to your new place to lend a hand.”
“Thanks, man,” Hex breathed.
“Since you both are sticking around town, how about we talk about you patching over to my club?” he asked. “I can talk to Savage, if you need me to.” Hex had thought about that, but didn’t want to assume that Harley would want to stay in Yonkers. He had to admit that the town had grown on him, too, in the couple of months that they had been living there.
“I’d love to patch over, but I think that I should be the one to talk to Savage about it,” Hex said. “Harley was talking aboutjoining the Royal Harlots, and even about learning to ride a motorcycle. I think I’ve created a monster,” he teased.
“Naw,” Hurricane drawled. “I think you’ve just found the perfect woman. Don’t be an idiot and fuck everything up with her again,” he insisted.
“Yeah, I’ll try not to, but you never know,” Hex teased. Everything seemed to be falling in place—his family was growing, they had a place to call home, and now, they had a new MC to call family. Hex was feeling pretty good about how things were going. He just hoped that his bad luck would stay far away from the life that he was building—as though that was even an option.
Hurricane called him later that night to give him a blow-by-blow about what had gone down at the docks. He, Hex, and a small group of RBMC members had traced the Dead Rabbit, whom Harley had run into at the grocery store, to a run-down building near the docks. Hex’s heart hammered in his chest as he listened to the story. Harley was recovering at the hospital, but knowing that the man who had terrorized her was on his turf was enough to make him lose control if he wasn’t careful. He was just glad that Hurricane and his new brothers were handling everything for him so he could concentrate on Harley and the baby.
Hurricane told him how the guys acted like a team—coordinated and tactical as they found three of the Dead Rabbits, including the guy Harley had seen earlier that day. Hurricane said that the guy panicked when they took him in for questioning, and turned on the Rabbits, spilling his guts about kidnapping Harley. He even named the other men involved, and the cops were going after them, personally.
He was glad that the guys didn’t end up killing anyone this time. Harley asked that they make it less about revenge and more about making sure that the guy couldn’t hurt anyone else, as they had her. She wanted the Dead Rabbits to be turned over to the cops and said it was the right way to handle the situation. She’d be happy that the Bastards did just as she asked, although he still wished that he could have been a part of the night’s mission. He wasn’t one to sit on the sidelines, usually.
Hurricane even went as far as to call Harley a smart woman, and Hex had to agree. His woman was smart, and he was so damn proud of her. Hurricane said that they called it in, and within an hour, uniformed officers arrived, taking the Dead Rabbits into custody. He told Hex that it was over, but a part of him wondered if it would ever really be over. The Dead Rabbits were too large an organization to be taken down with the arrest of just a few of its men. No, they’d never go away, but as long as he was around, he’d make sure that his little family was safe against any threat that they might pose.
“You did the right thing,” he said to Hurricane, “calling in the cops.” He knew that the Bastards usually like handling things on their own, in their own way, but this time, they followed the rules, and he knew that would make Harley happy.
His adrenaline had faded and been replaced by relief and quiet triumph. Yonkers felt a little safer that night, but Hex knew not to let his guard down—he’d never do that, because that would only put Harley and his baby in danger. No, he’d keep a watchful eye on the Dead Rabbits, and he knew that with the Bastards having his back, they’d be ready for anything.
The new house smelled like fresh coffee and the faint scent of the city outside. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting long lines across the small living room where Harley sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath her. A notebook lay open in her lap with boy names, baby preparations, and lists of things she wanted to figure out before the little one arrived. She told Hex that she was nesting, but he had no idea what that meant. All he knew was that for the first time, in a damn long time, she seemed happy.
The days had turned longer, and the weather warmer. He had to admit that New York in the springtime was wonderful. Living in Alabama, he had forgotten how nice it was to have four seasons, and spring had always been his favorite.
Hex hovered nearby, unpacking groceries, humming softly. The ease of it, the normalcy, made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t felt in months — relief, love, and a little in awe, all rolled together.
“You’re making lists again,” Hex said, sliding a bag of fruit onto the counter. He turned, leaning on it to face her, his eyes warm and teasing. “Are you trying to run your life like a military operation, or are you just nesting again?”
Harley laughed, a soft, happy sound. “Maybe both. I want to be ready for when he gets here. I don’t want to mess this up.”
“You won’t,” Hex said firmly. “You’ve got me. And we’ve got each other. Whatever comes next—I’m not letting you handle it alone.”
She glanced at him, and his heart felt as though it stuttered. She had that effect on him, though. Harley still took his breath away every time she so much as looked at him. “I know. It just feels so real now. The baby, and us—we’re a family now.”
Hex crossed the room in two strides, crouching beside her on the couch. His hand rested lightly on her stomach. “It is real,” he said softly. “And we’re ready. You’re not doing this alone, Harley. Not ever.” She tilted her head, letting him brush a strandof hair behind her ear. The quiet intimacy between them felt heavy with unspoken promises, shared history, and the life they were building together.
“Do you ever think about the old days?” she asked, voice low, a smile tugging at her lips. “All the chaos, the clubs, the fights, and the guys down at Savage Hell?” He had to admit, a part of him did miss all of that. Things at the Royal Bastards in Yonkers were a bit slower, as a newer club. He had patched in, and while Harley had agreed to join the Harlots, she was waiting until the baby came before she patched in as a full-fledged member.
Hex chuckled, brushing his thumb across her hand. “I miss it every day,” he teased. “But none of it matters anymore. We’re done running, done surviving on the edge. Now it’s just us—the three of us. Our lives are in Yonkers now, and this baby will be here before you know it.” Her hand covered his, and she smiled at him, making his damn heart stutter again.
Harley leaned against him and sighed. The tension of the past — Huntsville, the Dead Rabbits, the hospital scares—they seemed to dissolve in the warmth of the day. “I like this,” she murmured.
Hex kissed her temple, “Me too. It feels like we finally get to just—be together.”
He loved the way that she let herself relax completely with him, letting the comfort of their shared life wrap around her and keep her safe. The city hummed outside their windows, the chaos they’d left behind fading into memory.
They spent the rest of the day in quiet domesticity—unpacking, planning, and talking about names and the nursery, laughing at small disagreements over paint swatches and crib styles. Every touch, every glance, deepened the bond between them, a steady, unspoken reminder that no matter what had come before, they had each other now. And in their new home, in Yonkers, Hex knew that he had finally found his home.
Hex held her close on the couch and whispered, “Whatever comes next, we handle it together.” He meant every word of his promise, too.
Harley smiled against his chest. “Together,” she echoed. For the first time in a long time, there was no running, no fear. Only them.
