"Meet me properly?"
"As mine."
Rosa makes a sound like a kettle boiling over.
I ignore her. "Okay."
He starts the bike. Looks at me one more time with those dark eyes that see everything.
Then he's gone.
Rosa drags me inside.
"Start talking," she demands.
The clinic day passes in a blur.
By the time I walk into the Iron Havoc Tavern, it’s packed—bikes outside, full membership inside, the bar warm with leather, whiskey, and unspoken brotherhood.
Judge is at the bar with Stone beside him. Blaze grins when he sees me. Gear nods from his stool.
Ronan is at the far wall, arms crossed, watching the door—watching for me.
His expression doesn’t change when I walk in, but his eyes do.
I cross the room. He pushes off the wall and meets me halfway.
"You came," he says.
"You asked."
He looks at me for a moment. Then he takes my hand and leads me to the bar.
Judge turns. Looks at our joined hands. Looks at Ronan.
"This official?" he asks.
"Yeah," Ronan says.
Judge extends his hand to me. "Welcome to the family, Harper."
I shake it. His grip is firm and certain and makes me feel like I just signed a contract I didn't read but won't regret.
Blaze raises his beer. "To Ronan finally pulling his head out of his ass!"
The bar erupts in laughter and agreement. Ronan doesn’t let go of my hand.
Standing in the Iron Havoc Tavern, surrounded by bikers who’ve already decided I’m one of them, with Ronan beside me—solid, certain—I think about the woman who arrived here not so long ago.
She was running, holding herself together and hoping it would be enough. I’m not running anymore, I’m not scared, I’m standing exactly where I chose to be. And I’m home.
Epilogue – Ronan
One Year Later
The chapel is small.
Copper Ridge Community Church, the same building that's been here since 1952, white clapboard and a steeple that catches the morning sun. Judge wanted to offer the clubhouse. Harper said no, she wanted something that felt like the town, like the home we've built here.
