“You look like a bride.” She squeezed my shoulders gently. “And you look happy. That’s all that matters.”
Charity stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “There. Perfect.”
Joy clapped her hands together, bouncing on her toes. “Chapman’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
I laughed, the sound shaky. “He’s already lost his mind. That’s why we’re doing this.”
“No,” Faith said firmly, turning me to face her. “You’re doing this because you love him. Because you chose him. Don’t ever forget that, Hope. This isyourchoice.”
I nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “I know.”
“Good.” She cupped my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “Then let’s go get you married.”
The ceremony was held in the backyard, near the greenhouse where Faith and I had sat just days ago while I’d poured out my heart. It was small. Intimate. Exactly what I wanted.
Chapman stood beneath the arbor with Digger at his side, both of them in dark jeans and clean button-down shirts. Chapman’s face was still bruised, his ribs still taped beneath his shirt, but he stood tall and steady, his eyes locking on me the moment I stepped out of the house.
Reaper stood between them, his expression unreadable as he watched me approach.
I walked slowly, my hand tucked into the crook of Zeke’s arm. He’d offered without a word, and I’d accepted because despite everything—despite the fight and the harsh words and the pain—he was still my brother, and I loved him.
“Are you sure about this?” he murmured as we walked.
“I’m sure,” I whispered back.
He nodded, his jaw tight. “Then I’m with you. All the way.”
When we reached the arbor, Zeke placed my hand in Chapman’s and stepped back, taking his place beside Joan. Chapman’s fingers closed around mine, warm and strong, and I felt the tremor in his grip.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey,” he whispered back, his voice rough. “You look—God, Hope, you’re so beautiful.”
I smiled, tears blurring my vision. “So are you.”
Reaper cleared his throat, and the small gathering fell silent.
“We’re here today,” Reaper began, his voice carrying across the yard, “to witness the union of Chapman Moore and Hope Owens. This ain’t a traditional ceremony, because we ain’t traditional people. But what we are is family. And family stands together, no matter what.”
I glanced at the small crowd. Charity and Joy stood beside me, both of them crying openly. Joan stood beside Zeke, her hand in his. Stella was beside Digger, holding his hand, grinning like she’d won the lottery. And in the back, arms crossed over their chests, stood Balthazar and Sandman.
Neither was smiling, but they were here.
And that was enough.
“Chapman,” Reaper said, turning to him. “Do you take this woman as your ol’ lady? To love her, protect her, and stand beside her through whatever hell comes your way?”
Chapman’s eyes never left mine. “I do.”
“Hope,” Reaper continued, his gaze shifting to me. “You sure about this one? Say the word and Balthazar will have you outta here fast.”
I smirked. “I’m sure.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” The president of the Golden Skulls winked, then clearly said, “Hope, do you accept Slaughter to be your ol’ man? To love him, support him, and give him hell when he pisses you off?”
I took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me like a blanket. “I do.”
Reaper nodded. “Then by the power vested in me by absolutely fucking nobody, I now pronounce you husband andwife. Chapman, kiss your ol’ lady before I change my fucking mind.”
