“I’m so fucking glad you’re back, brother,” Snake tells him, exhaustion filling the words. “A few brothers almost got beat into a pulp. How the fuck do you deal with their petty bullshit all the time?” He shakes his head. “Better you than me.”
Titus gives a lazy lopsided smile. “Comes with the patch.”
He says the words easily and with a simplicity that belies the truth behind them. It’s a heavy responsibility. He’s carried it by himself for far too long.
But I’m here now and I’ll help him face whatever comes our way, no matter what.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. A month ago, Titus was shot, but we adapted and dealt with it. The school year is about to start and that’ll require us to adjust again. I’m not worried about it, not when I can feel the caress of his gaze on me like he never wants to look away.
When I look into his eyes, I can see the love he has for me there.
“Some of these brothers are whiney bitches,” Snake points out, but his annoyed words aren’t without affection.
“Yup,” Titus agrees while giving his VP a meaningful look. It earns a glare in return.
Snake wraps an arm around Graycie and pulls her into his side. His hand finds her belly like the movement is the most natural in the world. I can’t help but smile at them and how much in love they are.
“Now you don’t have to run home to hide from them,” Graycie teases him.
Snake glares at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. And when he kisses her forehead tenderly, he can’t even keep up the appearance of being annoyed.
When Jackal and Vera walk up to the bar, they each sweep me up into their arms before they even look at Titus. I barely stop myself from grinning ear to ear and the look of absolute betrayal on my biker’s face isn’t helping.
“Hey,” Titus protests, “what the hell is that? You hug my woman and you don’t even look at me?”
Jackal tucks me into his side while pulling Vera close to him on the other side. “Are you whining, boy?”
Titus pouts and grumbles, “I’m not whining.”
“Sounds like you are,” Jackal deadpans.
Vera reaches up and pats Titus’ face. “Don’t worry, you’re still my baby.”
Titus’ nostrils flare and his eyes go to the ceiling like he’s searching for strength or control. He won’t find it up there.
“But you know we just adore, Ezra,” Vera’s voice is honey and sass.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m keeping her,” Titus says.
When his chin drops and his gray eyes find mine, the possessiveness there has my breath hitching. Whiskey approaches with a small bag in his hands and for some reason I can’t look away from it.
Titus offers me his hand, and I don’t hesitate to take it. He draws me out to the middle of the room, and everyone quiets around us as if they know this moment is one they need to pay attention to.
My eyebrows furrow as I hiss out, “What are you doing?”
“You’ll see,” he assures me with his chest puffed up and pride shining in his eyes.
I look around at everyone and feel that same sense of warmth and belonging rise in my chest. If I’m not careful, I’ll start crying and I don’t think a SOMC party is the right venue for tears.
“Ezra,” Titus’ voice reverberates through the room and I look up him, “you needed my help and protection. It helped me realize I’ve been watching you from the shadows for years, not because of who your dad is but because of who you are. Light shines from you and the care you show to others allows them to borrow a little bit of it. You’re caring and funny and crafty as fuck.”
I can’t help but giggle with his words, the room joins me. When I open my mouth to tell him to stop being so sappy, he pulls something made of black leather out of the bag. My breath stalls in my lungs and the tears pricking at my eyes start to spill over.
Fuck it. Maybe a SOMC party is the perfect venue for tears.
The cut unfurls and I see the property patch and Ryker’s name on the back of it. My hand flies up to my mouth, but I’m not fast enough for it to help hold in the strangled sound that comes out of me. It’s a mixture of joy and surprise.
“You’re already mine and I’m already yours,” his voice deepens and thickens with emotion, “but how about we make it official? I’ve already taken it to the table. The last thing is slipping my cut on you.”
