Dad stands straight, and nothing would tell you that just a few months ago, he was at death's door. If we hadn't brought him to the hospital as quickly as we did, and if Viking hadn't bandaged him, Dad might’ve bled out. I'll always be thankful to the guys for making sure that I didn't lose both my parents before I was really into my twenties. I smile at Dad, and he, a little reluctantly, smiles back. I don't think he'll ever approve of my guys, not as sons-in-law or whatever this makes them, but he respects them. And he trusts them to keep me happy and safe, and that'll have to do.
And then he looks over at Izzy in Bea's arms, and his icy expression melts and he really smiles. He says she looks like I did. Maybe he'll never love my bikers, but Izzy can chalk up one more victim wrapped around her little finger. Right now, though, she's restless, at least until Emily comes over and hands her her favorite plush bear that's still wearing his biker cut. After we moved here, Bea sewed a Screaming Eagles patch onto the back of it.
“Alessa Giordano,” says Eagle-eye in his gravel crunching voice, drawing my attention back to the moment. “Somehow you've gotten all four of these fuckers to worship the ground you walk on, to share fatherhood of your children, and to be willing to drag the whole club into a crazy-ass rescue operation to save your from your own damn family. They've declared they want you as their old lady, and I'm going to give you one chance to turn them down, because if you don't, you're never getting rid of them. Whether you want to or not.”
Biker vows aren't like regular vows.
“I want them. All four of them.”
“Alright. It's your funeral,” says Eagle-eye, but he's grinning as he says it. “And you fucks. Alessa has got you twirled around her little finger, just like Isabella does, and I'm sure whatever pops out of her next will too. There's really no point in me even asking, but do you swear to keep her and your kids safe, and to be the men that your old lady deserves and expects, or relinquish your cuts and get the fuck out of here?”
There's laughing around the room and Dad rolls his eyes like this is just some dumb bit of circus that he's being subjected to, but it's not. Not to me. I take a step back, pressing myself into Bear, who puts his arms down on either side of my neck to keep me close. Viking, Hawk and Snark find ways to touch me too.
“Fuck yeah,” says Viking. “Of course we do.”
Bear grunts in agreement, Snark chimes in with another, “Fuck yeah,” and Hawk just nods.
“Then you've made your claim, recognized by the Screaming Eagles MC, and any member who tries to fuck around with what's yours deserves whatever he gets. Now go fuck her silly, or whatever it is you guys are doing that's costing me my goddamn beauty sleep.”
Bear sweeps down to pick me up to squeeze me close, then starts carrying me toward the bikers' quarters.
“Wait, there's a party. Chef's got the grills going. Beer?” I try.
He doesn't even answer, taking us out of the common room and down the hallway.
“Bear!”
“We've got our own celebration planned,” he rumbles. The other guys make their agreement known, and then we're kicking open the door, passing through and someone kicks the door shut again behind us. Bear tosses me onto his massive bed.
I suppose there goes my idea of a more traditional reception.
Then again, nothing about this has ever been very traditional.
“All right, guys. Celebrate me.”
They're already stripping off their clothes.
I'm not going to make it back out there until tomorrow, am I? I guess I can live with that.
43
HAWK
“Hey,” says Alessa as she comes out to find me in the garage. There's been a tick in the engine for a day or two and I'm trying to find out what the hell's causing it. I'm close to asking Snark to look at it, but I fucking hate asking for help. Especially when I feel like I should be able to fix this shit on my own. So while I'm frustrated as hell, I'm glad she's here to distract me for a bit.
I toss the tools in the toolbox and stand up. “Hey.”
“You okay? You look annoyed.”
I snort. “I think you're the only one who can fucking tell the difference from my normal mood.”
With a smile, she runs her hands over her stomach. Fuck, my baby's growing inside her, and it's not wasting any fucking time. “They don't see you like I do. Besides, your normal mood is annoyed.” She comes down the metal stairs from the clubhouse. It's late and it's just us.