Page 11 of Always My Fate

Horse nodded, pride clear in his stance. “Appreciate it, Prez. Security’s the priority, though. I’ll walk you through it if you want.”

“Damn right I do,” Blackie said, already moving towards the fence line with Horse at his side. “Show me the weak spots first. Then we’ll talk about how we make sure those MDMC pricks regret ever thinkin’ about comin’ back.”

As they prowled the perimeter, Blackie kept one eye on the ranch and the other on Horse and Glenna. The bond between them was obvious. It was gritty, real, forged in fire. Just like it should be.

This chapter was going to be just fine.

***

After looking everything over and checking the new barn setup, Blackie clapped Horse on the shoulder and jerked his head towards the front porch. “C’mon, brother. Let’s speak in private for a minute. Glenna’s got ears like a hawk, but she don’t need to hear every damn detail.”

Horse nodded, falling into step beside him. They settled into a pair of sturdy wooden chairs on the wide porch, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the ranch. Shamu trotted up, gave Blackie a suspicious sniff, then flopped down at Horse’s feet like a loyal sentinel.

Blackie leaned back, boots propped on the railing, and pulled a cigar from his pocket. He lit it slowly, taking a deep drag before speaking. “You’re doin’ excellent here, Horse. Real fuckin’ good. When I handed you this chapter, I wasn’t sure if you’d turn it into a circus or a stronghold. Glad to see it’s the latter. Ranch looks tight. Security’s solid. Proud of you, brother.”

Horse gave a short nod, but his eyes stayed sharp. “Appreciate it, Prez. Didn’t come easy, but we’re makin’ it work. Gotta say, my Glenna’s tougher than most men I know. Shamu’s her permanent shadow now. Ain’t lettin’ nothin’ near her.”

Blackie chuckled, smoke curling from his lips. “Good. That dog’s got better instincts than half the men I know. Keep him close. And you—don’t get complacent just ’cause it’s quiet. Leadership ain’t about barkin’ orders all day. It’s about knowin’ when to push and when to pull back. You got the instincts for it. Don’t let the weight of it crush you. Delegate to Duane while he’s over here, and don’t be afraid to lean on Oaky for the logistics shit. You’re the president of this chapter, but you ain’t gotta carry it alone. That’s what the patch means—family at your back.”

Horse absorbed the words, nodding slowly. “Heard you. I’ve been keepin’ the watches tight, but we’re not stretchin’ too thin. Got plans to expand the barn into a proper meetin’ space soon. Glenna’s already got ideas for makin’ it feel like home for the brothers.”

Blackie’s expression hardened a touch, pride mixing with the ever-present edge of caution. “That’s what I like to hear. But listen close—those MDMC ghosts? They ain’t gone. They’re lickin’ their wounds. Subtle little shits, probin’ the fences, testin’ for weakness. If they come back, you don’t wait for ’em to knock. You hit first, hit hard, and you lean on me the second you smell trouble. We don’t play defense here. We own this territory. Belle’s ours. We’re gonna make sure every asshole in East Texas knows it.”

Horse met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Understood, Prez. They come sniffin’ again, they’ll regret it.”

Blackie took another drag, letting the smoke drift out slow. “Damn right they will. You’re buildin’ somethin’ strong here, Horse. I see it. Keep doin’ what you’re doin’. And tell Glenna if she needs anything, any-fucking-thing at all, she calls me direct. She’s family too.”

The two men sat in silence for a moment, the weight of leadership and brotherhood settling comfortably between them. Blackie felt a rare swell of pride looking at the man beside him. Horse had come far from that rider who showed up in Longview. He was a chapter president. A brother worth trusting with blood and bone.

Blackie clapped him on the shoulder one last time. “All right. Enough of this sentimental shit. Let’s go see what Glenna’s got cookin’. I’m starvin’.”

Chapter Six

Peaches

Peaches shifted on the wide couch in their Longview living room, palm pressed to the small of her back as a fresh wave of discomfort rolled through her. The doctor’s orders for modified bed rest were more suggestion than rule in her mind, so she wasn’t about to lie flat while the club needed tending, but damn if her body wasn’t making its complaints known. Her hair was pulled up in a messy knot, and she rubbed slow circles over the side of her belly. The baby gave a strong kick in response.

“That’s right, little one,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “You stay put and grow strong. Your daddy’s out handlin’ business, and we’ve got this side covered.”

The coffee table in front of her was covered with supplies: gift cards, baby clothes donated from the old ladies, nonperishable snacks, and a stack of handwritten notes. Word had spread fast about a couple of the sweetbottoms struggling—one girl’s car had broken down again and another was dealing with an absent baby daddy who’d skipped town. Club family didn’t let their own fall through cracks. Not on Peaches’ watch.

She reached for her phone and started another text to the group chat she kept with the core old ladies and a few trusted sweetbottoms.

*Care packages going out Friday. Need two more drivers if anyone’s free. Also, remind Tammy she can crash in the guest room if things get loud at the clubhouse. No questions asked.*

Peaches hit send, then winced as another twinge hit her lower back. She grabbed the heating pad Blackie had left plugged in nearby and adjusted it behind her, breathing through the discomfort the way she’d learned to do years ago—independent as hell, even when the world tried to slow her down.

She scanned the list again. Lil Bit had daycare in the morning, Punkin needed to practice her letters, and Tater was already asking when Dad would be home from Belle. The older kids, Randi, Tater, and Possum, were pitching in helpful-like, but Peaches refused to let the club side slip just because she was growing another Langdon. These women and kids counted on the patch, on the found-family network she helped hold together.

A soft smile touched her lips as she folded a tiny onesie before placing it into a bag. Blackie would growl about her overdoing it when he got home, but he’d also pull her close and tell her how proud he was. That man.

She picked up her phone again, this time dialing one of the newer sweetbottoms who’d sounded shaky the night before. She’d been with a member who had gotten rough with her, thinking her “yes” responses meant she’d been all in, and he’d called Peaches as soon as he realized the girl hadn’t been on the up-and-up with him.

“Hey, darlin’. It’s Peaches. Just checkin’ in. You need anything tonight? Groceries? Company? A ride to the doctor?” Her voice stayed warm, steady, the steel underneath it pure club queen. “We take care of our own, without exception.”

The conversation flowed easy after that, with reassurances given, plans made, and yet another task crossed off her mental list. Pregnancy might be slowing her body, but it hadn’t touched her heart or her will. The Freed Riders family would be strong while Blackie was gone.

She wished the knot of worry in her chest would ease up. Belle wasn’t that far, but with MDMC still lurking in the shadows, every mile felt like it carried weight.