Page 24 of Always My Fate

Rook grinned, flipping him off. “Fuck you, Prez. I ain’t the one who’s been glued to his old lady’s bedside like a lovesick puppy. How’s Peaches holdin’ up?”

“Better,” Blackie grunted, the underlying tension creeping back in despite the laughter. “Home now. On strict bed rest, but stable. Daniel’s kickin’ like a future enforcer. I got Oaky runnin’ point on the house with prospects while I’m here tonight, but I ain’t stayin’ late.”

Oaky raised his bottle. “I got it covered, Prez. Old ladies are on rotation, kids are fed, and the perimeter’s tight. You needed this, just gettin’ out for a bit.”

Blackie nodded, gratitude mixing with the ever-present weight on his chest. “Yeah, well, don’t get attached to things going back the way they used to be. What I’m seeing is that you two worthless sacks are actually doin’ decent work delegatin’. Keep it up and I might not have to kick your asses as often.”

Gunny chuckled. “Look at you, learnin’ to let go a little. About damn time, old man.”

The banter flowed easy—more stories, more shit-talking, the kind of brotherhood that reminded Blackie what the patch really meant. But underneath it, the intensity and concentration simmered. He caught Rook’s eye and jerked his head towards the back room for a quick update. The targeted threat was still out there, sniffing closer.

Before things got too deep, Blackie stepped outside into the cooler night air, pulling out his phone. He dialed home.

Peaches answered on the second ring, voice warm but tired. “Hey, you. How’s the party?”

“Loud and full of idiots,” he rumbled, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Miss you, sweetness. Kids behavin’?”

“They’re always good. Randi’s helpin’ with the little ones. I’m restin’ like a I should be—mostly.” He could hear the subtle push in her tone, but she kept it light. “Come back to us soon?”

“Soon as I can. Love you, Peaches. Kiss that belly for me. Tell Daniel his old man’s comin’ home.”

He ended the call and stood there a moment, the laughter from inside spilling out. Brotherhood felt good. But Peaches and the kids were his anchor.

Blackie headed back in, clapping Oaky on the shoulder. “All right, you bastards. One more round, then I’m out. Club business tomorrow—Rook, you’re on point for the Belle support run. Keep it tight.”

The party rolled on, but the underlying tension never fully left his shoulders. The MDMC ghosts were out there. For tonight, though, the club needed this reminder that they were standing strong.

And so did he.

***

Peaches

She shifted against the mountain of pillows in the master bedroom, her laptop balanced carefully on a tray across her lap. The house was too quiet despite the distant sounds of the kids playing downstairs. She refreshed the old ladies group chat again, reading the latest updates—meal deliveries confirmed, another sweetbottom safely moved into temporary housing, and a note from one of the girls saying little Daniel’s onesies had arrived.

It should have felt good. Instead, it left her restless.

She rubbed slow circles over her belly, feeling Daniel kick strong and steady. “You’re keepin’ me company, aren’t you, baby boy?” she murmured. “But your momma wasn’t built to sit still this long.”

The frustration gnawed at her. Club business was happening without her—Blackie at the party, Oaky stepping up, the old ladies handling what she used to coordinate in her sleep. Being home was better than the hospital, but this half-life of bed rest made her want to scream. She’d survived worse with far less support. Now she was reduced to directing from a bed like some fragile old queen who might break if she stood up too fast.

A soft knock sounded, and Randi opened the door with Punkin and Lil Bit in tow. “They wanted to see you before bed, Mom.”

Peaches’ face softened immediately. “Come here, my girls.”

Punkin climbed carefully onto the bed, all energy and wild curls, while Lil Bit toddled over with sticky fingers, reaching for her momma. Peaches pulled them close, careful of her belly, inhaling the sweet scent of shampoo and childhood.

“Mommy, are you still sick?” Punkin asked, resting her small head against Peaches’ shoulder.

“Not sick, baby. Just makin’ sure your baby brother gets big and strong before he comes out to meet you.” She kissed the top of Punkin’s head, then reached down to stroke Lil Bit’s cheek as the toddler babbled happily and patted her belly. “See? Daniel’s already sayin’ hi to you.”

Lil Bit giggled and planted a wet kiss on Peaches’ belly, making her laugh despite the ache in her chest. These moments of small things such as holding her girls, feeling their warmth and trust, they all reminded her exactly why she fought so hard. Being sidelined felt like betrayal to everything she was.

“You two are my brave girls,” she whispered, voice thick with love and quiet frustration. “Mommy’s gonna be up and chasin’ you around again soon. I promise. Until then, you keep bein’ good for Daddy and Randi, okay?”

Punkin nodded solemnly while Lil Bit snuggled closer, her tiny hand fisting in Peaches’ shirt. The sweetness grounded her, but it also sharpened the restless fire inside. She knew there’d be only a matter of weeks before this grounding was behind her. Get to week thirty-two, and they could induce delivery and get everyone back on stable ground. Once Daniel was safely on this side of the veil, she’d take a full breath for the first time in weeks. I can do anything five minutes at a stretch. I can do this.

As Randi came to collect the little ones for bed, Peaches picked up her phone again. She fired off another message to the old ladies with a few adjustments she’d noticed in the plans.