Page 27 of Always My Fate

“Prez,” Horse greeted. “Got your message. You wanted to talk about the support run?”

“Yeah,” Blackie said, keeping his voice low so he could hear if any of the kids caused chaos downstairs. “I’m sendin’ a small crew your way tomorrow—three solid patches and a prospect. Zen, Swampass, Red Beard, and Seth is the prospect. They’ll reinforce your perimeter and help with the next supply run through the southern routes. But I want you runnin’ point on it, Horse. Not just sittin’ back.”

Horse nodded. “Appreciate the extra hands. Things have been quiet since the last probe, but I don’t trust it.”

Blackie leaned closer to the screen, eyes sharp. “That’s exactly why I’m callin’. You’re doin’ good down there, brother. Real good. But leadership ain’t about doin’ everything yourself. Delegate the watches—put your most reliable guy on the night shift so you’re fresh. Keep Glenna close but don’t smother her. And if anything feels even a little off during that run, you abort and call me. No hero bullshit.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Peaches, who gave him a small smile and a nod of encouragement. Daniel must have kicked because her hand moved slowly over her belly.

“Thing is,” Blackie continued, voice dropping, “this ain’t random anymore. Intel’s pointin’ towards Roscoe stirrin’ shit with the MDMC remnants. They’re escalatin’. Targetin’ me personally, which means they might try comin’ at Belle to pull me away from home. I’m stayin’ put with Peaches and the kids, so you’re my eyes and ears down there. You see something—riders, tags, even have a bad fuckin’ feeling, you call me immediately. We hit ’em together, hard.”

Horse’s expression hardened. “Understood, Prez. I won’t let ’em get close. Glenna and the chapter are family. We’ll keep Belle locked down.”

Blackie nodded, pride mixing with the heavy weight of the situation. “Good. You’ve grown into this role, Horse. I chose right puttin’ you there. Keep me updated every few hours on the run. I’ll be handlin’ runs and shit from here.”

He ended the call and leaned back, rubbing his neck. The danger was definitely escalating, his own brother feeding info to the enemy. The thought made his blood boil, but he kept it locked down for now.

Peaches spoke softly from the bed. “You handled that well.”

Blackie moved to her, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing his hand over hers on her belly. “Had to. Can’t be everywhere at once. Not with you and Daniel here.” He leaned in, kissing her temple. “But I’m still runnin’ this club. Just, from the right place for now.”

She squeezed his hand, and for a moment the tension eased.

The threats were growing, but so was his resolve. He’d protect both his family and his club, no matter what the challenges brought.

***

The house echoed with the beautiful chaos of bedtime. Blackie stood in the hallway like a general directing traffic, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

“Tater! Possum! I swear on my patch, if you two don’t get in the bathroom right now I’m comin’ in there and brushin’ your teeth myself—with sandpaper!”

The kids came running, laughing and shoving each other. Blackie caught them both, one under each arm, and hauled them into the bathroom while Punkin trailed behind clutching her blanket and Lil Bit toddled along with Randi’s help.

He supervised the whole production with gruff affection, making sure teeth got brushed, faces washed, and pajamas put on the right way. Tater tried to negotiate “one more story,” while Possum kept trying to sneak a toy truck into her bed. Blackie finally got them all settled, reading a short chapter in a low rumble, then tucked each in with rough hugs and quiet “I love yous.”

“Night, monsters,” he growled softly from the doorway. “Sleep good. Your momma and me are right down the hall if you need us.”

Once the younger kids were settled into bed and Randi had retreated to her room, Blackie let out a long breath and headed back to the master bedroom.

Peaches was waiting, propped against the pillows, her eyes lighting up when he walked in.

Blackie stripped down and slid carefully into bed beside her, immediately pulling her close. One hand found its favorite place on the warm curve of her belly. Daniel gave a strong kick in greeting.

“You handled that herd like a pro,” Peaches murmured, smiling.

“Years of practice,” he replied, voice low and warm. He kissed her slow and deep, his hands moving with gentle reverence over her body. The moment turned tender and intimate, full of whispered words and careful, controlled passion.

“Been thinkin’ about legacy tonight,” he said quietly, voice thick. “Tuckin’ in those kids or feelin’ Daniel kick. It hits different now. Five kids already tearin’ up the house, another boy on the way. I want Daniel to grow up knowin’ his old man chose this life—chose all of you—every damn day. No matter what Roscoe or those MDMC ghosts try to take from us.”

Peaches traced a finger along his jaw. “He will know. They all will. You’re the one who stays. The man who fights for us. This family, our legacy, it’s already stronger than anything those bastards can throw at it.”

Blackie swallowed hard, pulling her nearer. “All of it. I’ll bleed for this legacy. I’ll kill for it if I have to. But most of all, I’m gonna live for it. For you.”

She smiled softly, resting her head on his chest. “And I’ll be right here with you.”

In the quiet of their bedroom, surrounded by the sleeping house and the steady kicks of their unborn son, Blackie felt the weight and the wonder of their life settle deep in his bones.

This was worth every fight.