Page 44 of Always My Fate

Peaches looked up at him, exhausted but radiant. “Always my fate, Kirk.”

“Always,” he answered, kissing her deeply before pressing another soft kiss to Daniel’s head. “You hear that, little man? Your momma and me, we’re forever. And you...you’re the next chapter.”

Blackie laughed then, a full, raw, joyful, slightly broken sound full of awe and profanity and pure love.

“Hell yeah, Daniel Kirk Langdon. Welcome to the family, you beautiful little shit. We’ve been waitin’ for you.”

Outside the room, the world and its threats still existed.

But in this moment, with his queen and his brand-new son in his arms, Blackie had never felt more alive.

Life had won.

***

Blackie slipped out of the hospital room long enough to breathe. Peaches was resting with Daniel tucked against her, both of them safe and healthy. He needed a minute to let the overwhelming joy settle before he went back in.

He didn’t go far.

The hospital parking lot had turned into an unofficial gathering spot. A dozen brothers had rolled up over the last couple hours—Duane, Oaky, Gunny, Horse, and several others from both Longview and Belle. No old ladies. No sweetbottoms. Just patched members, cuts, and the low rumble of bikes still cooling down.

Blackie walked up, and the group quieted.

“Well?” Horse asked, stepping forwards.

Blackie’s face split into a wide, exhausted grin. “He’s here. Daniel Kirk Langdon. Healthy, loud as hell, and already got his momma’s fight in him. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a grip like a fuckin’ vise.”

The brothers erupted.

Duane, still recovering from back-to-back surgeries to stabilize the breaks in his legs, let out a whoop and from his location in a nearby wheelchair, he clapped Blackie hard on the back. “Another Langdon boy! Fuck yeah, Prez!”

Oaky grinned wide. “Bet he comes out swingin’ already. Poor kid’s gonna have to learn to throw punches just to survive his horde of siblings.”

Gunny raised a bottle of whiskey he’d clearly brought for the occasion. “To Daniel! May he ride as hard as his daddy and love as fierce as his momma!”

Blackie accepted the bottle, tipped it up for a long pull, and passed it around. The burn felt good. Right.

“Listen,” he said, voice rough with emotion as the group settled. “Last few weeks have been hell. We took hits. We bled. We almost lost ground. But we held. Because of you bastards. Every one of you stepped up when I had to stay close to home. Horse, you ran Belle like a president should. Rook and Oaky, you kept everything together here. Gunny, and all you other brothers who answered the call, I want you to know I see you. I owe you. And now? We got another reason to keep fightin’.”

He looked around at the circle of hardened, loyal men.

“Daniel’s here. My boy. And I want him growin’ up knowin’ what real brotherhood is at the core. What it means to have men at your back no matter how dark shit gets. So tonight, we honor that. We celebrate him. And tomorrow...we keep buildin’ this club stronger for all our kids.”

The brothers raised bottles and fists, voices overlapping in rough congratulations and profanity-laced well-wishes.

“To Daniel!”

“To the Prez and his queen!”

“To the Freed Riders!”

Blackie stood in the middle of it, chest full, letting the brotherhood wash over him. The war wasn’t over, but right now, under the hospital parking lot lights with his brothers surrounding him, he felt the weight of leadership settle into something warmer.

Pride. Gratitude. Strength.

He took one more pull from the bottle and clapped Duane on the shoulder. “All right, you sorry sacks. I gotta get back to my woman and my boy. But tomorrow, we ride for him.”

The group roared their approval as Blackie turned away towards the hospital entrance, heart lighter than it had been in weeks.