Page 46 of Claimed By The Club

SIERRA

THREE YEARS LATER

T hree years can change a life more than I ever imagined.

Once, I was a frantic woman on the run, dodging debts and bullets.

Now I wake up each morning to a different sort of chaos—the sweet cacophony of two bubbly voices calling for me.

Even in my wildest dreams, I never pictured myself juggling motherhood and MC leadership, but here I am, balancing crying babies and bar renovation plans without blinking an eye. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The sun climbs over the horizon, spilling bright rays through the big windows of our ranch house.

I stand in the center of the spacious living room, rocking one twin in each arm.

A faint whimper from Celeste, the older by a few minutes, alerts me she’s hungry.

The other baby, Corbin, nestles quietly against my shoulder, content just to chew on the collar of my robe.

My entire body tingles with appreciation for these two tiny people who call me “Mama.” Sure, they can’t say full words yet, but they make enough noise to fill every gap in conversation.

My mind flicks to how I once worried about being enough for a single man.

Now I’ve got three, plus two kids. Life is wild.

I shift Corbin to one side, pressing a light kiss to the top of Celeste’s head.

She coos in response, little fists opening and closing.

Some days I catch myself staring at them, awed that these small beings exist because four hearts decided to form a family.

Before I can delve too deep into sentimentality, the front door opens.

Viper—Carter—walks in, dust from the desert swirling around his boots.

He flashes a grin, noticing I’m swarmed by our “duo of trouble,” as he likes to call them.

“Morning, Ms. Miracle Worker,” he teases, pushing a stray lock of sandy hair from his face. “You wrangling the munchkins already?”

I laugh softly. “They woke up early, ready to take on the world. Same as their dad—dads,” I correct, smiling at the term. “One is always raring to go, the other’s calmer. Reminds me of you and Ghost.”

He sets a few packages on the kitchen counter, presumably supplies for the club’s next event.

Ever since we pivoted fully to legitimate operations, the MC hosts countless fundraisers and charity rides.

Viper helps run the logistic side, channeling his boundless energy into planning routes and coordinating vendors.

But he never forgets to check in on me and the twins.

He slides over, eyes softening at Celeste’s little yawns. “Need me to hold one?”

I exhale relief. “Please. My arms might give out soon.”

Viper gently takes Corbin, who promptly clutches his beard, squealing in delight. The sight melts me every time—this formidable man cooing at an infant. I grin, adjusting Celeste. “You see Ghost out there?”

He nods. “He’s taking a patrol around the property, then he’ll be in. Something about a new security protocol for the bar.” A flicker of amusement appears in his gaze. “Also, he said you’ve got final numbers for the expansions. He’s curious to see how big we can grow.”

I bounce Celeste lightly. “We can talk finances over breakfast. Have you heard from Frost?”

Viper smiles. “He’s in town grabbing new supplies for the bar’s remodel. The guy has a surprising eye for design. Should be back soon.”

A soft squeal from Celeste interrupts us. She tugs on my shirt, hungry as usual. I pass Viper a knowing look. “Time to feed these bottomless pits. You want to help me do a tag-team feed? If we don’t hustle, they’ll start a riot.”

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s do it.”

We wander into the living area, sinking onto the plush couch.

It’s a far cry from the cramped cot I used to occupy at the old safe house.

The twins grin as we settle them in. Viper helps with bottle prep, and soon the babies gulp down warm milk, eyes drooping contentedly.

This routine never fails to soothe me as much as them.

The small living room resonates with baby coos and quiet conversation, a sharp contrast to the bullet-ridden nightmares we once endured.

While the twins devour their breakfast, I shift slightly, letting Celeste snuggle close. “Any progress on the legal side of the expansions?” I ask.

Viper shrugs. “Macy—says the county is on board with our proposals. Once they see the new bar layout, they’ll approve the final permit. We might break ground on a second location by next month.”

Satisfaction blooms in my chest. “I can’t believe how far we’ve come. Remember the last time we considered expansions? Bullets were flying.”

He snorts. “We’ve replaced bullets with spreadsheets. I’m still adjusting, but I like the calmer approach.” He pats Corbin’s back, coaxing a tiny burp. “Though, you’ll never get rid of all the wild side. We’re still Renegade Cross.”

I nod, a soft laugh escaping me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Corbin finishes his bottle, yawning widely.

Viper sets it aside, cradling him. Just then, footsteps approach the door.

It swings open, revealing Ghost, who steps in with his usual quiet presence.

He closes the door behind him, scanning the scene.

A faint smile tugs his lips when he sees us with the twins.

He tips his head in greeting. “Morning.”

I grin at him. “All good out there?”

He nods, crossing the floor to drop a set of keys on the nearby table. “Everything’s quiet. Our local alliances are holding strong, no suspicious activity. The bar perimeter is secure. People are still talking about how well last weekend’s charity ride went.”

My chest warms remembering that ride. We managed to raise funds for a local women’s shelter, a cause close to my heart after everything I endured.

The idea that we’ve rebranded the MC so drastically still amazes me.

Ghost sits on the couch’s arm, reaching out to brush Celeste’s cheek.

She gurgles happily, eyes fluttering as she drifts off.

He says softly, “Do you need a break? I can rock her for a bit.”

I nod gratefully. “Thanks.” Carefully, I transfer Celeste into his arms, watching with a flutter in my chest as he positions her with quiet competence.

Three years ago, the thought of a stoic man like Ghost cradling a baby would’ve seemed impossible.

Now, it’s routine—and it melts my heart every time.

We lapse into a content hush. The twins doze, secure in the arms of men who once solved everything with fists.

My life has turned from frantic flight to blissful normalcy, albeit a normalcy shaped by an MC ethos.

The hush is broken when the front door opens again, Frost stepping inside with a small crate of supplies balanced on one hip.

He surveys the scene, relief shining in his gaze. “I see the little monsters have been fed,” he jokes, shutting the door behind him. He sets the crate on a side table, then peeks at Celeste and Corbin.

Viper nods. “They’re down for the count.”

Frost leans over to press a light kiss to my cheek. “Morning, love,” he murmurs, his eyes bright with affection. I respond with a soft laugh, leaning into him, inhaling the faint scent of desert wind clinging to his shirt.

Corbin stirs at the noise, blinking up at Frost. A tiny fist waves in the air, and Frost’s expression softens. He runs a fingertip along Corbin’s plump cheek. “Hey there, buddy.”

I shift in place, heart full to bursting.

This is my family, in a way I never thought possible.

Three men who took me in, gave me a home, married me in an unconventional ceremony, and embraced fatherhood with unstoppable devotion.

I see the glimmers of each father in these two babies: Celeste’s watchful calm like Ghost, Corbin’s playful streak reminiscent of Viper, and a quiet intensity in both that’s pure Frost.

Setting aside a swirl of emotion, I look to them. “We’re heading to the clubhouse later. Should we bring the twins along?”

Frost and Ghost exchange a look, then Ghost nods. “Why not? The men would love to see them. Maybe we can all do a quick meeting. The club’s stable enough now that babies at the lounge won’t cause raised eyebrows.”

Three years ago, a statement like that would’ve been laughable. Now, it’s reality. A grin tugs my lips. “Sounds like a plan. We’ll load them up after they nap. Let me handle finishing some financials first. Then we can show off how the new generation of Renegade Cross does things.”

Viper laughs quietly. “You know they’ll spoil these kids rotten. Half the guys are already competing over who can buy them cuter jackets or toddler-sized boots.”

I roll my eyes in playful exasperation. “As long as they don’t teach them how to ride a motorcycle before they can walk, I’m fine.”

Ghost smirks, still rocking Celeste. “We’ll see about that.”

A wave of happiness rolls through me. I brush my hair back, casting a look around the bright living room.

The entire place glows with reminders of progress: framed photos of the men with the babies, a shelf stacked with brand merchandise, a corner devoted to kids’ toys.

My gaze settles on the wide windows, revealing the dusty yard outside, the horizon stretching far beyond.

Sometimes that horizon used to scare me, thinking enemies lurked.

Now, it promises adventure with a safety net I never had.

Frost notices the thoughtful expression on my face. “You all right?”

I nod, a tender smile forming. “Just… appreciating how far we’ve come. I was thinking about everything we overcame—Jen’s betrayal, traitors in the club, shootouts, all of it. Now look at us, fussing over babies and expansion plans like it’s second nature.”

He runs a hand up my arm, voice gentle. “We have you to thank for a lot of that. Without your push for legitimate ventures, we might’ve stayed stuck in a cycle of violence.”

I rest my head on his shoulder, gaze drifting to where Viper hums softly to Corbin, and Ghost cradles Celeste with unwavering patience. “We did it together. None of this was me alone. You each gave me courage. Still do.”

A comfortable hush envelops us. The twins doze off again, lulled by warm arms and the hum of our voices. The desert sun climbs, painting stripes of gold across the walls. I feel the pulse of strong hearts all around me. A sense of peace that used to be foreign now runs in my blood.

Eventually, we rouse ourselves. Viper carefully places Corbin in a small bassinet near the couch, while Ghost eases Celeste in beside him.

The babies shift but remain asleep, tiny chests rising and falling in perfect unison.

Frost starts gathering the supplies he brought in, and I finalize a few leftover notes about the finances for the new bar location.

Once done, I set my tablet aside. A familiar wave of determination surges.

This is my life now. I’m mother to two unstoppable kids, wife (or at least beloved partner) to three unstoppable men, co-leader of a reformed MC that’s actually thriving.

My old city self would be stunned, but she’d also be proud.

I found a family that loves me, a place that embraces my ambition, and a kind of love that defies expectation.

I rise and head to the window, watching dust swirl in a lazy spiral.

Beyond it, the compound bustles with activity.

Soon, we’ll bring the twins out, show them around the lounge, let them see the men who helped shape our safety.

They might grow up hearing stories of how we battled Reapers or confronted traitors, but hopefully, they’ll only experience the best side of the MC—its loyalty, its unity, its willingness to adapt.

Behind me, I hear footsteps approach. A hand settles lightly on my shoulder. I glance back to see Frost, eyes reflecting the same satisfaction I feel. “Still daydreaming?”

I turn, looping my arms around his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Daydreaming or living the dream, I’m not sure. But it’s beautiful either way.”

He kisses my temple, warmth radiating from him. “We need to get the babies ready soon. The clubhouse awaits.”

I grin. “Let’s do it.”

Viper and Ghost join us, each collecting a drowsy infant from the bassinet.

We make our way outside into the brilliant sunshine, chatting about the new bar’s interior design, speculation about future expansions, and a friendly debate over which twin will walk first. Laughter underpins every word, an easy banter that leaves no room for the nightmares of the past.

As we buckle the babies into car seats in a gleaming SUV—a gift from the entire club to celebrate the twins’ birth—I take one last look around.

The desert’s endless sky, the remodeled ranch house, the men I love, and the kids who turned our world upside down.

This final snapshot of us, loaded with promise, sends a rush of emotion soaring through me.

We climb in, starting the engine. The kids gurgle in tandem, little fists waving, as if cheering on the journey ahead.

I share a quiet smile with Viper in the driver’s seat, and Ghost peeks back from the passenger side, verifying the babies are secure.

Frost sits beside me, fingers entwined with mine, the ring he wears glinting in the sun. My heart feels impossibly full.

As the SUV lurches forward, dust swirling in our wake, a single thought rings clear in my mind: we’ve built a life that merges outlaw spirit with genuine love, forging a family that’s unorthodox but perfect for us.

Each day brings new challenges, but I know we’ll face them side by side.

Because that’s what we do—Renegade Cross, forging a future where danger no longer defines us and love guides every step.

And I can’t wait to see where this winding desert road takes us next.