Page 192 of Darling Psycho

“We all know how the enforcer got his old lady. He watered her like a cactus until she was fully grown.” Chortled Snake. The only man who would dare poke at his friend about Angie. Rider thought of the girl as a daughter, so he never looked too closely at her choice of an old man. It was still new to see them together. But then, not really. When he thought about it, she’d always gravitated toward Lawless, and he’d always been strangely protective over her. His Zara thought they were cute together. Rider wouldn’t go that far, but he knew one thing. She’d always be guarded because Lawless would skin anyone alive for glancing at her wrong.

One reason he still enjoyed these big shindigs was making Zara happy. She loved putting on a party, and she rarely needed an occasion to go into hyper mode. So as he watched her make her way through the rabble, his eyes hot, he knew she was coming toward him, and his heart triple timed. The love for his woman never quit.

The club’s First Lady was a sight, and hopefully, she was just tipsy enough she’d tease him into taking her somewhere private so he could fuck her over something.

Christ, now his dick was hard at the thought of muffling her cries while he railed an orgasm out of her. He grabbed Zara onto his lap the moment she was near. Humming, she nuzzled into his beard. Fuck yeah, she was tipsy enough.

With his arms full of warm woman, Rider felt the peace he’d been striving for all these years. The hard work, sacrifices, the danger he’d fought for over a decade was worth it because of his old lady and their family. By some miracle, probably Zara’s doing; he even got along with his dad sometimes. Of course, they still had their yelling matches, but he no longer hated Mad-dog.

Zara nuzzled his face. “Did you hear Reaper and Paige’s good news?”

“I did, Icy. He’s gonna make a good father.”

Love had a warped way of changing the meanest men into something worthy.

And while Rider held the love of his life cuddled on his lap and looked out on a busy party full of cheerful people, he knew they’d all made it.

Through sheer will to survive wars and trouble that always knocked on their doors.

And some fated luck people would question if they deserved it.

The Renegade Souls MC was prospering.

Rider smirked, roved his lips on Zara’s cheek.

“Love you, my bad biker man,” Zara smiled.

“Love you back, Icy-baby.”

More than ever. Until he fucking died.

And he loved his club.

“Long live the Renegade Souls,” he murmured and grinned.