Page 36 of Desert Sky (RB MC #4)

JD

W e came in like a circus—tatted-up outlaws in boots and denim, roaring up the North Carolina road in a convoy of bikes and trucks. The Royal Bastards MC never did subtle. But this… this wasn’t just a road trip. This was history rewriting itself.

Regan and Amber were in the lead SUV, laughing like it was a summer vacation. River brought the whiskey, Tarak brought the chaos, and Edge—Edge brought the weight. He knew what this meant to me. They all did.

We arrived by the lake, where Skye had set up string lights and picnic blankets under tall Carolina pines. The air was crisp, the sky open and blue, and the sound of children laughing bounced off the water like music.

He was there.

Jackson.

My son.

He didn’t know yet.

Skye crouched in front of him and ruffled his hair as he opened presents. He looked confused, frowning up at her.

“But Mama, I already had a birthday. ”

Skye smiled soft, brushing his cheek. “I know, baby. But this one’s different. This one’s for all six birthdays your daddy missed.”

Jackson blinked, piecing it together with the imagination only a child could wield.

“Because of the story?” he asked.

“The story,” she said. “The one with the evil queen. But she’s been banished now.”

I froze in place. My boots rooted in the grass, my heart stuck in my throat.

Skye added gently, “And the prince? He’s back now. So we can go home.”

I wanted to fall to my knees.

But Jackson shook his head, shrugged. “But I’m already home.”

I damn near lost it.

Then Cal stepped in, cutting through the ache with his usual cowboy charm. He knelt in front of Jackson, pulling out his phone.

“You like horses, kid?”

Jackson’s eyes lit up. “Yeah.”

“This here’s Blackie,” Cal said, showing him a photo of his prize stallion. “Fastest horse on the ranch.”

Jackson’s grin spread wide, and Cal chuckled. “I’m your Uncle Cal. And this goof next to me is your other uncle, Colton.”

“Hey there, sport,” Colton said, tousling his hair. “Heard you’re the new sheriff in town.”

One by one, they came forward.

Tarak handed Jackson a carved wooden knife. “You ever need to fight dragons, this’ll do.”

River gave him a small model motorcycle. “You’ll ride one of these someday. Royal blood, after all. ”

Edge came last, kneeling and offering a fist bump. “I’m Edge. I taught your daddy how to throw a punch.”

Jackson bumped his fist back, laughing.

Then the crowd shifted. A hush rolled over the lawn.

And I was there.

Ten feet away.

My heart pounded like I was in a cage match.

He looked at me.

Eyes that mirrored mine. Chin stubborn like his mama’s. Something inside me broke and healed at the same time.

I didn’t know what to say.

“Hey,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I’m…”

“You’re my dad,” Jackson whispered, like he already knew.

And then he ran.

Straight into my arms.

One by one, the Royal Bastards clapped me on the back, muttering rough congratulations as if we’d just finished a job. A job six years in the making. Edge rolled out a pack of cigars like it was a birth announcement. It kinda was.

Regan wasn’t far behind. She popped a tiny confetti cannon and pulled a box out of her purse labeled 'It’s a Boy!' complete with navy and silver party favors.

I laughed, feeling the knot in my chest finally loosen. For once, I wasn’t thinking about what I’d lost. Just what I’d found.

Skye had set up an outdoor projector screen strung up between two tall pines, her phone linked to the feed.

One by one, years of missed memories rolled across the canvas like a movie I’d never bought a ticket for.

Jackson’s first tooth, first steps, finger-painted birthday cards.

I saw my son grow up in ten-second loops, and every one of them cut me to the quick.

Tarak had arranged a firework display that lit up the lake like it was the Fourth of July. Booms echoed through the trees. A show. That’s how the Bastards rolled.

Local MC chapters showed up like migrating wolves—hauling in grills, tapping kegs, unloading presents with bows that looked ridiculous on top of toy trucks and tackle boxes. But none of it was ridiculous. It was family. The kind that didn’t come by blood but by loyalty.

I found Skye sitting on a log near the water, the firelight painting her cheeks gold. I sat beside her, not touching her, just watching Jackson run in circles with a sparkler in his hand, laughing like he hadn’t just met half his family today.

“Thank you,” I said. “For keeping him safe. And alive. And... loved.”

She looked at me, eyes glossy. “I tried to give him everything I could. I just wish you’d been part of it from the start.”

I nodded slowly. “It’s time he comes home. To New Mexico. To the ranch. To the Club. It’s his birthright.”

She stiffened. “JD... he’s never left North Carolina. This is all he’s ever known. His school, his friends...”

“He can’t live in two states,” I said, jaw ticking. “But he’s going to know mine.”

She didn’t argue. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she nodded. We weren’t strangers. Not anymore. But we still had a long way to go.