Page 43

I watched Amelia set a plate of pancakes on the table, her movements steadier now, some of the shock wearing off. She caught my eye, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Still processing. Still adjusting to a world without Piston’s shadow hanging over her.

And now I had to give her news that might change everything again.

But I wouldn’t hide it from her. That wasn’t what real partners did. And besides, it wasn’t my choice to make. It was hers.

“Boys,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “Give your mom and me a minute.”

Levi glanced up, alarm flashing across his face until Amelia reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “Just grown-up talk.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed with the suspicion that never fully left him. “Is it about Piston? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “Piston’s finished. This is something else.” I met his gaze directly, acknowledging the protective instinct we shared. “I’ll fill you in after I talk to your mom. Promise.”

He studied my face for a moment before nodding once. “Come on, Levi. Let’s eat outside.”

I waited until the door closed behind them before turning to Amelia. She stood with her back against the counter, arms folded across her chest, her posture both defensive and expectant.

“What is it?” she asked, tension creeping back into her voice. “Your face went white when you checked your phone.”

Instead of answering, I pulled the phone from my pocket and handed it to her, Wire’s message still displayed on the screen. Her fingers trembled slightly as she took it, her eyes widening as she read.

“Wrath,” she whispered.

I moved closer but didn’t touch her, sensing she needed space to process.

“Like I mentioned before, when Piston threatened you, we needed allies. The Savage Knights have territory not only in Nevada, but other states as well, including near the Crimson Skulls. Strategic position. Saint reached out to them, told Wrath the situation.” I hesitated, then added, “Told him about you and the boys.”

Her hand pressed against her mouth, eyes closing briefly. “After all these years. My whole life, I thought he didn’t want me. That’s what my mother always said. She claimed he hadn’t wanted a family and hadn’t told him about me.”

“He may not have, but if he’d known about you, then maybe he would have come around,” I suggested gently.

She nodded slowly. “What did he say exactly? When he found out about me?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I wasn’t on the call. Saint handled it. But as you saw, according to Wire’s message, he wants to talk to you. Soon.”

Amelia set the phone carefully on the counter as if it might explode. Her face had gone pale. “I don’t know what to say to him. What do you say to a father who’s been absent your entire life? ‘Hi, nice to finally meet you after thirty-six years’?”

The hint of bitterness in her tone was understandable. Expected, even. But beneath it lurked something else -- curiosity, perhaps. Or longing. The natural human desire to know where you came from, who you came from.

“You don’t have to call him,” I told her, though the words felt hollow. “It’s your choice.”

Her eyes met mine, searching for something. “What do you think I should do?”

The question caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to being asked for advice on family matters -- hadn’t had much of a family to advise until recently. But I knew what she deserved.

“I think…” I started, choosing my words carefully. “I think everyone has a right to know where they came from. And everyone deserves the chance to decide for themselves who to keep in their life.”

She nodded slowly, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “That’s surprisingly wise for a man who solves most problems with his fists.”

“And what makes you say that?”

She arched an eyebrow. “I doubt you got your name because of the tool. I assumed it was hammering on people with your fists.”

I shrugged, returning her smile with a small one of my own. “Even old dogs learn new tricks.”

She stepped closer, her hand finding mine, fingers intertwining. “You’re worried,” she observed, her gaze too perceptive for comfort. “About what this means. About him.”

“Not about him,” I corrected quietly. “About you. The boys. What you might want once you know him.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You think we’d leave? Go to Nevada?”

I didn’t answer, but my silence was confirmation enough.

Her free hand came up to rest against my cheek, her touch gentle against my weathered skin.

“Hammer,” she said firmly, “we’re not going anywhere.

The boys are settling in here. They have you.

I have you.” She shook her head slightly.

“I’m not looking for a father figure. I’m a grown woman.

What I want -- what I need -- is exactly what I have right here. ”

The tightness in my chest eased slightly at her words. I believed her -- mostly. But I also knew how powerful blood ties could be, how the pull of biological family might affect her once the reality of having a father entered her life.

“I’d like to call him,” she said after a moment. “But I need a little privacy. To process. To figure out what to say.”

I nodded, stepping back to give her space. “Of course.”

She picked up the phone again, staring at Wire’s message. “Can you check on the boys? Make sure they’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, moving toward the door. I paused with my hand on the handle. “Take your time. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Once outside, I found Chase and Levi at the small picnic table we’d set up on the back lawn. They were eating in silence, but both looked up as I approached.

“Mom’s okay?” Chase asked immediately.

“She’s fine,” I assured him. “Just needs a few minutes alone.”

From where I stood, I could see Amelia through the kitchen window.

She paced back and forth, the phone pressed to her ear, her free hand gesturing as she spoke.

I couldn’t hear her words, but I could read her body language -- tense, then gradually relaxing.

At one point, she laughed, the sound carrying faintly through the closed window.

Something in my chest loosened at the sound.

I’d been afraid -- was still afraid, if I was being honest -- that her father would somehow take away what we’d built.

That blood would prove stronger than what we had.

But watching her through the window, seeing her face animated as she spoke to the man who’d helped create her, I realized something.

Family isn’t always about blood. Sometimes it’s about who stands beside you when the world goes to shit. Who holds you together when everything falls apart. Who accepts you, protects you, loves you without condition or expectation.

By those measures, Amelia, Chase, and Levi were my family. And I was theirs. Nothing -- not Piston, not distance, not even blood -- could change that now.