Page 21 of King’s Reckoning (Blind Jacks MC #5)

The clubhouse chapel felt different in the pre-dawn quiet, its walls bearing fresh scars from recent events. Rowan studied the gathered faces around the table—representatives from multiple chapters come together for this historic meeting. Two weeks had passed since the hospital confrontation, time spent coordinating witness protection and securing the evidence they'd fought to preserve.

"Blackwood’s legal teams have finally withdrawn their initial injunctions,"

Cole reported, spreading documents across the table.

"Official statements now acknowledge the need for 'further historical review' of the territory claims. No direct admission, but a significant retreat from their previous position."

"Blackwood's people are regrouping,"

King added.

"They've started building a narrative about 'contextualizing historical evidence' rather than dismissing it outright. As close to a victory as we could expect at this stage."

"And the witnesses?"

Rowan asked. She sat at King's right hand, Reed's solid presence behind her chair providing silent support as she recovered from her own injuries.

"Secure,"

Barbara replied, checking her tablet.

"Dr. Beasley and the other historians have been provided with academic protection through multiple universities. Several chapters coordinating security on a rotating basis."

Rowan nodded, feeling some of her tension ease. They'd managed to protect most of the people who had helped authenticate the historical evidence, ensuring their professional credibility remained intact despite corporate pressure.

"Which brings us to the matter at hand,"

King said, his voice carrying in the quiet room.

"The future of our territories. Our alliances. Our approach moving forward."

Murmurs rippled through the gathered leaders. The events of recent weeks had shattered old rivalries, forced them to reconsider long-held beliefs about territory and competition.

"The secrecy served its purpose,"

Cole spoke up.

"Kept these historical records protected when powerful interests wanted them buried. But now that the truth is emerging..."

"Now we have an opportunity,"

Rowan finished.

"To build something stronger than old rivalries and territory disputes. To work together ensuring these truths receive proper recognition and consideration."

She felt Reed's reassuring hand brush her shoulder as she outlined her proposal. A new alliance between chapters, built on shared heritage rather than competition. A network dedicated to supporting the legal process as these historical claims were evaluated.

"It won't be easy,"

she acknowledged.

"We've got history. Bad blood between chapters that can't be erased overnight. But we've seen what happens when we let those divisions weaken us. When we fight each other instead of protecting our shared interests."

"And what exactly are those interests?"

someone asked.

"Now that the historical records are public, the authentication confirmed..."

"We're protecting the truth,"

Rowan said firmly.

"Making sure these records receive fair consideration despite corporate influence. Ensuring that justice finally has its day in court."

"While supporting the communities whose heritage has been denied for generations,"

Reed added.

"Using our collective resources to ensure proper representation throughout the legal process."

More murmurs, but different now. Rowan recognized the shift in tone—from skepticism to consideration. These men had seen firsthand the lengths to which corporate interests would go to suppress the truth. Had fought together to prevent that suppression.

"There's something else to consider,"

Barbara spoke up.

"The research Elena collected, the comprehensive documentation of land claims. It's not just about these specific territories anymore. It's about creating a framework for addressing similar historical injustices across the region."

She displayed maps on her tablet, showing how the territories connected to larger patterns of historical displacement and resource appropriation. About how their work could set precedents for other communities seeking recognition of their legitimate claims.

"My mother didn't just work to protect specific historical records,"

Rowan said quietly.

"She created a methodology for authenticating and presenting historical evidence that could serve as a model for similar cases. A framework that could help other communities reclaim what was rightfully theirs."

"Which is why we need to work together,"

King added.

"Share resources, coordinate legal strategies. Make sure what happened here becomes a blueprint for addressing historical injustices elsewhere."

The room fell silent as leaders considered implications. Rowan felt Reed squeeze her shoulder gently, grounding her as she waited for their response.

Finally, Cole spoke.

"The Devils support this alliance. We've seen what happens when chapters fight each other instead of protecting our shared heritage. It's time for a change."

"King's Chosen stand with you,"

another leader added. More voices joined in from the collective group—Iron Fists, Satan's Riders, chapter after chapter pledging support to the new coalition.

"Then it's settled,"

King said firmly. He turned to Rowan, pride evident in his expression.

"The alliance needs leadership. Someone who understands what we're really fighting for. Who can coordinate between chapters while maintaining focus on the larger goal."

Rowan felt the weight of every gaze in the room. Not so long ago, the idea of a woman leading multiple MC chapters would have been unthinkable. But they had seen her fight, seen her bring people together when they could have remained divided.

"I nominate Rowan Matthews as head of the alliance council,"

Cole said formally.

"She's proven herself in crisis and negotiation. Shown she understands both historical context and present-day implications."

"Second,"

another leader called. More voices joined in, united in purpose if not yet in full trust.

Rowan tipped her head and met Reed's eyes, saw his quiet pride and unwavering support. Then she looked at King—her father, who had chosen integrity over self-protection. Who had helped create a foundation for truth rather than continued deception.

"I accept,"

she said clearly.

"On one condition."

"Name it,"

Cole replied.

"The alliance needs more than just my leadership. It needs a structure that will outlast any one person. A council representing all chapters, working together to protect our shared heritage."

She smiled slightly.

"No more territorial competition or resources wasted fighting each other. Just united purpose in addressing historical injustice."

Approval rippled through the room. Leaders began discussing logistics. How to coordinate between chapters, share resources, support the legal process that would evaluate these historical claims.

"There's one more thing,"

King said as the meeting wound down. He nodded to Reed, who stepped forward with quiet confidence.

"According to MC tradition,"

Reed said formally.

"when a member wants to formalize a permanent relationship, certain protocols must be followed. Permissions asked. Commitments acknowledged."

His eyes met Rowan's, full of warmth and love and absolute certainty.

"I'm asking for those permissions now. Making those commitments in front of witnesses from all chapters."

Rowan's heart quickened as she realized what was happening. Around the table, leaders exchanged knowing glances. This had clearly been arranged beforehand.

"The alliance needs strong leadership,"

Cole said, his tone lighter now.

"Partners who the challenges of the past and the future. Who better than the woman who brought us together and the man who nearly died protecting her?"

"Reed Morrison,"

King said formally, though his eyes held warmth.

"Are you asking for my blessing regarding my daughter?"

"Yes sir,"

Reed replied steadily.

"With your approval, and the acknowledgment of the assembled chapters."

"Rowan?"

King's voice softened.

"Your thoughts on this particular union?"

Rowan felt joy bubble up in her chest, pure and bright despite everything they still faced.

"My answer is yes. Absolutely yes."

Reed's smile was rare and brilliant as he pulled her gently to her feet, producing a simple silver ring with intricate engravings that reminded her of the historical markings they'd fought to protect. As he slid it onto her finger, the assembled leaders nodded in approval, some even breaking into applause.

"A fitting way to cement an alliance,"

Cole commented, genuine pleasure in his expression.

"A union between chapters. Building bridges where once stood barriers."

"Exactly,"

Rowan replied, unable to stop smiling as Reed's arms encircled her.

"This is about more than just personal happiness. It's about creating something lasting. Something real."

The celebration that followed reflected the changing dynamics between the chapters—music and food and beers shared without the usual territorial divisions. As the night progressed, Rowan noticed representatives from different MCs engaged in earnest conversation, exchanging contact information and making plans for joint initiatives.

"Look at that,"

she murmured to Reed, nodding toward where a Devils member was showing a King's Chosen brother documentation techniques.

"A month ago, they would have been fighting over territory. Now they're sharing knowledge."

"Amazing what standing together against a common threat will do,"

Reed replied, his arm secure around her waist despite his still-healing injuries.

"Though having leadership they all respect certainly helped."

Rowan watched as more connections formed across chapter lines—Devils discussing legal strategies with Iron Fists, Satan's Riders offering resources to smaller chapters. The alliance was already taking shape, evolving from concept to reality.

"They're not just acknowledging the alliance,"

Barbara noted, joining them with refreshments.

"They're implementing it organically. Building connections that will strengthen our collective position."

"Speaking of connections,"

King added as he approached.

"we should discuss formalizing this union properly. The alliance would benefit from a ceremonial event that brings all chapters together in celebration."

Rowan raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying we need a proper wedding for political reasons?"

King's expression softened.

"I'm saying your mother would have wanted you to have a proper celebration. A chance to acknowledge this commitment without crisis looming over you."

The mention of Elena brought a familiar ache, but it was gentler now. Time and understanding had helped Rowan appreciate that her mother's complex choices had always been guided by love and integrity.

"Alright,"

she conceded, unable to hide her smile as Reed pressed a kiss to her temple.

"But something appropriate. Nothing extravagant."

"Having second thoughts?"

Reed murmured when King moved away to speak with Cole.

Rowan turned to study his face—the man who had stood beside her through everything, who had taken bullets to protect what mattered. Whose quiet strength had become her anchor in the storm.

"Not a single one,"

she said softly. "You?"

His response was a kiss that spoke volumes—tender yet passionate, filled with promise for their future.

As the celebration continued around them, Rowan felt a sense of completion she hadn't expected when she'd first arrived seeking answers about her father. She had found not just her blood family, but something larger—a purpose that extended beyond personal history, a community united by common history and cause.

And in Reed, she had found a partner who saw her strength as something to respect and support rather than control or direct.

Later that night, as they stood together on the clubhouse roof watching the unprecedented gathering below, Reed's arms wrapped securely around her, Rowan felt the final pieces of her mother's legacy falling into place.

"What are you thinking about?"

Reed asked, his breath warm against her hair.

"The future,"

she replied, leaning back against his solid presence.

"Everything that comes next. The legal battles, the continued corporate resistance, the work of building this alliance into something lasting..."

"Sounds challenging,"

he observed, though his tone held nothing but confidence.

"It will be,"

Rowan agreed.

"But worth it."

Reed turned her gently in his arms, his expression serious in the moonlight.

"There's something else we need to discuss. Something I've been investigating while you were focused on the alliance."

His tone sent a ripple of concern through her.

"What is it?"

"Blackwood's connections go deeper than we realized,"

Reed said quietly.

"The corporate interests he represents...they're tied to government agencies we hadn't identified before. Agencies with specific interest in the territories covered by these historical claims."

Rowan's mind raced with implications.

"What kind of interest?"

"The kind that suggests these land claims might involve more than just property values and resource rights."

Reed's eyes held hers steadily.

"Elena's research hinted at something buried in these territories. Something significant enough that even acknowledging its existence would threaten national security."

The revelation hung between them, opening a new chapter in what Rowan had thought was reaching its conclusion. Her mother's work, her careful documentation and protection of historical evidence might have been shielding something even more significant than land rights.

"Then we find out what it is,"

she said firmly.

"Before Blackwood's people can bury it again."

Reed nodded, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"Together."

As they rejoined the celebration below, Rowan felt the weight of this new knowledge settle alongside her other responsibilities. The alliance was just the beginning. Elena's true legacy might be something far more significant than any of them had realized.

The battle for justice had been won.

But the war for truth was just beginning.