Page 22 of Monstrosity (Raiders of Valhalla MC: New Blood #5)

I know she means the attack at the coffee shop, the bruises that marked my throat, the night Rio came home from ending that threat.

"I'm good. Really. It was scary, but... I knew Rio would handle it. And he did."

"He did more than handle it," she says carefully. "Word is Bembe’s death was really intense."

"Good." The viciousness in my voice surprises even me. "He threatened my family. He got what he deserved."

Starla smiles approvingly. "You're gonna do just fine as an old lady. You've got the right instincts."

"Is it weird that I'm not bothered by the violence? Like, I should probably be more concerned about the fact that my boyfriend tortured someone to death, right?"

"Honey, that someone tried to kill you. Threatened little girls. In our world, Rio did exactly what needed to be done." She wraps a plate carefully. "The fact that you understand that means you're meant for this life."

"I was just a woman who worked in a coffee shop not too long ago," I say, slightly amazed at the transformation. "Now I'm... what? A biker's old lady?"

"You're family," Everly says, coming in with empty boxes. "You're one of us now. Which means we protect you, you protect us, and everyone protects the kids."

"Speaking of protection," Meghan bounces in, "when are you and Rio making it official official? Like, rings and papers official?"

"We haven't really discussed it. Everything's been happening so fast."

"Fast?" Astrid snorts. "You two have been dancing around each other for years. If anything, you're moving at glacial speed."

"They're right," Tindra adds, joining us. "Bodul says Rio's been gone for you since basically the beginning. Just took him forever to act on it."

"Well, he's acting on it now," I say, feeling my cheeks heat.

"I'll bet he is," Meghan waggles her eyebrows. "Full patch member, full of testosterone from taking out the threat, finally got his woman..."

"Stop," I laugh, throwing a dish towel at her. "There are innocent ears present."

"Innocent?" Tindra looks offended. "I'm twenty, not twelve."

"Still a baby," Everly declares. "Now come on, we've got two more rooms to pack."

The bedroom is both the easiest and hardest room to pack.

Easy because most of my clothes have already migrated to Rio's over the past weeks.

Hard because this is where the most memories live.

The bed where I cried myself to sleep after the divorce.

The dresser I bought with my first paycheck from the coffee shop.

The mirror where I gave myself pep talks every morning about starting over.

"Oh, what's this?" Meghan holds up a photo from my nightstand—me and my ex on our wedding day.

"Trash," I say immediately.

"You sure? No sentimental value?"

"The only value that has is reminding me how far I've come." I take the photo, studying it. The woman in the picture looks young, naive, trying so hard to be what someone else wanted. "I barely recognize her."

"Growth," Starla says approvingly. "You became who you were meant to be."

"Cheesy," Astrid comments. "But true."

I toss the photo in the trash bag without ceremony.

That life is over. Has been for years, really, but now it feels final.

By the time Rio texts that they're heading back, we've got everything packed and labeled properly.

The apartment is empty except for the furniture that came with it, looking bigger somehow without my life filling it up.

"Incoming," I announce, reading his text. "Apparently someone let them have unlimited ice cream."

"Amateur," Starla shakes her head. "Never give kids unsupervised sugar before moving day."

Sure enough, when they return, both girls are practically vibrating with energy. Rio at least has the grace to look sheepish.

"They said they only wanted small cones," he defends.

"Daddy let us get sundaes!" Cali announces, bouncing. "With extra everything!"

"Traitor," he mutters.

"And then we went to the bookstore," Florencia adds. "And the pet store, but just to look."

"Cali tried to convince me we needed a rabbit," Rio explains.

"His name would have been Professor Fluffington," Cali says seriously.

"Did you bring us any?" Everly asks.

"...maybe." He produces a bag from behind his back. "Meghan said you like cookie dough."

"Forgiven," she declares, making grabby hands.

The afternoon becomes an impromptu party, everyone eating ice cream while sitting on boxes.

The girls regale us with stories of their park adventure, which apparently included Rio pushing them "super high" on the swings and Cali attempting to adopt a duck.

"His name was Gerald," she informs us seriously. "Daddy said he couldn't come home with us."

"Daddy was right," I say. "Gerald has his own family at the park."

"But he looked lonely!"

"All ducks look lonely," Florencia says with eight-year-old wisdom. "It's just their faces."

"Like Bodul," someone mutters, getting a laugh.

"Hey!" Tindra protests. "He does not have a duck face!"

"He kind of does," Meghan says. "But in a cute way."

Eventually, the party breaks up.

The women head out with promises to meet us at the house to help unload. Rio starts loading boxes into his truck while the girls do a final sweep for forgotten treasures.

"Found one!" Cali emerges from the closet with a stuffed unicorn. "Mr. Sparkles was hiding!"

"Good catch," I tell her. "Can't leave Mr. Sparkles behind."

I stand in the empty apartment, keys in hand.

Three years of my life, ending. But instead of sadness, I feel only anticipation for what's coming next.

"Second thoughts?" Rio asks softly, coming up behind me.

"No. Just... taking a moment."

"Take all the time you need." He wraps his arms around me from behind. "Though the girls are getting antsy."

"Dasha! Come on! We wanna go home!" Cali yells from the hallway.

"So much for taking my time," I laugh.

I lock the door one final time, leaving the keys on the counter for the landlord. End of an era.

The drive to our house—and God, how I love thinking of it that way—is filled with the girls' chatter about where all my things should go.

Apparently they've been planning this for days.

"Your mugs go in the special cabinet," Florencia explains. "We cleaned it out and everything."

"And your blankets go in the living room so we can all use them for movie night," Cali adds.

"What about my books?" I ask.

"Daddy's building more shelves," Florencia says. "He said you have too many books, but I told him there's no such thing as too many books."

"That's my girl," I say, reaching back to squeeze her hand.

"You two have thought of everything," I say, touched by their inclusion.

"We had to make room for you," Florencia says simply. "That's what families do."

Rio reaches over to squeeze my hand, and I have to blink back tears again.

These girls are going to make me cry all day.

The house already has several bikes parked outside when we arrive.

True to their word, the moving committee has reassembled, now including several of the men.

"About time," Tor calls out. "We've been waiting to unload the heavy stuff."

"You've been here two minutes," Rio retorts.

"Still waiting."

"Some of us have real jobs," Dag adds, grinning. "Can't spend all day moving furniture."

What follows is chaotic as all hell.

The men handle furniture and heavy boxes while the women direct traffic on the road, getting the neighbors to drive past.

The girls "help" by running commentary on everything.

"That goes in Dasha's craft room!" Cali announces about a box of books.

"We don't have a craft room," Rio says.

"We do now. It's the little room next to the laundry."

"That's my office."

"Was," Florencia corrects. "We voted."

"I wasn't included in this vote."

"That's because you would have voted wrong," Cali explains patiently.

I watch Rio realize he's been completely outmaneuvered by his daughters and have to hide my smile.

"Fine," he sighs. "Craft room it is."

"Yay!" Both girls hug him, and his mock annoyance melts immediately.

"You're so whipped," Tor observes.

"Says the man who drove across town at midnight last week for pickles because Meghan had a craving," Rio shoots back.

"She was persuasive."

"She was asleep. You saw the empty jar and panicked."

"Brothers," Starla interrupts. "Less talking, more moving. These boxes won't carry themselves."

"Yes, ma'am," they all say, properly chastised.

The house fills up quickly with my things integrated among theirs.

My colorful throw pillows brighten the brown leather couch.

My plants line the kitchen windowsill—Rio even installed special shelves for them last week.

My photos join theirs on the walls, creating a visual timeline of our blended family.

"It looks like a real home now," Everly observes. "No offense, Rio, but your decorating style was totally 'bachelor with kids.'"

"I have decorations," he protests.

"Motorcycle posters don't count," Astrid informs him.

"They're vintage!"

"They're still posters."

"What about my leather?—"

"Also doesn't count."

"The skull collection?"

"Definitely doesn't count."

"Women," he mutters, but he's smiling.

By evening, everything's unpacked and in its place. The helpers have drifted away with hugs and promises of dinner soon. The girls are crashed on the couch, sugar high finally worn off, watching cartoons with glazed eyes.

"Bath time," I announce, getting predictable groans.

"But we're so tired," Cali whines.

"Ice cream hair needs washing," I say firmly. "Come on."

"Can we have bubbles?" she negotiates.

"All the bubbles."

"And toys?"

"Within reason."

"Deal."

I've done bedtime routine dozens of times, but tonight feels different.

Tonight, this is officially my house, my family, my life. No more guest status or temporary stays.

"Dasha?" Florencia asks as I'm tucking her in. "Are you happy?"

"So happy," I tell her. "Are you? Having me here all the time?"

"It's the best," she says simply. "Now you can't leave."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Good. Because we need you."

"I need you too, baby."

She hugs me tight, and I breathe in her shampoo-and-little-girl scent. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Always."

"Sometimes I forget Mommy Flora. Not forget-forget, but... her face gets fuzzy." She sounds guilty. "Is that bad?"

My heart breaks a little. "No, sweetheart. That's normal. You were very young."

"Daddy shows us pictures and tells stories, but it's not the same as remembering." She pulls back to look at me. "But I remember you. Every day, every moment. Is that okay?"

"That's more than okay," I tell her, blinking back tears. "And we'll always keep Mommy Flora's memory alive, even as we make new memories together."

"I love you, Dasha-mommy."

"I love you too, sweetheart. So much."

Cali's already half asleep when I check on her, but she mumbles, "Love you, Mommy-Dasha."

The name they've settled on makes me smile every time.

Not quite Mom, respecting Flora's memory, but acknowledging what I am to them now.

I find Rio on the back porch, beer in hand, watching the sunset.

The evening is warm, cicadas singing their summer song.

He pulls me into his lap without a word.

"Good day?" he asks.

"The best day." I steal a sip of his beer. "The girls were amazing. Your brothers were helpful. The women have officially adopted me."

"They've been wanting to do that for years," he says. "Just waiting for us to get our shit together."

"Well, we got it together now."

"Yeah, we do." He's quiet for a moment, and I can feel him thinking. "Dasha?"

"Mm?"

"Marry me."

I sit up so fast I nearly fall off his lap. " What? "

"Marry me," he repeats, steadier now. "I don't have a ring yet, and this isn't how I planned to ask, but... marry me. Be my wife. Official, legal, the whole thing."

"Rio..."

"I know it's fast. I know we just moved in together. But baby, I've been in love with you for years. You're already my family, the girls' mother, my everything. Let's make it official."

"Yes."

"I mean, if you need time to think?—"

"Rio. Yes. Of course yes." I kiss him hard. "Yes to marriage, yes to forever, yes to all of it."

"Yeah?" His smile is brilliant.

"Yeah."

He kisses me deeply, then stands, lifting me with him. "Inside. Now. We need to celebrate properly."

"The girls?—"

"Are exhausted. They'll sleep through anything tonight." He's already carrying me through the house. "And we need to christen our bedroom. Officially."

"We've been christening it for two weeks," I laugh.

"Not as my fiancée," he points out, kicking our door shut. "Completely different thing."

"Is it now?"

"Absolutely. Changes everything." He sets me on my feet, hands already working at my clothes. "My future wife. Fuck, I love how that sounds."

What follows is a thorough and very satisfying celebration of our engagement.

Rio is attentive and passionate, whispering promises against my skin between kisses.

When he says "my wife" experimentally, I nearly combust.

"Say it again," I gasp.

"My wife," he growls, moving deeper. "Mine. Forever."

"Yours," I agree, then flip us over because two can play this game. "My husband."

His eyes go dark. "Fuck yes."

After, we lie tangled together, both breathless and satisfied.

"We should probably get rings before we tell anyone," I say eventually.

"Tomorrow," he agrees. "Let the girls help pick them out. They'll love that."

"They're going to be so excited."

"Cali's going to want to be flower girl."

"Florencia will want to plan everything."

"We'll let them." He pulls me closer. "Whatever makes them happy."

"What about what makes you happy?"

"You. This. Our life together." He kisses my hair. "I never thought I'd have this again after Flora. Never thought I deserved it."

"You deserve everything," I tell him fiercely. "Love and happiness and peace."

"Got all that now." His voice is getting sleepy. "Got you."

"Always," I promise.

I lie awake a little longer, listening to him breathe, marveling at how much life has changed.

Two weeks ago, I was serving coffee and living alone.

Now I'm engaged to the love of my life, mother to two amazing girls, part of a massive extended family that would kill or die for each other.

It should be overwhelming. Instead, it feels like it was always meant to be.

"Love you," I whisper into the darkness.

"Love you too," he mumbles, pulling me impossibly closer.

Tomorrow we'll shop for rings, tell the girls, start planning a wedding. Tomorrow the real world will intrude with all its demands and chaos.

But tonight, in our bed, in our home, with our children safe down the hall, everything is perfect.

This is our happily ever after, earned in blood and tears and patience. And I wouldn't change a single thing.