Page 65 of Unhinged

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

brYDGETT

Georgia and Marcus show up right around sunset. Georgia’s got that huge-ass purse she always carries and a plate of cookies she refuses to admit are store-bought. Marcus just walks in like he’s still not sure if he belongs.

We sit at the kitchen table. There’s a six-pack of beers cracked for my alphas, and Georgia and Marcus have lemonade in mismatched mugs.

She looks at me over the rim. “How you holding up, baby?”

“I’m good,” I say. “Actually, I’m great.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow, and Georgia’s already tearing up before I finish the next part.

“I bonded them,” I say, lifting my chin. “All three.”

Georgia full-on cries and comes around the table to hug me so tight I can barely breathe.

“Well, guess that means you’re moving out for good,” she sniffles.

“Yeah,” I nod. “Marcus, the place is yours for good.”

He looks a little stunned. “Thanks, Brydgett.”

But Gears speaks up, “We still have questions.”

Marcus doesn’t even flinch. “Ask them.”

“How did you find Gidge?” Gears says.

“I saw them carrying her out of the clubhouse,” Marcus says. “Once I made sure they hadn’t hurt Judge or your sister, I followed. I was a Ranger before I left the service. I used my tracking skills to find where they took her.”

“Why?” Gears narrows his eyes.

“Why what?” Marcus fires back.

“Why follow them alone instead of coming to us?”

“I care about Brydgett. About Judge,” he defends.

“If you cared so much,” Acid growls, “why didn’t you come get her alphas?”

Marcus slams his hand on the table. “Because I didn’t know if she was fully in. I didn’t know where she stood with you. I just wanted her safe.”

“You wanna fuck her?” Acid snaps.

“Absolutely not,” Marcus says immediately, looking horrified.

“What the hell, Marcus?” I shoot him a glare. “That’s rude.”

Marcus rubs a hand over his face. “Brydgett, I—I…”

“Spit it out.”

“When I got out of the service, I went home. Michigan.”

I freeze. “That’s where I’m from.”

“I know.”

“How?” My whole body is tight now. Ready.

He holds up a hand. “Just listen. I went home, started working odds-and-ends jobs for this little construction crew. One night, I saw one of those DNA ancestry ads. I always knew I was adopted. My parents—my adoptive dads—were amazing. I didn’t want to go digging until after they passed.

But I did the test. Found out who my birth parents were.

They were already gone. But I had a sister. She’d been adopted at fifteen.”

“Don’t.” My voice is a growl now.

“She was adopted by Tina and Earl Osbourne.”

“No.” I stand up so fast my chair scrapes back hard.

He stands too, hands raised but not close, not stupid.

“You’re my little sister. I called in every favor I could.

I found you. I didn’t know how to tell you.

So I stayed close. I played homeless. I wanted to be near you.

To watch your back. I figured Judge had to be from something bad; a single omega doesn’t just happen.

I didn’t know what to do except protect you the only way I knew how. ”

I don’t think. I move .

I walk those last steps and slap him across the face. Loud. Sharp. Everything in the room goes silent.

“Get out.”

“Brydgett—”

“I said get out . I need to process this. Right now, I’m thinking about stabbing the shit out of you. I want a DNA test to confirm it. But if you are my brother, I’d like to not kill my only living relative.”

His face crumbles, and he nods. “Okay,” he says quietly.

Georgia gives me a long look, then hugs me tight. She smells like cookies and old perfume. “Don’t stay mad, sweetheart,” she whispers. “He meant well. He’s a good one. And you know it. I’m proud of you, honey.”

“Thank you,” I mumble. She lets go and follows Marcus out.

The silence that fills the room after is heavy. Too still.

“You okay, Gidge?” Arrow asks.

“Yeah,” I say, too fast. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Not yet. I gotta work it out in my head.”

“Okay,” he says.

I exhale hard. “Can we eat? I want Thai.”

Acid smirks. “Yeah, Omega. We’ll get Thai.”

“We got other stuff to talk about anyway,” Gears adds, always business.

“Like what?”

“We can’t stay here,” he says. “We’ve got an omega. A kid. This is no place to raise a family. We need to start house hunting. We also need to discuss what your role is now, inside the club.”

I blink. “Just jumping into all of it, huh?”

“Yup.” Gears shrugs.

Arrow pulls out his phone and calls in the order to Thai Hut. I drop back into my chair as we start talking. Really talking.

“We want you in the club,” Acid says.

“That’s not exactly normal,” I point out.

Arrow shrugs. “So? It’s our club. You’re the Alpha Slayer. You can’t hold office, but we want you at Church. We want you in the loop. You deserve to know the plans. What’s happening.”

“Seems easy enough.”

Gears grins. “You need a road name.”

“Fuck no,” I shoot back.

“Gidge,” he says. “I think it fits.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

“They’re here.”

My chest gets all tight. Not the bad kind, not like panic. Just full. Like there’s too much in there and I can’t hold it all. Judge is here. My kid. My everything.

I rush to the door before anyone else can move, throw it open, and there he is, climbing out of Nitro’s truck with Bettie right behind him, one hand gripping his backpack, the other holding tight to the little stuffed Ghost Face he loves.

He’s looking around, eyes sharp and searching, just like mine.

He sees me and takes off running.

“Mom!” he yells, arms wide.

I kneel down in the gravel and catch him, hugging him so tight I probably crush his ribs, but he doesn’t complain. He just buries his face in my neck and breathes me in.

“You smell different,” he says.

I laugh, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “I’m sure I smell like the alphas. I missed you, baby.”

He pulls back and looks up at me, his eyes searching mine. “You’re okay? Really okay?”

I nod, brushing his hair back. “Yeah. I’m good. Better than good.”

He glances past me then, toward where Gears, Arrow, and Acid stand. They’re not crowding or trying to take over, just standing there, waiting, watching. Letting him decide.

“You sure you’re happy I bonded them?”

He nods, slower this time. “Yeah. They protected you. And me. I like them.”

That alone nearly knocks me over.

Judge walks with me toward them, holding my hand tight like he doesn’t want to let go again. I don’t blame him. I don’t want to let go either.

When we step up, he gives all three of them a simple, “Hey.”

It’s casual, but his little smile says everything. He’s home. He knows it. He turns to Gears first, tilting his head. “Do I have to call you Prez now?”

Gears lets out a short laugh. “Nope. Gears is fine. Or whatever you’re comfortable with. Whatever works for you, kid.”

Judge nods like he’s satisfied with that answer, then glances at Acid next.

“So, while I was gone, I kinda repeated some of the stuff you said. And Bettie washed my mouth out with soap.”

Acid grimaces. “Shit—sorry. I mean shoot. I’m really sorry, kid.”

Judge shrugs. “It’s okay. I know better now. Mostly.”

I snort and Judge turns to Arrow last. Arrow crouches down, holding out a fist like it’s just part of their routine.

“Glad you’re home, man,” he says.

Judge bumps it, all cool like they’ve done it a hundred times before. Then he looks at all three of them.

“So, are you my dads now?”

My chest squeezes so tight I can barely breathe. My fingers dig into the back of his shirt before I even realize I’ve moved. Part of me wants to protect him from the answer, and the other part is begging for them to say yes.

“If you want us to be,” Gears says.

“We’d be proud to.” Arrow smiles.

“We’re not here to take over anything,” Acid adds. “We just wanna be what you need.”

Judge doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at them, looking real serious, like he’s trying to figure this all out in his head first. Then he moves to Acid and hugs him. Arms locked around his middle like he means it. Like he trusts him. No fear. No hesitation.

“I need dads,” he says, voice small but steady.

Acid looks surprised for a second, then he wraps his arms around Judge real careful, like he’s afraid he’ll break him.

Like he’s holding something precious and doesn’t wanna mess it up.

Gears steps in next and folds them both up in his arms, and Arrow isn’t far behind.

The three of them just surround him. My kid. Holding him like he’s theirs too.

I take a step back without even thinking, just so I can look at them all together. Judge in the middle of them, safe and happy.

My son. My pack. All in the same place at the same time.

Judge looks over his shoulder at me, and he’s grinning, nose wrinkled, eyes squinty.

“I wanna stay forever,” he says.

I feel my throat close up, but I push the words out anyway. “You will,” I tell him. “You’re home now.”

Bettie’s apartment smells like garlic and onions and something warm I can’t name but somehow already love. Bettie took over the kitchen the second we all came back inside. Didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. Just rolled up her sleeves and told us to get the hell out of her way.

I didn’t argue. None of us did.

Judge sits on the counter, legs swinging, helping her and sneaking bits of cheese when she’s not looking. The guys are scattered around the room, talking low, relaxed in a way I haven’t seen yet. Like something finally clicked into place.

Dillon’s standing at the counter beside Judge, peeling potatoes badly…like, murder-the-potato kind of bad, and ranting about how unfair it is that she’s not allowed to own a flamethrower.

“Seriously,” she says. “Just imagine the possibilities.”

“You’re banned from lighters, Dillon,” Arrow mutters without looking at her.

“That was one time, and that dumpster needed to burn,” she snaps back, flicking a potato peel at him.

Judge laughs so hard he snorts, and I swear Bettie mumbles a prayer under her breath.

Dinner’s ready not long after. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls that are probably from the store, but Bettie put butter and garlic on them, so they’re officially magic.

We eat around the long kitchen table. The pack. My kid. My boys. Bettie. Dillon, who technically just became my sister-in-law, which is wild to think about. She’s Judge’s aunt now. We’re a whole ass family, apparently.

We eat around the table, and it’s not awkward or weird. It just feels easy. Normal.

“So,” Bettie says, pouring herself a glass of wine. “What’s the plan for school?”

I look at Judge, who’s shoving another forkful into his mouth. “He starts Monday,” I say. “Acid took care of it all before everything went to hell.”

“You nervous?” Dillon asks him, nudging his arm.

“A little,” he admits. “But it’s just a regular school, right?”

I nod. “Yup. No big deal.”

Arrow leans forward. “We’ll be around. You need anything, you call.”

“Or shout really loud,” Acid adds.

Gears gives him a look. “We’re not giving him a panic button.”

“Disappointing,” Dillon mutters, stealing a green bean from Acid’s plate like it’s hers. He lets her.

“What about moving out?” Bettie asks, real casual as she stabs a piece of meatloaf. “You guys actually leaving the clubhouse?”

“Yeah,” Acid says. “Soon. We’re gonna start looking for a place this week.”

“We want somewhere quieter,” Gears adds. “With space for him. For her.”

“For all of us,” Arrow says, squeezing my knee under the table.

“Boooooring,” Dillon fake coughs.

“Go live in a treehouse, then,” Acid tells her.

“I would,” she shoots back. “I’m still mad you guys wouldn’t let me live in the weapons shed.”

“It’s not a studio apartment, Dillon,” Arrow sighs.

I smirk and stab a bite of potato. This is chaos. But it’s mine.

“I’m staying here,” Bettie says, cutting through the noise. “The clubhouse is where I feel closest to your daddy. He built this with his hands. Every corner reminds me of him.”

“We understand,” Gears says. “This’ll always be your home.”

“Yup,” Acid agrees. “You’re welcome to come over anytime.”

“I will and you better bring Judge to visit,” she adds, pointing her fork at me like a warning.

“I plan on it,” I say.

Judge is grinning like an idiot. Dillon’s teasing him about school outfits and demanding he wear matching socks so she doesn’t get “family shame.” Arrow's trying not to laugh, and Acid’s pretending not to be proud of his little chaos twin across the table.

We finish eating slowly. Nobody’s in a rush to get up. Gears talks to Judge about bikes. Arrow shows Dillon how to properly crack her knuckles, which is disgusting and somehow bonding. Acid keeps sneaking food from my plate, but I let him.

And for the first time, everything feels right.

I didn’t know this was what I needed.

But now that I have it?

I’m never letting it go.