Page 57 of Friar
She shook her head, stubborn even now.“We did it together.Everything.From the beginning.”
As I watched my woman cradle our son, I knew she was right.Everything we’d endured had led to this moment.This perfect, impossible moment that I would protect with my life.
* * *
I carried my son down the hospital corridor, his weight almost nothing in my arms yet somehow the heaviest responsibility I’d ever held.The bundle of blue blankets barely moved, his tiny face peaceful in sleep, unaware of the world waiting to meet him.Behind me, a nurse hovered anxiously, probably concerned about the newborn in the hands of a man with tattoos crawling up his neck.But my grip was sure, my steps careful.Nothing in this world would make me drop this child.
The lobby doors swung open, and I stepped through to find it transformed.What should have been a sterile waiting area had become a sea of leather cuts and denim, the familiar patches of the Reckless Kings claiming the space as if they owned it.My brothers had come, all of them, filling the uncomfortable plastic chairs and lining the walls.The smell of cigarettes clung to them despite hospital rules, their boots marking the pristine floor with dirt from the road.
Beast spotted me first, rising from a chair that seemed too small for his massive frame.The others followed his gaze, conversations dying mid-sentence as they noticed the blue bundle in my arms.For a moment, no one moved.These men, who faced down rival gangs without flinching, who’d killed for the club and would die for it too, seemed frozen by the sight of something so small and innocent.
“Brothers,” I said, my voice rougher than I expected.“Meet my son.”
Beast approached first, his steps unusually tentative.He stopped before me, looking down at the bundle with an expression I’d never seen on his face before, something like awe.
“He’s got your eyes,” Beast said as he studied the baby’s face.The gentleness in his tone surprised me.This was a man who could break bones with his bare hands, yet here he was, speaking softly to avoid disturbing an infant’s sleep.
“Poor kid,” Forge joked, coming to stand beside Beast.His face cracked into a rare smile as he peered at my son.“Hopefully he gets his mother’s everything else.”
The others crowded around, leather creaking as they leaned in for a better look.Nugget hung back slightly, hands shoved deep in his pockets, an awkward half-smile playing on his lips.When he caught me watching, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Congrats, man,” he mumbled.“Kid looks strong.”
“’Course he’s strong,” Nigel added, punching Nugget’s shoulder.“Look who his old man is.”
Whisper pushed her way through the wall of men, her normally stern face softening as she gazed at the baby.“He’s beautiful, Friar,” she said, reaching out to touch his tiny hand with one finger.“Absolutely perfect.”
Leigha appeared beside her, phone already out.“We need pictures,” she insisted, the device clicking rapidly as she captured image after image.“First baby deserves proper documentation.”
I shifted the bundle in my arms, adjusting my hold so they could see him better.My son’s eyes opened briefly at the movement, blue irises blinking up at the circle of unfamiliar faces before sliding closed again.Even that small gesture sent a surge of pride through me that was both foreign and intoxicating.
A pair of hospital staff paused near the reception desk, eyes widening at the sight of so many leather-clad bikers clustered around an infant.The older nurse whispered something to her younger companion, who stared openly at the transformation of intimidating men into gentle admirers.I caught fragments of their exchange -- “motorcycle club” and “never seen anything like it” -- before they hurried away, glancing back over their shoulders.
“How’s Cheri doing?”Beast asked, his hand landing heavily on my shoulder -- the uninjured one.The genuine concern in his voice reminded me why he led the club, why we all followed him without question.He cared, beneath all that hardened exterior.
“Exhausted,” I replied.“But strong.Always strong.”
Cheri had endured more in the past year than most people faced in a lifetime.She’d survived multiple attempts on her life, had faced down club politics, had carried and delivered our child with a strength that still humbled me.
“Club’s got your back,” Beast said, his words carrying the weight of an oath.“Whatever you need.Both of you.All three of you,” he amended, nodding toward the baby.
The others murmured agreement, a chorus of support that washed over me with unexpected force.These men, bound by choice rather than blood, had become the family I’d never thought to have.They’d stood with us through Tasha’s attempts to destroy what we’d built, had hunted her down when she threatened what was ours, had delivered justice in the only way we understood.
“Time to get the little man back to his mom,” the hovering nurse interrupted, her professional smile strained as she eyed the gathering of bikers.“She’ll be wanting to feed him soon.”
I nodded, understanding the unspoken message.The club’s presence was making the hospital staff nervous, no matter how well-behaved they were being.Beast caught it too, exchanging a look with me before turning to the others.
“All right, brothers,” he announced.“Let’s clear out, give the new family some space.Plenty of time to corrupt the kid later.”
Laughter rippled through the group, easing the tension.One by one, they clapped me on the back, offered final congratulations, promised to check in later.The lobby emptied gradually, boots echoing on tile as they filed out toward the parking lot where their bikes waited.
“We’ll have a proper celebration when you bring him home,” Beast said, the last to leave.“Whisper and Lyssa are already planning it.”
“Thanks, brother,” I replied, the words inadequate for the depth of what I felt.“For everything.”
He nodded once, understanding what I couldn’t say aloud, then followed the others out into the bright morning sunlight.
I carried my son back through the maze of corridors to Cheri’s private room.She was propped up against pillows, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, face scrubbed clean of the sweat and tears of labor.Even exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and hospital bracelets circling her wrists, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
