Page 54 of Doc
“I came to you because of my uncle,” I began, my voice steadier than I’d expected.“Because my mother’s notes led me here when I had nowhere else to turn.I didn’t understand what this club was then.What brotherhood meant to you.I do now.”
Looking around the table, I met each man’s gaze briefly before continuing.“I’ve seen how you protect your own.How you stand together against threats.How you risked everything to bring down evil men who were hurting innocent girls.I don’t ask for a place here lightly, and I know what it means to you, what it meant to my uncle.I would honor that legacy, that trust, if you choose to extend it to me.”
I paused and licked my lips.“And more importantly, I love Doc and I want to be with him more than anything.The thought of having to walk away, to leave and never see him again, tears me apart inside.”
Savior nodded once, seemingly satisfied, then looked around the table.“If there are objections, speak now.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as I waited, each second stretching painfully as I braced for rejection.But the silence held, unbroken by dissent.After what felt like eternity, Savior nodded again, more decisively.
“Step forward,” he instructed, gesturing to a spot directly before the table.
I took my place before the club, facing their President across the scarred wooden surface where generations of members had made decisions that shaped their brotherhood.In that moment, I felt the presence of those who had come before -- my uncle among them, perhaps watching, perhaps proud of his only niece standing before his brothers.
“Nova Treemont,” Savior said, his voice carrying the gravity of official declaration.“You stand before this club as blood of our brother.You have proven your loyalty, your courage, your understanding of what we stand for.The vote must be unanimous for you to be recognized as Property of Doc, his official old lady and under the protection of this club.All those in favor, raise your hands.”
I held my breath, my gaze fixed on Savior rather than watching the hands that would determine my future.But I could sense the movement around the table, could feel the shift in the atmosphere as arms were raised.Savior counted silently, his expression giving nothing away.
Then, finally, he nodded, a small smile breaking through his official demeanor.“The vote is unanimous,” he declared, bringing the gavel down with a sharp crack that seemed to echo through my very bones.“Welcome to the family, Nova Treemont.”
Tears burned behind my eyes as I stood before the table, the weight of their unanimous acceptance pressing against my chest until I could barely breathe.
Saint stood from his position at Savior’s right hand, moving to a cabinet against the wall.When he turned back, he held something I hadn’t expected -- a leather cut, smaller than the men’s versions but unmistakable in its design.The back patch featured the same reaper emblem the members wore, but with subtle differences I couldn’t quite make out from where I stood.
“As Property of Doc,” Savior continued, “you’ll be under his protection and the protection of every man at this table.Your battles become our battles.Your enemies, our enemies.And our family becomes your family.”
Saint approached with the cut, and I noticed Doc moving to stand beside me, his presence solid and reassuring.With ceremonial precision, Saint held the leather cut open, allowing Doc to take it from him.The weight of the moment settled over me as he stepped behind me, holding the cut for me to slip my arms into.
The leather was cool against my skin, heavier than I’d expected as it settled onto my shoulders.I glanced down, noting the patches sewn onto the front -- “Property of Doc” on the right side, “Dixie Reapers” on the left.But it was the back patch that mattered most, the one I couldn’t see but knew marked me as belonging to this world now, to these men and their code.
“Wear it with pride,” Doc said softly, his hands lingering on my shoulders after adjusting the cut.“It means you’re never alone again.”
The simple promise broke something loose inside me.Weeks of grief and fear and desperate searching for justice -- all of it crystallized in this moment of belonging, of finding a place I hadn’t even known I was looking for.I blinked rapidly against the moisture gathering in my eyes, determined not to cry in front of these hardened men who had just accepted me as their own.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice shakier than I would have liked as I looked around the table.“I promise to uphold what this stands for.To honor what it meant to my uncle.”
Venom raised his glass in a silent toast, the others following suit.The ceremonial solemnity of the moment softened as Savior nodded once more, satisfied.
“That concludes our official business,” he announced, bringing the gavel down one final time.“Let’s celebrate our newest family member.”
The formal atmosphere dissolved immediately, men rising from their seats with the relaxation of a duty completed.Everyone left the room, and we gathered in the common area once more.Glasses clinked as bottles were passed around, the tension of the vote giving way to the easy camaraderie these men shared when official business was done.I stood rooted to the spot, still processing the weight of the leather on my shoulders, the significance of what had just happened.
Tempest clapped Doc on the back as he passed, his massive hand nearly sending my still-healing partner stumbling.“Take care of her, Doc… Then again, she might end up taking care of you instead.”
Others approached, offering gruff congratulations or simple nods of acknowledgment.Each interaction, however brief, reinforced what Savior had declared -- I was family now.Protected.Accepted.No longer the outsider looking in but part of the fabric of this world.
“I never expected this.When I came here with my mother’s notebook, I just wanted justice.I never thought I’d find…” I trailed off, unable to fully articulate the transformation of these past weeks.
“Family?”Doc’s hand tightened around mine.“A home?”
“You,” I said simply, turning to face him fully.“I never thought I’d find you.”
His free hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear in a gesture that had become achingly familiar.“I’d take another bullet for you.Without hesitation.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.I’ve grown rather attached to having you alive and mostly intact.”
His smile was slow and warm, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made him look younger.“Mostly intact works for me, as long as I get to keep you.”
The possessiveness in his voice should have bothered me -- would have, once.But in this new world I’d entered, where belonging carried different weight and meaning, it felt right.I was his, as declared by the patch on my cut.But he was mine too, in ways that went deeper than leather and patches could express.
