Page 21 of Always My Fate

“Easy, baby,” he muttered as he pulled into the driveway. “We’re home. No more of that sterile hellhole.” They were almost at the house when he realized all the potholes had been filled in. Got me some good fuckin’ prospects.

He killed the engine, came around to her side, and scooped her up before she could even think about protesting. Peaches wrapped her arms around his neck with a soft laugh. “Blackie, I can walk.”

“Like hell you can,” he growled, carrying her up the porch steps like she weighed nothing. Her dark heavy curls brushed his cheek, and the familiar scent of her—citrus soap and warm woman—hit him hard. “You’re stayin’ off those feet until Daniel decides it’s time. Doctor’s orders, and mine. End of discussion, woman.”

The house smelled like home—kids’ laundry, fresh coffee, and a hint of a casserole the ole ladies had dropped off. He carried her straight down the hall to their master bedroom, which he’d turned into a recovery command center before leaving for the hospital. Extra pillows stacked high, a tray table beside the bed for her phone and water, the heating pad ready, and a baby monitor set up so she could hear the kids if they needed her.

He laid her on the bed gentle as he could, propping her up with pillows until she was half-reclining. “There. Perfect fuckin’ queen on her throne.”

The kids had been waiting, barely contained by Oaky and a prospect in the living room. They were now crowding the doorway, and at Blackie’s nod they piled in—Randi leading the charge with a careful hug, Tater right behind her looking equal parts worried and excited, Possum and Punkin bouncing with energy, and Lil Bit toddling over with sticky fingers, reaching for her momma.

“Careful,” Blackie rumbled, voice gruff but warm. “Your momma’s still healin’. Short visits only. Punkin, no jumpin’ on the bed. Lil Bit, easy on your momma’s belly.”

Peaches’ green eyes shone as she hugged each of them, murmuring soft reassurances and stroking hair. The room filled with chatter and giggles for a few precious minutes before Blackie herded them out. “All right, monsters. Let your mom rest. Randi, you’re in charge of keepin’ these hellions in line. Go on, outta here.”

Once the door clicked shut, the room fell quiet. Blackie sat on the edge of the bed, one big hand splayed across Charlotte’s belly. Relief crashed over him so hard it stole his breath.

“Goddamn, Charlotte,” he whispered, voice rough and raw. “Thought I was gonna lose my mind in that hospital. Bringin’ you home, seein’ you in our bed again, fuck. I’d like to go on the record askin’ you to not do that to me again. But you’re here. You’re safe. You and our boy.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, then kissed her slow and deep, pouring every ounce of gratitude and fear into it. “I swear on my patch, on each drop of blood I’ve spilled, on any drops in my body, that I’m making sure you both are safe. No more risks. I’ll chain myself to this house if I have to. Daniel’s our future. Those five wild ones out there, hell, this whole damn family. I ain’t lettin’ anything touch it. Not MDMC, not any other club bullshit, nothin’.”

Peaches cupped his scarred jaw, her touch steady and loving. Blackie closed his eyes, letting the relief settle deep in his bones.

For the first time in days, the knot in his chest loosened just a fraction.

She was home. They were together.

He’d protect this with everything he had.

***

Peaches

She adjusted the pile of pillows behind her back for the third time, attempting once again to find a position that didn’t make her feel like a useless invalid. The master bedroom was more like a prison cell than a recovery command center, no matter how many thoughtful touches Blackie had added. Downstairs, the low rumble of male voices drifted up—Blackie, Rook, and at least one other brother discussing club business. Something about perimeter checks and a suspicious vehicle near the edge of town.

She rubbed slow circles over her belly, and Daniel shifted and kicked in response. “I hear you, little man. Your daddy’s down there tryin’ to carry the whole world again.”

Her phone sat on the tray table beside a stack of untouched care package lists. She’d managed to send a few texts earlier, coordinating meal drops for a sweetbottom whose baby daddy had bailed again, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. The club family didn’t stop needing support just because she was stuck in this bed.

Peaches reached for her phone and started typing out a more detailed message to the old ladies group chat, assigning drivers and supplies. Her fingers moved quickly despite the persistent ache in her back. She added notes about Punkin’s upcoming preschool event and reminded everyone that Lil Bit’s favorite blanket was still at the clubhouse from the last gathering.

The voices downstairs rose for a moment—Blackie’s distinctive growl cutting through with a string of colorful profanity about “MDMC assholes.” Her jaw tightened. She should be down there. Listening. Advising. Helping hold everything together.

Instead, she was here. Sidelined.

A soft knock sounded on the door before Randi poked her head in. “Mom? Need anything?”

Peaches forced a warm smile for her oldest. “I’m good, baby. But could you bring me my laptop from the living room? And tell your daddy I want to talk to him when he’s got a minute.”

Randi hesitated, clearly torn between following Blackie’s strict “let your mom rest” orders and her mother’s quiet determination. Peaches gave her the look—the one that said she was still very much in charge—and Randi nodded before disappearing.

Minutes later, Blackie appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, brow furrowed. “Peaches. You’re supposed to be restin’.”

“I am resting,” she replied evenly, green eyes steady on him even as frustration simmered beneath the surface. “But the club doesn’t stop because I’m in bed, Kirk. Those women and kids downstairs need support. I can coordinate from right here. I’ve been doing it half-blind for years.”

She shook her phone slightly. “Already got two drivers lined up for tomorrow’s deliveries and made sure Tammy has a place to stay if things get bad at home again. I’m not made of glass, Blackie. And everything’s stable for now. The doc wouldn’t have let me leave the hospital if the new meds didn’t have the condition trending in the green. Let me help. It’s the only thing keeping me sane.” She lifted her chin. “Please?”

Blackie’s jaw worked, the protective growl building in his throat, but she saw the flicker of pride in his eyes too. Peaches reached out a hand towards him, her voice softening but no less resolute.