Chapter 223

Alyssa

After we finish singing happy birthday and help Zuri blow out the candle on her second personal birthday cake, the entire room erupts into cheers.

Bikers hoot and clap. My best friends cheer like drunk bridesmaids. Even Niko's parents, who I honestly didn't expect to come, are here, smiling like proud grandparents.

"Yay!" I beam, pressing a kiss to my baby's cheek while she sits in my lap.

Mason plucks the candle out just in time for Zuri to dive in with both hands. She grabs a fat handful of cake and shoves it into her mouth like she's been waiting for this very moment all day.

Frosting smears across her face, and we burst into laughter.

Her three daddies lean in, one after another, each planting a kiss on her frosting-covered forehead and telling her how much they love her with all the conviction in the world.

"Messy princess," Niko murmurs, chuckling as he brushes blue frosting off her tiny nose.

Once we settle down to eat real food—and the separate, wedding-sized Bluey cake that wasn't meant to be destroyed by toddler hands—I swear my heart could explode from how full it is.

Today has been perfect.

The guys went all out—with help from Sebastian and Nina—and threw a party so over-the-top, it would put any Pinterest mom to shame.

Zoo animals, themed snacks, matching outfits... the whole nine.

Just like they promised.

Honestly, I didn't think the club would be into the whole zoo thing.

But watching them today?

Some of these men looked more excited to feed the giraffes than the actual kids did.

It wasn't just sweet. It was... healing.

Like they were reliving something they never got to have.

Or maybe experiencing it for the first time.

And I loved every second of it.

So much I could fucking cry.

This morning, Dr. Summers officially cleared me from bed rest.

And we found out—we're having twin girls.

I thought the guys might be a little bummed. They were so convinced it'd be boys. But if they were even a little disappointed, they didn't show it.

They were just as thrilled.

Maybe even more.

And the biggest surprise of the day?

War showed up.

I didn't think he would. He's been completely MIA since the night he left.

No calls. No replies. Just silence—until now.

Now he's here.

Standing across the room like he's been here all along.

And I don't know if this is him staying for good, or if it's just one final goodbye.

Either way, I'm holding onto this moment with everything I've got.

I glance around the room, a quiet smile tugging at my lips.

Everyone came from the clubhouse. The bikers. The ol' ladies. Even a few kids I didn't know existed until today. And to my absolute shock, every single one of the clubwhores showed up.

Yep. Even Lauren.

They still don't really like me—especially after learning I didn't just claim one Reaper... I claimed three.

At first, I wasn't exactly thrilled about them being near my daughter. I've seen the jealousy in their eyes. The way they look at me like I stole something they never had a shot at.

But while Zuri was staying at the clubhouse with Nina, she must've sprinkled some kind of magic toddler fairy dust on them.

Because even the coldest, bitchiest ones?

They melted.

That's just what my baby girl does.

One smile, and people fall in love with her.

As the celebration carries on around us, I settle into King's lap, sinking into the steady rise and fall of his chest as he rubs slow, possessive circles over my belly.

Zuri's passed out in Niko's arms, soft little snores muffled by the fabric of his jacket.

Mason's pacing like he's on security detail, his sharp green eyes scanning every corner of the building for threats that probably don't exist.

At least, not now.

War stands off to the side with Hammer and Gator, talking with a few Reapers—but his eyes keep drifting back to me.

Like he wants to say something.

Like he's still deciding if he will.

I know he talked to the guys earlier, but I didn't bother asking what it was about.

Whatever it is, I want to hear it from him.

In his own words.

"Daddy," I murmur, nuzzling into the crook of King's neck. "I'm sleepy."

He hums low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my cheek as his fingers trail lazily up and down the inside of my arm—feather-light and torturously slow.

Each stroke sends sparks racing beneath my skin, heat pooling low in my core.

After two weeks of forced medical celibacy and a libido that refuses to shut the fuck up, every brush of his touch feels like foreplay.

And today?

That part has been a struggle.

Especially with the way all three of them have been strutting around in pink— proud as fuck, not caring who sees. Fully embracing their girl-dad era like it's the most badass club on the planet.

Fuck.

I want them inside of me the second we get home.

I squirm in King's lap with a soft whimper. "King."

"I know, kitten," he murmurs in my ear, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly place that ruins me. "Soon as we get home, I'm bendin' you over and takin' that sweet pussy for a ride."

A shiver dances down my spine, and I smirk against his throat.

"You've been a good, patient boy for me, haven't you?" I tease, my tone playfully smug.

They all have.

That first week was brutal, but every day after?

It got a little easier.

Mostly thanks to Ashley and Chelsea.

I told them about the no-sex pact Dr. Summers laid down, and they made it their personal mission to keep me distracted. They showed up every damn day to "hang out."

Meanwhile, working out and jogging became my guys' go-to coping mechanisms.

I've gotta say—Operation Cockblock was wildly successful.

"I've had the patience of a goddamn saint," King growls, kissing my earlobe. "Aren't you proud of me?"

"Yes," I whisper, my teeth sinking into my lip. "I plan on rewarding all of you. Especially for today. Everything you planned... it was perfect."

"Anything for my girls."

I grin. "And what a lot of girls you have now."

We'll finally outnumber them.

That should be fun.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss into my hair. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

My gaze shifts to Gray as he walks back into the room, flask in hand.

He disappeared a little while ago—and of course, I assumed he was drinking.

He's been doing that a lot lately.

Not enough to actually get drunk.

Just enough to feel nothing.

And it makes me hate Christine even more for ever stepping foot into his life.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ashley sauntering toward him, her hips swaying like she's starring in her own slow-motion movie trailer.

I shake my head, fighting a laugh.

Good luck, sis.

In the small chance that he does end up fucking her tonight to numb his pain, at least it's not a pill bottle or shots of whiskey he's reaching for.

Suddenly, someone clears their throat, and I look up to find War standing in front of us.

His intense, grey eyes are locked on mine.

"Can we talk?" he asks quietly, his voice low but steady.

None of the guys say a word.

I arch a brow, crossing my arms. "You finally ready to start talking some sense?"

I don't bother softening the bite in my tone.

The excuses he gave earlier? Bullshit. And they royally pissed me off.

He had no right to vanish like that.

No right to walk away from all of us without so much as a fucking fight.

I don't care what reasons he thinks he had—he was being a coward.

And if he thinks I'm too soft to call him out on it, he's clearly forgotten who the hell he's talking to.

He drags a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. "Just...c'mon, little psycho."

I hesitate for half a second—just long enough to feel the storm surge in my chest.

Part of me wants to slap him.

Another part wants to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

But mostly?

I want answers.

Real ones. No more guilt-drenched excuses. Just the truth.

So I ask King to help me up.

I don't say a word as I trail behind War, our boots crunching against the gravel path that leads away from the party.

The night air wraps around us—cool, quiet, a stark contrast to the heat and joyful chaos we just left behind. Distant animal calls echo from the zoo, leaves rustling in the breeze, laughter fading into the background.

It all feels miles away now.

We stop beneath the shadow of an old tree, tucked far enough from the building that no one can see us.

No audience. No distractions.

Just me and him.

I tug my club jacket tighter around myself. Mostly to fight off the chill. Partly to keep from reaching for him.

He doesn't turn right away. Just stands there with his hands shoved in his pockets like he's bracing for impact.

"Talk, I demand, eyeing the tension carved into his shoulders. "And I hope you've got more to offer than the last two weeks of silence you gave me."

He finally faces me, and the look in his eyes destroys me.

Regret. Shame. Something broken that he'd never show anyone else.

His jaw ticks hard before he speaks. "I don't fit into your world, Alyssa."

I open my mouth to argue, but he keeps going, steamrolling the protest before it can even form.

"Logan's still a threat. That'll never change. And the last night we saw each other, I fuckin' raped you."

The word cracks through the air like a whip.

"You can say I didn't all you want, but you had no choice but to let me fuck you in front of those bastards. It was either me or them. And no matter which way it ended, I knew I'd never be able to touch you again."

He looks away like he can't stand to see the look on my face.

Too bad for him—I'm not looking at him with anger. Or fear. Or disgust.

I'm looking at him like he's lost his goddamn mind.

"Are you serious right now?" I snap, my voice sharp enough to slice through the night. "You kept me safe. You kept me grounded the entire time. You made sure I stayed in control. And you—" my throat tightens, heat rushing to my face, "—you made sure I came."

I swallow, my heart pounding at the memory.

I fell apart on his cock, imagining it was him bending me over while my men watched.

Not Silas. Not his perverted minions.

Just him—shielding my body, protecting me with his life until backup arrived.

War grits his teeth. "You're givin' me too much damn credit, little psycho. If I hadn't come up with that plan in the first place, you wouldn't have gone through any of that shit."

"You didn't put me in that situation, War," I bite out. "Isaac did. Silas did. You were the one to find us a way to end it. You found a way to kill that sadistic fuck before he could do any more damage to my life."

I step forward and grab his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. "Now look at me—I'm happy. Off bed rest. Celebrating my daughter's birthday surrounded by people who truly care about us. A family I never imagined having, not after Isaac isolated me from the world."

"That future?" I whisper. "You helped make it possible."

For a heartbeat, he doesn't move. Doesn't speak.

Something flickers across his face.

Hope. Pain. Something dangerously close to surrender.

But then it fades, and his jaw clenches again.

He pulls away from my grip, shaking his head. "You always gotta see the best in people, don't you? That's your fuckin' problem. You keep lookin' at me like I'm some kind of goddamn savior when I know exactly what I am."

I narrow my eyes. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"A glitch in Logan's brain," he mutters bitterly. "These feelings I have for you... they were fuckin' useless from the start. I never should've let 'em fester."

My heart drops, sharp and sudden—like the worst slap to the face.

And that's saying something considering how many times I've experienced that.

I step back, the cold biting harder than it did a second ago. "So what?" I whisper, my voice cracking despite my best effort to keep it steady. "You regret loving me? After tonight, should I even expect to see you again—or are you disappearing for good this time?"

He lets out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course I don't regret loving you. I just... fuck, Alyssa. You're makin' this harder than it has to be."

"Well, let me make it easier for you."

I spin on my heel, ready to storm back inside, but I don't get far.

His hand catches my wrist, firm but careful, and before I can twist away, he tugs me back into him.

His mouth crashes against mine, and I barely have time to breathe before my back hits the tree.

But the kiss isn't rushed.

It's slow. Gentle.

Like he's not kissing me for now—but for every moment he knows he won't get later.

When he finally pulls away, his hands cradle my face as he stares deeply into my eyes.

"I need you to understand something," he murmurs, his thumbs brushing across my cheeks with aching reverence. "I can only love you safely from a distance. And I know that's not fair to you... but I'll never fuckin' risk your safety again."

My brows draw together. "War, don't-"

His expression shifts, hardening like he's locking the door before I can wedge my foot in. "I hope we can be friends after this."

Friends? Is he serious?

After everything we've survived—after all the times he's risked himself for me, kissed me, looked at me like I meant something to him—does he really think we can just downgrade?

Just pretend it never happened?

I want to scream. To shake him. To make him see how fucking ridiculous that is.

But I don't.

Instead, I swallow the burn clawing up my throat and give a single, stiff nod. Mechanical. Hollow.

If this is what he wants, fine.

But I won't let him walk away thinking he can never touch me again—because of something he should never have to carry as guilt.

Not when he saved me.

"Come home with us tonight," I breathe, steady despite the way my heart's cracking open.

His brows draw tight. "Alyssa—"

"For our friendship," I say, unwavering. "One night, that's all I'm asking for. Fuck me again. This time, with the right audience."

His breath hitches, and I see the war flash in his eyes—desire, shame, longing, restraint.

But this time, I'm not asking him to change his mind.

I'm offering him peace.

Closure.

Because if this is the end of us—if this is the last time we'll ever be this close—then I want him to remember what it felt to be wanted.

Not used. Not needed. Wanted.

Even if it's only for tonight.