Torch grins faintly. “Also, you beat the life out of Lattimer. It’s hard not to respect a man for that.”
Dagger shrugs. “And Syvannah looks at you like she trusts you more than sunlight. That says it all.”
Blayze points a finger. “But if you ever pull another secret that big, I am duct-taping you to your own damn bike.”
Bones snorts. “You would need three rolls at least.”
The room starts moving again, the tension bleeding out like a wound finally pressed shut.
Capone knocks his gavel once on the table. “Put it to a vote.”
Trigger raises his hand. “Keep him where he is.”
Torch lifts his. “Keep.”
Blayze. “Keep.”
Bones. “Keep.”
Dagger. “Keep.”
Red appears late in the doorway, holding a coffee. “What are we voting on?”
Capone doesn’t blink at Red’s sudden appearance. “Tiny’s past,” he answers.
Red snorts. “Keep him. He feeds the strays.” The room laughs.
Capone turns back to me. His voice is level, but the weight behind it lands like peace. “You belong here, Tiny. Scars and all.”
Something light breaks open in my chest. Something I haven’t felt in years. “Thank you.” The words come from a place so deep I barely recognize my own voice.
Capone nods once, slamming his gavel. “Church dismissed.”
When Church adjourns, the room comes to life with movement and sound. Chairs scrape, and brothers clap me on the shoulder as they pass. A few quiet words of support. No lectures. No conditions, just family and acceptance.
I stand slowly, the weight I carried for years finally lifting. When I step outside, the air feels different, cleaner, and easier to breathe.
Syvannah is back from her appointment, leaning against the railing by the bikes, arms folded loosely, eyes on the sky. Peanut is nowhere in sight. She looks at me when she hears my boots.
“How’d it go?” she asks.
I stop in front of her. “I told the truth.”
Her lips curve into a soft smile. “That usually helps.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “Turns out.”
She studies my face, searching. “You okay?”
For the first time in a long time, the answer comes easily. “Yeah, I am.”
Syvannah steps closer, resting her forehead against my chest. Not asking, not taking, just being here.
I wrap my arms around her, careful yet sure. “How was therapy?”
She exhales, her hot breath against my shirt. “Hard, but… good.” I kiss the top of Syvannah's head, and she sighs against me. “I’m proud of you.”
The words hit deeper than any cheer or shout ever could. For the first time in a long fucking time, I don’t feel like I’m standing between two lives. I feel exactly where I’m supposed to be.