Page 46 of Triplets for the Rival MC

Tori laughs, an unguarded, genuine sound, and Screw strolls over to her, giving her a friendly hug and the guys a clap on the shoulder. He gestures to her belly. “Three at once, huh? Overachiever.”

Cyrus steps forward as if he might deck him. These babies have brought out his protective side.

Tori squeezes Cyrus’s hand to let him know it’s okay and grins. “Jealous?”

“I’d prefer three babies in three different babes,” Screw fires back. “Seems we’ve got that in common, needing more than one person to handle us,” he says with a wink.

There’s a tense moment as he wonders if he’s gone too far, but then Tori laughs, throwing her head back. “You’ve got me there!”

Hunter and Cyrus burst out laughing and jostle with him while Tori shakes her head ruefully at them, roughhousing like kids. The room roars again, breathing a collective sigh of relief.

God, I love this chaos.

My eyes meet hers across the room, and she smiles, beckoning me over with a tilt of her head. Like a magnet, drawn to her, I move, weaving through brothers slapping my back, offering congratulations, and clapping shoulders. The weight of leadership is always there; it’s constant, but tonight it feels balanced by something softer. Family. Brotherhood. Camaraderie.

Shelly stands near the bar, watching Tori like a proud sister. The two of them have grown close over the past few months. Shelly was there when Tori first found out about the pregnancy. She’s been a steady presence since, helping Tori in ways we can’t and being there when club business pulls us away. I’ll be eternally grateful to her for it. When I reach Tori, she looks up at me, and everything else fades.

“You ready?” I ask quietly.

She nods, swallowing once. “Yeah.”

I brush my thumb over the curve of her stomach before I can stop myself. I still can’t believe that she’s carrying our children, my child. Three babies. I feel like pinching myself at our good fortune.

I nod at Cyrus, letting him know it’s time. He moves to the front of the room and whistles sharply. The noise cuts through the hubbub and conversation, and our brothers gather closer. Chairs scrape, boots thud against the floor, glasses chink.

I step up onto the low platform near the bar, a makeshift stage we use for meetings and ceremonies. Hunter and Cyrus flank me. Tori stands between us. The sight hits me like a punch as I realize how perfectly she fits here. She belongs; she was destined to be our old lady, even before we knew.

I clear my throat. “Brothers and sisters,” I begin, voice carrying easily across the room. Years of command make it natural. “Tonight’s about officially making Tori our old lady and letting everyone know she’s under the protection of the Ghost Riders.”

A cheer rises. Feet stamp, hands clap, glasses chink together. Shelly cheers the loudest. I let the noise settle back down to a quiet murmur before I continue.

“She can’t help who her father is, and she’s stood by us through thick and thin, through shit most people wouldn’t survive, and proved her loyalty again and again.” My eyes flick briefly to Screw and Hank. “If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have rescued those women from her father’s clutches.”

“Too right, brother,” Screw says, nodding in Tori’s direction.

I continue. “She didn’t ask for the life she was born into. And she sure as hell didn’t choose the war her father started. But she chose us.” That quiets them. “And we choose her.”

Hunter rests his hand over hers. Cyrus mirrors him.

“She carries our future,” I say, voice roughening slightly despite myself. “Three strong little Ghost Riders already raising hell.”

The room erupts again. I raise a hand, and a hush descends.

“The war with the Raging Bulls isn’t over, far from it.” The mood shifts subtly, their laughter fading into focus. “We’ve made some progress, pushed them back on supply routes, taken control of two of their drop points, and saved those women. But they’re not done.” I scan the room. Every face looks back at me. “They haven’t tried to hit the clubhouse yet,” I continue.

“I’d like to see them try!” someone in the back yells, this is met with jeers and shouts of agreement.

I hold my hand up to silence them once more. “All that tells me is that they’re waiting for the right time to strike, that they’re planning something big.”

A few nod grimly.

“We need to stay alert; we can’t let overconfidence be our downfall. We will win, but the Raging Bulls are a formidable enemy that we shouldn’t underestimate. From now on, we rotate watches more tightly; no one moves alone at night. Protecting our women and children is the priority. King isn’t above fighting dirty and targeting the most vulnerable.” My gaze drifts briefly to Tori’s belly. I would do anything to protect her, to protect the lives she grows inside her. “If they come for this place,” I say evenly, “We’ll be ready.” The weight of that promise settles heavily in the air.

I turn away from the crowd toward Tori. “You’ve already proven yourself,” I tell her softly, but loud enough for all to hear. “You’re strong. You’re loyal. And you’re ours.”

Hunter hands me the Ghost Riders’ vest all the old ladies wear. The leather is fresh, the smell comforting. The patch is stitched clean and bold. I step behind her, sliding it over her shoulders. It fits perfectly. The room explodes in applause and cheers. She exhales shakily.

I step back to face her. “Welcome to the Ghost Riders family, Tori.”