I tilt my head, ignoring the comment about Wicked. No one will ever know Wicked except Royce, Khaos, Wolf, and me. And Lion. And Papa. It was strange to me that as I chanted the list off in my head, the lonely boy who killed his father and came to my house traumatized had built such a beautiful family around him. He was healing from his trauma.

If only we could all do that.

“Psyko is another member of the club, and half of Diane’s situationship.”

“Ahh… I, too, am in a situationship,” I joke, pouring the juice into a larger pitcher.

“Not like this.” Gracie snorts beneath her breath.

“Just because we are different and more open doesn’t mean we won’t last!”

“Oh no, that I believe!” June giggles, scooping up the plates. “Let’s go serve.”

I carry the pitcher as Diane leads us through the back doors where the morning sun directly hits your face. There’s a large rectangle outdoor table that stretches along the entire length of the building. Chairs are tucked beneath, with people sitting on each one, and there had to be over twenty. Kids, old and young, leather patch members, and then there’s Wicked at the head of the table, Wolf on his lap, and the sun behind his head. Everyone is still in their pajamas mostly, so I don’t feel uncomfortable dressed how I am. And even if they weren’t, I don’t think it would bother me then either. I feel safe here. The kind of safe I always feel around Wicked.

I’m paralyzed and I can’t move. The whole time I’ve been here, I’ve felt like my old self. Free, loved, welcomed. It’s being around the club that has made me realize how cold my home truly was. Unease stirs in my belly at that realization, but I make my way down to the side of the table, lowering myself to the right of Wicked.

“Hey,” I take Wolf off him and watch as he runs toward an area to the far opposite side. There’s a wooden playground built with a sandpit, a water play area, and fresh green trees and herbs. I can’t take my eyes off Wolf as he laughs with another couple of kids as they play.

A hand comes to my thigh and my eyes flick up to Wicked’s. Everyone is lost in their own conversation, so I know they’re not paying attention to my face right now, but Wicked’s brows knot together when he sees my face. “What?”