Chapter Twenty-Four
Pops
Closing the lid on my grill, I turn and look at my family. And what a family it is. Not very long ago, it was just me, my wife, and my six children. Not all of them blood. Now, the Obsidians have grown into a massive club, and each of them has a family of their own. The faces around me are familiar, but there’s something different now. Something that wasn’t there in the beginning. These men, these women, these kids, they’re mine in ways I never thought possible. We built something here. Something bigger than bikes and leather patches.
“It’s what we’ve always dreamed of,” my wife, Vicki, says with a smile that reaches her eyes. “A large family. I just wish Viper, Bitsy, and that baby were here.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “It’s hard for Cap to give them up,” I say. “But I get it.”
Vicki hums in agreement, but there’s a sadness in her voice that lingers. She misses those three. I do, too. We’ll have to take a trip up there soon to visit.
“Evie’s coming over,” I whisper, knowing she might not realize who it is.
Victoria has a mild case of face blindness, like Raven. When we found out about Raven’s condition, Vicki was shocked. It’s such an unusual diagnosis that having two people in one family with it is remarkable. But Vicki? She’s never wanted anyone to know. Luckily, she’s able to work around it pretty easily.
“I know,” she tells me.
“How?” I ask.
She sighs, clear frustration on her face. “She doesn’t have one of her legs, Robert.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it, and I lean down to kiss her head, feeling the warmth of her curls against my lips.
“No need to be a smartass, woman,” I tease, but there’s nothing but love in my voice. She’s always been my rock.
Shaking her head with that knowing smile of hers, Vicki heads out to meet Evie halfway.
Ghost steps up next to me, handing me a beer. I take it without hesitation, the cool bottle settling comfortably in my hand. He’s looking at me with that look. The one I’ve seen on every man who’s ever stood in my shoes. That look of respect.
“Thank you, Pops,” he says, his voice steady.
“What on earth for, son?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“For teaching us to be good men,” he answers, and for a moment, he’s just quiet, letting the weight of his words settle between us. “We wouldn’t understand the value of family if it wasn’t for you. You brought most of us into your home. Into your heart. You taught us right from wrong. You taught us to stick together. You’re a hero, Pops. All of this,” he gestures to the large group of men, women, and children that have gathered around, “is because of you.”
I take a long pull from my beer, my gaze shifting over to the faces that fill the yard. The kids are running around, their laughter echoing in the air. The men are standing together, talking shop, but every now and then, their eyes flick to their families, that quiet pride shining through. The women, strong and steady, are exchanging stories and jokes, but there’s a softness in their smiles that comes from belonging. It’s a damn good feeling.
But I didn’t do it alone. It was all of us together. We created this, every single one of us.
“None of this is just me, son,” I say, my voice rough. Ghost looks at me, waiting for more, but I shake my head. “I’m just the guy who kept the door open. The one who said, ‘You’ve got a place here if you want it.’ The real work? That’s all you guys. You fought for it. You fought for each other. You fought for the family we are now.”
Ghost nods, his jaw tightening. He’s been one of the hardest, most loyal men I’ve ever known, but even he can’t hide the emotion that tightens his throat.
“You’ve given us everything we needed, Pops,” he says quietly. “I just... I want you to know that.”
I clasp him on the shoulder, my grip firm. “I don’t need thanks, Ghost. All I’ve ever wanted is for you guys to be here, to build something better than the bullshit we all came from. Something to be proud of.”
He looks at me, really looks at me, like he’s seeing me for the first time in a long time. It’s humbling.
“I’m proud, Pops,” he finally says. “More than you’ll ever know.”
I smile at him, but my eyes wander back to the rest of the group. Vicki’s talking with Evie now, and I can see the ease in her gestures and the way she comforts Evie without even trying. It’s like she’s always known how to take care of people.
The rest of the men are drifting over to join us, their families close by. They all gather together, this circle of people who never would have met if it hadn’t been for the club. I watch them all, this wild, beautiful family we’ve created, and I realize, maybe for the first time, that this is what I’ve dreamt of my entire life. More than bikes, more than the club. I wanted this feeling.
Family. Home.
And we’ve built it together, piece by piece.
“Look at them, Pops,” Ghost says, his voice quieter now. “You did that. You gave us this.”
I look out over the group, the people who were once strangers but are now as much a part of me as my own blood. It’s everything I could’ve ever hoped for.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “We did.”
It’s never been about the echoes of life, the things we hear but never truly listen to. It’s about the echoes we leave behind. The ones that resonate within us and ripple through the lives we touch.
I glance at Ghost, then back at the faces surrounding us.
“Echoes of temptation,” I say, my voice steady, “are what brought so many of us to the edge of darkness. But it was the echoes of fear that pushed us to fight for something better.”
Steel steps closer, his face as stoic as ever, but there’s an understanding in his eyes. Blaze is beside him, his easy grin replaced by something more serious.
“Echoes of obsession nearly destroyed some of us,” I continue, my voice thickening, “but it’s the echoes of danger that made us who we are. Fighters, protectors, survivors.”
Ghost shifts, the weight of my words sinking in as I look out over this family of mine.
“And the echoes of desire,” I say, my gaze landing on Vicki, who’s still laughing with Evie, “are what kept us holding on, even when it felt like everything was slipping away.”
There’s a hush now, the kind that settles deep, like the calm before a storm.
“But at the end of it all,” I say, turning back to Ghost, my voice soft but firm, “it’s the echoes of truth that define us. The truth of who we are, what we’ve built, and who we’ve fought to become.”
I set my beer down and let my eyes drift over the group one more time. The kids playing, the men standing together, the women watching over it all like anchors in a storm.
“This is my truth,” I say, my voice breaking just a little. “You’re all my truth. My family. My legacy. And no matter what happens, these echoes will live on within each of you.”
For a moment, no one says anything. Then Ghost claps me on the shoulder, his grip solid, a silent acknowledgment of everything I’ve just said.
The echoes of their voices, their laughter, their love, it’s all around me now, filling the air and my heart.
And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that these echoes will never fade.
They’ll carry on long after I’m gone.
They’ll carry us all home.
The End