Epilogue
One month later
Royal
Leaving Gio sleeping soundly in my bed, I make my way downstairs to see what the damage is from the wild party that had been going down last night.
I’d officially made Gio my Old Lady yesterday; a celebration fit for any club president, his new lady and our club family, had been held long into the night.
Despite his words, I’m not sure if Grinder still has a simmering anger deep in his belly, not for Gio, but for me. One I can understand but thought had been resolved.
He knows I would never hurt his sister, or groomed her or any of that sick shit, but I can only guess the feeling he has of deceit and disrespect toward me still lingers.
Not so much as my club brother. More for the years of trust, brotherly love and bond we’d built from being kids.
An alliance formed from shared grief almost destroyed both of us.
A bond with cracks. Ones I hope are superficial, which can be repaired in time, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that.
It was two days after Grinder had verbally given me his consent to make Giorgia mine that I’d asked him to join me down in the cellar.
With the smell of bleach still lingering in the air, as his president, I ordered him to take a hit.
To do what he needed to do, so we could get our friendship back on the right track and our positions in the club restored respectfully.
He’d hesitated; his regard for club rules had him questioning himself, but he’d clenched his fist, pulled back his arm and made his first blow.
I took the punishment with only one thing on my mind, it was worth every cut, every bruise, if it meant I could keep both Gio and Grinder close.
Grinder could have really gone to town, and I wouldn’t have blamed him, but after one mighty punch to the face, giving me a cut lip and a bloody nose, three or four blows to the ribs, leaving a rainbow of bruises, he’d fucking hugged me. That was when I knew for sure we’d be okay.
My thrashing from Grinder was nothing compared to the verbal lashing he got from Giorgia, when she caught sight of me after, despite me assuring her I was okay with it. Everything was okay.
Since then, club life has been pretty much back to how it should be.
The regular runs have been going like clockwork.
The Saint’s garage is booked up solid for the next four months.
I’ve even caught Gio in there many times.
If she’s not talking pistons, crankshafts or clutch mechanisms, she’s sketching artwork for the custom projects.
She’s a fucking talented artist and wasted staring at numbers in her office job.
One thing I plan to change in the not-so-distant future.
With the way things are going with the garage, I’m sure it would benefit from her working there full time.
I take in the chaos that litters the communal space in front of me as I stand by the apartment door.
Boulder and Banshee are both laid on top of the pool table.
The only things they’re wearing are a naked Poppy and Cherry.
Not sure who is meant to be with whom as they’re just one tangled mess of legs and arms. A double twinning, so to speak.
Junk is asleep sitting up, his head tipped back, mouth wide and a loud rumbling snore.
I’m surprised it hasn’t woken up everyone in the whole fucking clubhouse.
Junk being Junk has his pants open, his shrivelled dick hanging limp, no doubt left like that after receiving a blow.
The table in front of him is littered with bottles, overflowing ashtrays and remnants of white powder, I’m sure my men would have indulged in while partying hard.
The whole place is a mess, but come afternoon, when everyone has slept off the liquor and drug-induced slumber, I’ll put them to work clearing this place up.
Gio and I had taken our private little party upstairs early.
The fucking had been out of this world. I had made it clear to her now that she was officially my Old Lady how much attention I would be bestowing on her.
So, I haven’t got a clue what else had gone on throughout the night while we were otherwise engaged.
I step over Hammer, who’s curled up in a ball, sleeping like a baby, and make my way over to the bar where I see Grinder nursing a beer bottle.
Despite all being good between us, at times I have caught Grinder with a vacant look on his face, his mind consumed by something he, up until now, has not divulged.
Not wanting to poke the bear in case he’s still holding onto a grudge, I’ve not questioned him.
But it’s blatantly clear something is tormenting him, and I can’t ignore it any longer.
“Bit early for that, ain’t it?” I comment as I slide into the seat beside him and point to the bottle in his hand.
“Not slept yet, so it doesn’t count,” he snickers, but the way his body is slumped in the seat, elbows welded to the bar, he’s anything but happy.
“You wanna talk?” I ask him, but he shrugs his shoulders.
“About what?”
“Whatever it is that’s turned you into a grumpy fucker.
” I get up and walk around to the other side of the bar and hit the start button on the coffee machine, thankful even with the events of last night, it’s been set up ready to go this morning.
“Are you still pissed about me and Gio? I figured you were fine with it now.”
“Hey, like I told you both, I’m seriously happy for you.”
“Then talk to me.” I place my hands flat on the bar and eyeball him. “A problem shared and all that? I wanna help you, brother, just tell me what it is that’s got you all tied up in knots.”
“She’s no one…” he shakes his head, realizing he’s slipped up. “I mean nothing.”
“She?” The coffee machine light goes off, telling me it’s good to go.
I grab two mugs and fill them with the thick black nectar.
“A woman?” I carry both mugs back around the bar, place one in front of Grinder before taking up my seat again.
I take a sip of the steaming liquid, burning my tongue in the process.
“Spill it, and I don’t mean the coffee.”
“It’s fucking stupid.” Is his response, shaking his head. He abandons the bottle and wraps his hands around the hot mug instead.
“It can’t be that fucking stupid if it’s got you all wound up. So, who is she?”
“That’s the problem. I didn’t get her name, a number, nothing. It was just a chance meeting in a hotel bar that ended up with me waking up in my hotel room alone. No idea where she went, who the fuck she is and how to get in touch with her.”
“Wow, she must have been one hell of a fuck if she’s left such a lasting impression on you.” I can’t help but snigger.
“That’s the thing.” He let go of the cup and palmed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure if we fucked or not. I’m damn sure she came back to the room, but other than that, I can’t remember.”
“So, what’s the problem? Just chalk it up to another emotionless hook-up in the world that is Grinder’s sex life.” I put my hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle pat of reassurance. “Unless the woman had such an impression on you that you don’t want it to be the end of it?”
“Fuck off.” He bites back his protest. “I just don’t like not knowing what happened. It’s driving me fucking insane.”
“Have you tried going back to the hotel, see if it’s a regular haunt for her?”
“Every possible chance in the last few weeks, but nothing. Even bribed the desk clerk to check out the hotel register, gave a description but no one can recall her, other than the bartender who was working on the night, and he’s not seen her since.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “She’s an enigma.”
“Then I can’t see what else you can do, other than forget her. Whatever happened in the room, it’s done, and nothing is going to change it.” I squeeze his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it.”
“I wish it was that simple,” Grinder groans back, “But for some reason I get a sickening feeling it’s not going to be so easy, and it’s only a matter of time until that night and meeting her, is gonna return to haunt me.”
The End.