Epilogue
Abel
February 2024
One month later
We were married three weeks later in a nice outdoor ceremony with our families present. Her mom and dad, as well as Camden and Travis along with my motorcycle family.
The moment we said ‘I do’, I was on her like there was no tomorrow.
It seems like with this pregnancy, I’m the one that’s insatiable.
I need to be balls deep inside her at least three times a day, or more. Whether it was her mouth or her sweet pussy, I just needed… Her.
Just thinking about her has my dick hard, ready to feel her walls milking me for all I’m worth.
It’s all ruined in a matter of seconds.
Santiago barges into my office at The Underground without knocking. “We have a fucking problem.” He growls, perching on the edge of my desk.
Pulling out the letter some kid slithered inside and hand delivered to me I agree, “You’re fucking right we have a problem,” and toss it to him. While he’s opening it up, I continue. “Has there been any more of that washed money surfacing around here?”
“Yes, I got a hold of a few bills and took them to be analyzed. In very small detail, a symbol is stamped in the bottom corner.” He slips a paper on my desk.
Picking it up, holding it towards the light for a better look, I swipe the envelope off my desk and hold them side by side. “It’s the same as that letter. Read it.” I urge him.
His eyes scan it, reading each word. The crease in his brow tells me he’s gotten to the threat against my family. “Do they honestly think they can mess with our family? What kind of name is Sprocket?”
“This person is affiliated with The Scavengers. Did you get to the part about me killing their brother, and how I crossed a line by doing so. They go on to say they aren’t the only ones that want my blood and if the way to me is through my family… So be it.”
“Do you think this is real?”
“Oh, it’s definitely real. Tark, Saxon, get in here!”
They come barreling in. “What up?”
“Tell my father-in-law the latest news.” I say to them.
“We’re being watched. Nothing has happened so far, and we want to keep it that way, but we need extra men in order to figure out who’s behind this.” Saxon says.
“We know their leader calls themself Sprocket, but that’s about it.” Tark adds. “We also believe they are the ones producing the counterfeit money.”
“I’ve been so wrapped up in my home life, that I’ve been neglecting my duties as the Club President.” I grunt, banging my hand on the desk. “Get my wife and daughter each a bodyguard and a couple of guard dogs. Same goes for the ol’ ladies and The Sandlot. Until we find these fuckers, I don’t want anyone left alone.”
It’s time I put my foot down and stop dicking around.
“Santiago, your wife is hiding something. I want to know what it is? How did she magically turn up, but she’s never around when you need her. Her disappearing act isn’t fooling anyone.”
“I have no idea what you mean. We do not speak unless it concerns our daughter or granddaughter. She left us, and I left Ivy. I still haven’t made peace or forgiven myself for what I’ve done.” Santiago admits.
Just then, the club phone begins to ring. Hitting the speaker button, I answer, “Hello?”
“Hello, Abel. I hear you’re wanting to try and take down what took me years to build.” Someone says, speaking through a voice changer. “It’ll take you more time than you have to catch me. In the meantime, I suggest you don’t bring your wife back into my hospital to have your baby, otherwise, I may have to steal and raise him as a Scavenger.” The way this person laughs is meant to instill fear inside me, but all it does is make me fucking mad.
“You hide behind a phone with a voice changer so nobody will hear what you really sound like. When you’re done playing games, you fucking know where I’ll be.” I end the call, not giving this piece of shit another second of my time.
Next thing I know, mine and Santiago’s cell phones begin to play a short tune, signifying an incoming text message. Reaching over to grab my iPhone, I flip it over to see an image from an unknown caller.
“Did you get the same text?” Santiago asks.
“Yeah.” I don’t wait for him to click on the message. “It’s not an image, but a video.”
“Play it.” He demands, moving around my desk so he can see it. A building comes into view, clearly showing the name of the place. “That’s my restaurant.” Was his restaurant. It goes up in flames shortly after.
“I hope you like your little present because this is only the beginning.” Sprocket says, and then the video goes black before it cuts off.