Epilogue
BONNIE
ZEB
Dude. Let’s go.
Are you two asleep or fucking?
Zeb’s messages make me chuckle. Still, I toss my phone onto the bed without replying.
I’m too busy breaking in the Christmas present Gemma gave me this morning.
It’s December 27 th , and we’re at the same cabin where Mads and Andi got married last year. Coming here is a new tradition we started this year—spending the week between Christmas and New Year’s together, just the band and spouses.
Gemma and I arrived early this morning on a red-eye flight from LA. We spent a few days before Christmas and Christmas Eve with her family, then Christmas and the day after with my dad. After being around so many people for days, this morning was nice to have all to ourselves.
I still can’t get over that I get to love her every day.
And I get to do it without looking over my shoulder.
“Oh god, Bonnie,” Gemma cries, her jaw sagging, back arching.
I slide the strap-on cock into her again and again. The grinder on the base pushes against my clit when I do, and I suck air through my teeth. Shit, this is so much better than only fucking her with the harness. The grinder adds so much, makes this ten times more intimate…
And I love looking at her like this.
Since the attack, she’s been ordered to “take things easy,” and I’m enjoying every second of it. She keeps telling me New Year’s Day is the day I’m getting all of this back tenfold, and I cannot wait.
I bend and capture her lips, hands squeezing her tits. She grabs my ass harshly, and when she groans out my name again, I increase my pace. Every time I move, my knees weaken a little more, my own orgasm rising with hers. Her hands are everywhere as I kiss down her neck and take her nipples into my mouth one-by-one.
“Bonnie—Bon—god, right there—shit—”
Sweet fucking music.
Her pussy sings for me. She’s so wet. I want to taste it and feel it on my own soaking pussy all at once.
She yanks me by my hair and pulls me up to her mouth again. “Sit on my face,” she says against my lips.
I chuckle. “I thought we were playing with gifts,” I argue.
“I want to taste you,” she says, licking my tongue.
“Hm… Come for me first, babygirl. Then, you can have me.”
I settle back then, and she holds her arms out for me to brace my hands against, and I rail into her hard. Shit, I love that look on her face. The way she bites her lip and closes her eyes, her cheeks darkening as that climax rises and rises. I reach between us and slip my middle finger inside her against the dildo, thumb along her clit. She jerks when my finger curves against her spot, and as I pump inside her, her pussy tightens gloriously.
Her hands squeeze me when she comes—the relief and dopamine rushing over her face.
Thank fuck for the splash pad beneath us this time.
I lean over and kiss her hard, removing the dildo from inside her. She whimpers into my mouth at its absence, and I eventually have enough mind to get off the bed so I can slip the harness off.
Gemma watches me with bated breath. She swallows and licks her lips. I have to take five seconds to touch her cunt when I make my way back onto the bed, and she grabs my arms the second my thumb flicks over her sensitive nerves.
“On my face,” she says, practically dragging me up the bed.
I chuckle as I give in. My knees settle by her head, and fuck… the way she looks at my wet pussy makes me feel like she was once saved by it.
Her finger drags over my clit, making me suck in a sharp breath. “This pussy is so pretty,” she says before her tongue flicks over the nerves. “So… shit .”
My arms give out when her tongue flattens on my cunt, and as she dives in, I almost forget to hold onto the headboard.
Shit.
“God, hell yes, Gemma—”
My head sinks as I watch her. Gemma devours me. My legs weaken each time she sucks on my clit or curls her tongue against me. She eventually sinks a finger into my pussy, teasingly stroking me before moving that digit into my ass. God, I love the way she fills me. Her free hand slides into my wetness, the pressure of those fingers and the other heightening the pleasure. My thighs begin to shake when she pumps in and out of me.
“Fuck—Gemma— Shit, shit, shit. ”
It’s so much. So fucking much. My knuckles whiten against the headboard. I lean over, teeth imprinting in the wood because if I don’t bite something, I’ll combust. Dammit, she’s everything. I begin to jerk, yet she holds me in place and fucks me harder.
I can’t catch my breath. Can’t think straight. I’m on my edge, but, god, she feels so good that I don’t want her to stop.
I can’t contain it.
I come without restraint, entirely soaking her beneath me. My thighs give out, hips continuing to gyrate against her mouth. The only thing holding me up is the headboard and her hands. And as I slowly stop shuddering, she wraps her arms around my waist and lets me sit back on her chest.
“Holy shit, baby,” I say, peering down at her soaked face through my star-filled eyes. “Oh my god, I didn’t realize I came that much.”
Gemma chuckles, and I wipe her face with the hand towel on the nightstand.
I slide down to her waist and let her sit up, and when she does, she sinks her arms around me and kisses me deliberately.
“Five days, and your ass is mine,” she says between our kisses. “Enjoy your fun while you have it.”
I chuckle. “I plan to.”
Gemma slaps my ass and squeezes hard enough that I squeak, and if it wasn’t for my phone going off on the bedside, I’d probably fuck her again.
ZEB
Okay, you had your appetizers.
Let’s go.
We’re waiting on you two.
“What is he on about?” Gemma asks upon reading Zeb’s messages.
“Zeb doesn’t like when we’re late,” I say.
We’re coming.
Zeb sends back a thumb’s up emoji. I take Gemma’s hand into mine and kiss the soft space between her thumb and forefinger where our matching poison ivy tattoos align. We had them done a week earlier. The tattoo artist had wrapped our entwined hands together with string to mark out where to tattoo, and then freehanded the leaves.
It’s perfect for the two of us, and after, she’d presented me with the ring on my finger—a vintage, kite-cut garnet stone on a rose gold band. It reminded me of a coffin and Harley Quinn all at once.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she says as she slides it on my finger. “It doesn’t have to be anything. It can just be this ring, and these tattoos. Our promises we already made.” She presses her lips to my cheek. “I know we belong to one another.”
We’re bound together forever.
After showering and getting dressed again, we finally make our way down the stairs and slip into the theater room as if we were there the entire time. There’s no formal dinner or fancy buffet waiting on us. We all opted for greasy takeout and a movie—in true Young Decay fashion.
“Dude, hell yes!” I say, high-fiving Reed when I see the takeout and pizza boxes. “I was craving trash after the last week.”
He chuckles. “Your dad have you eating the healthy shit?”
I give him a look. “I love him, but I don’t know how he’s gone so long without cheese,” I say before snapping up a square from the tray. “Gemma’s fam, though… Holy hell. I might sneak back over there every holiday just for their cooking.”
“Did I hear you say you’re traveling to see her dad after the new year?” he asks, sitting on the arm of one of the recliners.
I nod. “Nashville, here we come,” I say.
Reed snickers. “You should stop by that bar we sang karaoke at that one time. See if they let you back in.”
I snort. “Weren’t we kicked out of that place?”
“Ah… yeah. You crashed the kit.”
“Drunk Bedlam shenanigans,” I say with a shake of my head.
A quiet laugh leaves him as his eyes drift downward, and when he sees the ring on my finger, his face lights up.
“Holy sh—”
“Shh,” I cut him off, hand over his mouth.
“No, wait. Are you two—”
“We’re just us,” I say because it’s hard to explain. “We’re just… We’re together. We’re just happy being us.”
His gaze softens. “I’m happy for you, Bed,” he says. “You might want to turn that around before my sister sees it, though, because it’s fucking over if she does.”
I laugh. “Yeah, no kidding,” I agree.
“Hey, fam,” Mads says a few feet away.
Reed and I turn, realizing he’s talking to everyone and not just Reed and I.
“Shit, are we doing heartfelt toasts?” Reed asks, standing.
Mads smiles as Andi joins him at his side. “Ah… something like that,” he admits.
Gemma pinches my hip when she reaches me. I lean into her, and she wraps her arm around my shoulders as Mads goes on.
“I just wanted to thank you fuckers for working your asses off the last few months… The album was wrapped up and submitted right before Christmas—”
“Hell yeah,” I say, clapping along with Reed and Zeb.
“Can’t fucking wait to hear the reviews on it,” Reed says.
Zeb whistles. “Don’t we have an interview with that guy soon?”
“Ugh,” Wren mutters, arms over her chest.
I snort.
“Ah, yeah,” Mads says. “We have a lot of interviews coming up in the new year, and like six months off before the summer tour dates.”
“I can’t wait to get back on tour,” Zeb says.
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you guys about,” Mads says.
My stomach sinks, and I know by the look on Reed and Zeb’s faces that theirs does the same.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“So, I know we were thinking next year we’d do the summer tour to promote the album and then another quick run the following spring, but I…” He looks at Andi, and I almost scream.
Please, please, please be what I think it is.
“Shut all the way the fuck up,” I say out loud, eyes wide as I look between them.
Andi smiles, her cheeks heating.
“No goddamn way,” Reed seems to realize, his face lighting up. “Really?!”
Mads chuckles and kisses Andi’s knuckles. “Yeah,” he says, and I can see the tears in his eyes. “We’re having a kid.”
I scream and almost jump them, Reed right behind me. Every one of us is in hysterics, entirely unable to keep it together as we celebrate.
“Shut up, when?! ” I ask Andi.
I’ve been in and out of their apartment for weeks without a goddamn word from her.
“You said you had the flu!” I remember.
Andi chuckles. “We didn’t want to say anything given… Well… We wanted to wait until after the first trimester was over, and then when we went to the doctor last week and heard his heartbeat, we just—”
“Wait, his?! ” I stare between them. “You’re having a little boy?”
Andi swallows and nods her head as if she can’t speak for the tears coming down her face. I scream and jump on Mads again, kissing his face over and over as Reed jumps onto Zeb’s back and they hug Andi together.
“You’re going to be so fucking amazing, dude,” I say to Mads. “So fucking—muah! This kid is going to be the coolest kid ever.” I jump down from his arms and hug Andi. “And you’re going to be the best mom in the entire world. Just holy… Holy shit. Whew. okay, okay. I’m all done crying,” I say as I try to contain my tears. “Holy shit!”
“Alright, fuck the movie night in,” Zeb says when he puts Reed down. “Let’s go fuck something up.”
“Yes. We should celebrate,” Reed declares. “Can we?”
“Karaoke at that local place,” I suggest.
Andi and Mads look between each other, and she squeezes his hand.
“Pop-up concert at the local place,” Mads suggests. “Fuck around and try out some new shit to see the reaction.”
“Hell fucking yes.” Zeb claps his hands hard.
“Fuck yes.” Reed takes his phone out. “Okay, I’m making a video.”
“Wait, you need to call them first,” Gemma chimes in. “Make sure they’re okay with a metal band crashing their quiet Christmas crowd.”
“Boo,” Zeb says.
“Killjoy,” Reed agrees.
“Wait, aren’t you on a leave of absence?” Zeb taunts her.
Gemma purses her lips and crosses her arms over her chest. “Okay. Ask Kade if I’m wrong.”
“She’s right,” Kade says from one of the chairs.
“I’ll make the call,” Andi tells us.
An hour later, we’re pulling up to the bar and finding the line wrapped around the building.
We greet some of our fans outside as Gemma and Kade check out the inside and chat with the owners. It’s wild to think so many people stormed this bar for a show we weren’t scheduled to play—in a bar as small as the one we had our first set together in.
“This brings back memories,” I say when I sit behind the house drum kit.
Zeb plugs in his guitar and pulls it over his head. He holds out his pinky and thumb and touches them to mine. “Let’s fucking go.”
“Let’s do this,” I say, clacking my sticks together.
Gemma is leaning by the bar, smile on her lips. I blow her a kiss, and she snickers as she pretends to catch it. Kade gave her strict instructions not to try to lift anyone out of the audience tonight, though I know it’s going to be hard for her to heed his instructions.
Even if he is technically the boss right now.
On paper.
There are more people than the bar can fit, and it’s stunning to see them leave the patio doors open so people can pile in on the outside balcony.
“Alright, motherfuckers, how are we?” Reed asks into the mic.
The crowd roars back, and Mads strums a couple of notes.
“We are Young Decay, and tonight… we’re celebrating,” Reed goes on, smirking at Mads. “Can’t tell you what we’re celebrating, but we’re fucking celebrating, and we thought—what the hell? We want to enjoy this time with our favorite people—our fans.”
I tap a few times on the snare as the audience whistles and claps.
“So, we’re going to take tonight a little slow, play some new shit, see how you fuckers like it, yeah?” The crowd yells in response, and Reed grins back at me.
“Ready when you are, Bed,” he tells me.
I hold my sticks over my head and clack them together three times, leading into the set list we all agreed to in the car ride over.
I’ve missed playing intimate venues like this.
Playing here brings it all full circle. I feel like that young twenty-year-old girl sleeping on her friend’s couch, no thought to her future except to get out of the place she grew up in. Emotion swells within me as Mads strides by the kit and winks at me over his mask, and I know we’re all feeling the same thing.
And the new shit? God, the crowd loses it.
We’re a couple of songs from the end when I notice Zeb practically eye-fucking one of the women in the front.
Hot nerdy goth ...
I chuckle to myself. She has long black hair and micro bangs, bold black glasses, a septum piercing, and winged eyeliner… Her skin is pale under these lights, and her curvaceous mid-size body is mostly covered under heavy clothes—a chunky black sweater tucked into a form-fitting black pencil skirt. I can’t see her shoes, but god I hope she’s wearing spiked boots.
Zeb twists my way and nods his head in her direction, and I grin.
“All you,” I mouth to him.
“If you miss me later, check the national forests,” he says with a wink.
I laugh, though when we finish up our set a few minutes later, Zeb makes good on his word to disappear.
Fans come up and chat with us after. I sign some things and take photos, loving each story they tell me about the first time they saw us play or heard our music. By the time I make my way to Gemma again, my heart is full and heavy.
I needed this. I think we all needed it.
Shows like this put our world in perspective, help us remember to be grateful for the places we began.
I sigh as I look at Gemma by the bar, and it hits me how grateful I am for her. I don’t care how rocky this started for us. What matters is now and who we are together here.
She’s the person I’m going to live my entire future with. And as I take in the sight of her gorgeously sleepy hazel eyes, I know, in my bones, that I need more.
“Hey, rockstar,” she says when I reach her. She kisses my nose and sinks her arms around my waist. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I want it on paper,” I say, settling into her embrace. “I want you and me. I want this—” I hold up my ringed hand “—to be real. I want our names forever written together on a stupid government document just because we fucking can. Because no one can stop us. And when we die, your name is going to be engraved into the same headstone as mine, and someone is going to have to sprinkle our combined ashes out into the ocean because you’re fucking stuck with me. Forever. And yes, we will have both because I plan on being as obnoxious as possible about us.”
She leans in, her nose dragging across my cheek. Chills erupt on my arms, and I wrap them around her neck so I can squeeze her in closer.
“Does this mean you want me to ask?” she says softly.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Yes, you want me to ask, or yes, you’ll be my wife?”
My eyes flutter. “Yes, I want to be your wife.”
She pulls back, and when she does, there’s a smile on her lips that I intend to keep there forever.
“I don’t really know if I trust someone willing to marry their stalker,” she says.
I burst out laughing, swaying in her arms before kissing her once more.
“I need you to stalk me again,” I say against her lips. “I miss running past all the red flags.”
“Don’t worry. I already have something special planned.”
“Hell yes.”
“So… that’s a yes?” she asks me again.
I grin. “ Yes .”
I eagerly jump into her arms and kiss her hard, and as we ignore the chattering all around us, my mind focuses in on two things: her lips and the bass drum’s thump at the heart of the music playing.
If you asked me five years ago how I saw the rest of my life going, I would have pointed you in the direction of the cemetery. I would have told you I’d only be around to haunt my worst enemies. I wouldn’t have guessed I’d still be alive, living my dream, and surrounded by the friends and family who I once pushed away. I would have told you to go fuck yourself if you’d said I would be in love with my stalker, and if you’d asked if I thought I would still be sober, the answer would have been a laugh in your face.
If you asked me any of those questions now, I’d tell you that I won’t stop fighting.
I’ve fought like hell to get this far, taken on people who wanted me dead and came out of the other side with a beautiful woman on my arm who went through hell and back with me.
I’m not giving up. I’ll keep fighting for her, for us . I’ll keep fighting for another day.
I owe it to myself to give every sunrise a chance.
And I owe it to her to make it to every sunset.