EPILOGUE
LUKE
Eight months later . . .
“Chief Rosen,” I answered my office phone.
“Three consecutive life sentences.”
I always liked how Maria cut to the chase on our infrequent calls. “Any news on the others?”
“We’re getting there. One by one. But we’ve got a long way to go.”
The federal prosecutor assigned to the Warriors’ case had pushed for Tucker’s trial first. Most others were ongoing, but so far, the shortest sentence rendered was five years.
Fifty-seven Warriors were being sent through the criminal justice system to pay for their crimes.
Murder. Drug trafficking. Kidnapping. Assault.
The list went on. Some of them were already in prison, mostly those with shorter sentences and those who’d copped a plea for a reduced sentence.
Others were awaiting trial. But at this moment in time, not a single member of the Arrowhead Warrior Motorcycle Club was walking free.
And if Tucker Talbot was spending his next three lives in a federal penitentiary, I would sleep better at night.
For a little while, at least.
I wasn’t fool enough to believe it would last. He had connections to other clubs who might try to enact his revenge.
“If we’re lucky, the judge’s sentence for Tucker will set a precedent for the others coming,” Maria said.
The other men being those who’d killed Ken Raymond and Birdy Hames.
Birdy had lost her life to the Warriors. She’d died on the operating table about the same time Scarlett had walked out of the hospital in Ashton all those months ago.
The one and only time I’d heard Maria’s stoic and solid voice crack was when she’d called to tell me that Birdy hadn’t survived. She’d taken the loss of two team members personally.
I would have too.
But death was the risk we’d agreed to when choosing a career in law enforcement. That didn’t make it easier, especially when you were the one telling people to walk into dangerous situations and defuse them.
Sometimes the bomb just . . . detonated.
“Keep me posted,” I said.
Maria didn’t bother with parting small talk. There was just the simple click of the call ending.
I replaced the phone in its cradle and went back to my computer. The glare from the window behind me caught the screen so I stood and went to the glass. But before pulling the blinds, I took a long look at the river flowing behind the station.
It was the beginning of March and the snow had already melted.
Maybe we’d get another storm or two before we officially descended into spring, but the grass was already turning green.
Montana springs were about as easy to predict as a March Madness bracket.
Every year was different and each had a way of surprising you.
This time last year, we’d had snow everywhere. This time last year, I’d found Scarlett in the cookie aisle at the grocery store.
There’d been stress—a lot of stress—but without a doubt, this past year had been the best of my life.
The Arrowhead Warriors would try to fuck it up. But even if they got out of prison, even if Tucker orchestrated a retaliation effort from his prison cell, I’d fight.
No matter what that meant. No matter which side of the law that put me on. I was choosing the right side. I chose my wife, and my baby girl who would be here any day.
The robins chirped beyond the windows. The tree leaves rustled in the breeze.
The last place I wanted to be was stuck at my desk doing paperwork.
If I had time later, I’d cruise around town.
I loathed traffic stops but in the past month, I’d written more speeding tickets than I had in the past five years combined.
The busy tasks helped me hide my fears so they wouldn’t show when I got home. But no matter how many tickets I wrote, Scarlett’s due date was rapidly approaching, and I couldn’t seem to calm my nerves.
Could I keep them safe? Should we just disappear? Scarlett had suggested it once. Now that our daughter was almost here, I contemplated it more than ever.
How was I going to keep them safe?
If Scarlett was scared, she didn’t let it show. Not about the Warriors or about becoming a mother. I’d expected some anxiety on her part, a hint of her uncertainty and fear, but she’d found this Zen during pregnancy. She was as steady as ever. And she was putting on a fearless face.
We both were.
She was determined not to let Tucker Talbot steal her future, and as much as I wanted to feel the same, the knot of dread never seemed to loosen.
Though hearing about Tucker’s sentence had helped. I hoped she’d be relieved too when I reported home tonight.
Scarlett had thrown herself into our life. She’d settled into our home and neighborhood. She’d made friends. She was working toward her bachelor’s degree in interior design online. She’d just finished her classes last week and was preparing to take the next semester off to be at home with the baby.
Whatever she wanted to do was fine by me. She’d tossed around the idea of opening her own business after graduating, possibly staging homes for realtors in town or offering freelance design services. She’d even mentioned event planning.
My wife had a talent for seeing a space and making it shine.
I was so damn proud of her. For school. For the way she wouldn’t let her past define her future. For the way she’d handled her mother. We hadn’t heard from Amanda Marks since Scarlett had started sending her letters. But every Friday on my way to work, I took Scarlett’s latest to the mailbox.
I doubted we’d get a response. Scarlett had confessed she didn’t either. Hell, maybe Scarlett’s father was intercepting the letters. But she was sending them regardless.
There was no woman more quietly determined than my wife.
The unread emails in my inbox were calling so I turned away from the window and returned to my chair. I’d only made it through three when my phone rang again.
Scarlett’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“I’m at the hospital.”
I was out of my chair so fast, I tripped on the wheelbase and crashed into my desk, barely catching myself by the elbows before hitting the floor.
The glass of water I’d refilled not long before Maria had called sloshed onto a shift report.
“Luke?”
“I’m coming.” I brushed the water off the paper and kicked the chair away before it killed me. Then I spun around, searching for my keys. “I’m coming.”
Where were my keys? I spun again. “Where are my keys?”
Scarlett laughed. “You have time.”
“You don’t know that.” My voice rose, edged with panic.
“Don’t drive crazy,” she ordered, then ended the call.
Where the fuck were my keys? My head spun as I searched everywhere. I patted my jeans pockets. Empty. My desk. Nothing but papers, my sunglasses and a wallet.
I shoved the papers aside, some falling to the floor. Still, no keys.
“Fuck it.”
I’d take one of the cruisers. Snatching up my wallet, I bolted from the office, whipping the door open with too much force. It bounced against the stop and clipped me in the shoulder as I nearly collided with Nathan.
He had his hand raised, ready to knock on my now-open door.
“Give me your keys.” I held out my free hand.
My free hand, with my keys in them.
What the hell? I must have grabbed them, not even realizing I’d picked them up, when Scarlett had called.
“Uh . . . okay.” He dug into his pocket.
“Never mind.” I plowed past him, nearly knocking him down as I jogged through the bullpen.
Chuck was at his desk and when he saw me running, he shot out of his chair. “Is it time?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go!” he shouted, and the other officers sprinted into action. The room erupted.
I was the first out the door, but they were hot on my heels, dashing for their cruisers.
Two of them beat me out of the parking lot, lights and sirens flashing as they led the caravan to the hospital. Three more were behind me.
My heart raced so fast, the streets became a blur.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to think, just follow the guys into the parking lot. My tires screeched as I took a corner too fast. The truck lurched as I slammed on the brakes beside the entrance.
Scarlett was standing on the sidewalk with Presley at her side, both shaking their heads. What the fuck was she doing outside?
Presley leaned in to whisper something in her sister’s ear as she rubbed her own pregnant belly. She was due in a couple of weeks. Apparently, there’d been something in the water at our inaugural barbecue because not only was Scarlett pregnant, so was Presley. So was Genevieve. And so was Cass.
There were going to be a lot of babies soon.
I shoved the truck in park, not bothering to shut it off. One of the guys would park it and bring me the keys.
“Isn’t this a little overkill?” Scarlett asked, waving a hand to the police cars lined up in succession.
“Kind of a waste of taxpayer dollars, Luke.” Presley pulled her lips in to fight a laugh.
“Who drove you here?” I asked them both.
The sisters exchanged guilty looks. Both were so big that it was a struggle to fit behind the wheel.
“We’ll talk about that later,” I grumbled, taking Scarlett’s elbow. Then I marched her toward the hospital’s double doors, Presley waddling not far behind.
A chorus of claps rang out as my team whistled and cheered.
Scarlett cast them a beaming smile over her shoulder but I didn’t slow. I raised a hand and disappeared inside to get checked in. It wasn’t until Scarlett was in a bed, wearing a faded blue gown, that I finally breathed.
“You’re freaking out,” Scarlett said.
“Yup.”
“Women have babies every day.”
“Not my wife.”
She patted the bed beside her hip. “Sit down.”
“I can’t.” I paced between the monitor and the guest chair in the corner of the room.
“I’m going to leave you guys alone.” Presley walked to Scarlett’s side and took her hand. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“If you decide to kick him out and want me to coach you instead, I’ll be in the waiting room.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “He’ll be fine.”
Presley shot me a doubtful look, then left us alone.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Talk to me.”
I didn’t answer.
“Luke.” Her voice was so gentle, so concerned, I wouldn’t deny her the truth.
“I—” Before I could confess that I was nervous, Scarlett sucked in a sharp breath and gritted her teeth.
Her face twisted and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Ooof. That hurts.”
I rushed to her side, taking her hand so she could squeeze my fingers. “Breathe.”
She nodded, sucking in a breath through her nose. The green line spiked on the monitor as her contraction peaked. She’d had others since we’d been here, but this was the worst so far.
“Sorry,” I said as the pain eased.
“For knocking me up?”
“No.” I chuckled. “I promise to get my shit together.”
“That would be good.” She cracked her eyes open and brought a hand to my cheek. “We’ll be okay. You’ll keep her safe.”
My jaw dropped. “How did you know?”
“Because I know you. That brave face doesn’t hide anything from me.”
“You’re wearing one too.”
“Yeah, I am. But just because I’ve got fears, doesn’t mean I don’t believe in my heart of hearts that we will be okay. You. Me. The baby. This is where our life is. I’m not giving it up. I’m not letting you give it up. So we’ll fight for it, and you’ll keep us safe.”
Scarlett’s faith in me was humbling.
She’d put me on a pedestal. Not that I minded, because I’d put her on one too. My parents had been that way, seeing the best in one another. Maybe that was the foundation of a solid marriage. Standing on your pedestals, eye to eye, together.
I took her hand from my face and brought it to my lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We sat like that, together, for the next twelve hours. She clutched my hand through the pain. I held a leg as she pushed. And we both wept over the miracle of our daughter’s birth.
It was long after the sun had set and our baby girl had fallen asleep in Scarlett’s arms that I finally wandered into the waiting room. It was crowded with familiar faces.
Presley was asleep against Shaw’s shoulder. He spotted me first, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.
I nodded, unable to fight the smile that stretched across my face.
Two chairs down from him, Dash had fallen asleep too, his legs crossed at the ankle. On the small couch, my dad was lying with a hat tipped over his eyes. I’d texted them all hours ago that we were here and would send an update with news.
I should have expected the crowd. Our friends weren’t the kind to wait at home for a text.
Dad would want to know, but soft snores were coming from beneath the ball cap’s brim. I let him sleep.
Emmett, sitting across from Dad, turned when he heard my footsteps and stood from his chair. “Congratulations, man.”
I shook his outstretched hand. “Thanks.”
“You owe me twenty,” Shaw said. “We took bets on whether you or Leo would be out first.”
“Leo’s here?”
Emmett nodded. “Cass went into labor about eight hours ago.”
If the timing worked out, our children would share a birthday. Scarlett would like that. She’d grown rather fond of Cassandra in the past eight months, treating her more like a younger sister than a friend.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Emmett and I turned to see Leo stride our way, his hands jammed in his pockets and his face pale.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“I have a daughter.” Leo blinked and raked a hand through his hair. “Holy fuck, I have a daughter.”
I clapped him on the shoulder, laughing as I left him with our friends. I hadn’t been the only expectant father freaking out, though compared to Leo, I’d handled it like a champ.
He’d make sense of it eventually. And maybe he’d finally open his eyes to Cassandra.
When I returned to our room, I tiptoed inside, not wanting to wake Scarlett. She’d wanted a natural delivery and by the time the baby had arrived with a wail, Scarlett had been exhausted. But as I pushed through the door, I found her awake, staring at our daughter swaddled against her chest.
“Isn’t she perfect?”
I sat on the bed, leaning down to kiss Scarlett’s forehead. “Like her mother.”
“What if we named her Mary after your mom?”
My heart swelled so full it hurt. We’d found out the sex but had decided not to pick names until she was born.
Mary.
Mary Rosen.
If Mom was watching, she’d have one hell of a smile on her face.
“I’d like that,” I choked out.
“Good.” Carefully, Scarlett slid over in the bed, making room for me.
I kicked off my boots, then stretched out beside her, tucking her into my side. When I brushed Mary’s hand, it opened just enough to circle my index finger and hold on tight.
Then Scarlett and I ended the day—the best day—with a smile.