Epilogue One
KNOX - THREE WEEKS LATER
Iblow out a breath as I take in the leather cut sitting on the large table in church. On the front is Maren’s name. I’m Knox. I was born Knox. I ride as Knox.
And it made sense for Maren to do the same. Carefully, I lift the leather and take in the back.
Property of Knox.
Property of motherfucking Knox.
Maren’s mine.
Her connection to her father is now utterly severed. I finished some repairs on my boat and took her out onto the water. We have no idea where, exactly, Caldwell left her mom’s body. But Maren made a little wreath and quietly said goodbye to her mom, then let me hold her while she cried.
The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions.
Maren’s had complicated feelings about the loss of her father, who, despite being the asshole who tried to kill her, was the only blood relative she had left.
But she’s also had to deal with police reports and insurance claims and death certificates and the arrangement of a private funeral.
And in private, learning she had never been abandoned by her mom has been another visceral blow to her tender heart.
In spite of that, she’s got the bait store up and running, of a fashion.
Because the modern storeroom, boat dock, and emergency apartment survived the fire, she’s been able to maintain her airboat business, and get in some basic and the most urgent bait and marine supplies that she’s selling from the storeroom space.
Locals are rolling with it; tourists think it’s charming.
But the best part is we’ve fallen into bed with each other every night. Alvarez has not made a move on us. I hope he never will. Although, if I were a gambling man, I’d guess we haven’t seen the last of him.
I know that’s not the end to her grief. That it’ll be a process. But I want something happy for us. I want to give her what I promised. And now, the time is right, and I can’t wait to see her in this. Can’t wait to walk into the clubhouse with her on my arm and show her off.
“Oof, big step, Prez,” Sunny says as he steps into church.
“Yeah. Just gotta get a vote from you guys, and then, convince her to wear it.”
“Thought you said you already asked her to be your old lady,” Sunny says.
I nod. “I did. But we didn’t vote. And I didn’t tell her she’d have to wear this.”
Havoc catches the tail end of what I’m saying. “You just praying she watched enough episodes of Sons of Anarchy to get the basic idea or something?”
I have no idea if Maren has or hasn’t watched any TV shows about bikers.
But what I do know is that she sets my world on fire. Shit, that’s a bad analogy, given her apartment just burned down. But I’m the lucky fuck who gets to wake up next to her every morning. That she’s the calm to my rough.
“When are you going to give it to her?”
I finish the final swig of the beer I’d brought in with me and toss the bottle in the garbage. “In the clubhouse, tonight.”
“Ballsy move, doing it in front of everyone,” Vandal says, barely moving his jaw as he walks gingerly into the room.
His face is still a mess, but at least he’s mobile, and in his own words, no longer pissing blood.
There’s a wide band of hair missing from ear to ear, and a grizzly scar that, up until recently, was held together with precision staples.
“She’s already said yes,” I remind them.
“To a lifetime with you, but a cut ain’t for everyone,” Havoc says.
“Woah, the bossman’s going all in,” Lock says as he joins us.
Reaper shrugs. “It’s about time. The guy’s older than Methuselah.”
“Who?” Sunny asks.
“Bible dude. Noah’s grandfather, or some shit. Lived for nearly a thousand years.”
“I call bullshit,” Sunny says.
Reaper raises an eyebrow. “Did you need to say that out loud, or could it just be assumed?”
Sunny flips him the bird.
Vandal is nursing a glass of whiskey and raises it in my direction. “Congrats, Prez.” But there’s no smile. There’s no cheesy song.
“Thanks.”
He raises the whiskey to his lips. I’ve never had an opinion on what another man drinks before, but I worry about Vandal and that goddam glass. It’s never out of his hand, now.
I spoke to Reaper, and he said he’d speak to Vandal about it.
But Vandal got shook that night with Alvarez. Like I did with Maren. But where we have each other to get through it together, Vandal is pulling away.
Nearly losing your life, facing the long-time impact on your sight, all the surgeries he has had and all the ones still to come, feeling mortal…that can do a number on a man.
Since he got out of the hospital, he hides in his room at the clubhouse, never coming out unless it’s to find more whiskey or because I force him to church. King insisted we use the money he sent us to pay Vandal’s medical bills, but the guy won’t call King to say thanks.
Something tells me I’m going to have to intervene, at some point, because I refuse to see the brother who has already shouldered so much in his life, collapse into this.
Once everyone is seated, I close the door. Then, I turn to my men with a smile. “Brothers. It’s a simple question. I fucking love Maren. I didn’t want a vote until Vandal could join us. So, here we are. I want a vote on Maren becoming my old lady.”
“What happens if we vote no?” Sunny asks, his face serious.
What the—?
“Then, Maren doesn’t get this, it fucks with my future, and my standing with the club. I mean, you better have a damn good reason for saying—”
“Chill, Prez,” Sunny says. “I’m gonna vote yes, just no one ever told me what happens if we say no.”
I flop back into my chair and put a hand over my heart that’s racing. “Motherfucker, Sunny.”
Reaper is the first to laugh. He tries his best to hide it. Head down, but his shoulders move silently. Then, Havoc.
North isn’t even subtle as he laughs.
Lock shakes his head. “You’re really not the brightest headlight on the bike, are you, Sunny?”
Sunny raises both hands in surrender. “It was just a question.”
“One that nearly killed me. Now, can we vote before I have a heart attack?” I ask.
“Yes from me,” North says, raising his hand. “I was wrong about her.”
Havoc nods. “And me. So, yeah, it’s a yes from me.”
Vandal says nothing but raises his hand with a nod.
“Guess I should definitely say yes, at this point,” Sunny says.
Lock grins. “Easy yes from me, Prez.”
“She makes you better, Prez,” Reaper says, raising his hand.
“Full set, Prez,” Ridge says. “I’m a yes.”
I swallow deep as I look each of them in the eye and then, run my fingers over her cut. “I’ll say this once, because I vowed never to interfere in any man’s choices. But find the right woman, brothers. Might just save your life. Now, can we get some whiskey and toast this vote?”
I move to the door, but as I open it, I see Maren hurrying across the bar. “One second, brothers. Just wait for me. Maren’s here.”
She looks shell-shocked, and I immediately march across the bar to meet her. “Sweetheart, what happened?”
“I need to speak to you,” Maren says when she sees me standing in the middle of the clubhouse.
I look behind her, expecting to see chaos in the yard. My heart rate spikes for the second time in ten minutes. “Are you okay?”
She catches her breath. “Yeah. I’m fine. Well, maybe…oh, God, I’m totally messing this up.”
I cup my hands around her neck and stroke her pulse. “It’s all right. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
“Really hope you mean that, because…” She tugs something out of the back pocket of her shorts and hands it to me. It’s wrapped in a paper towel.
And when I open it, my heart drops into my stomach before bouncing back in my chest. Haven’t felt this way since I was eight years old and my father bought me my first bike.
There are two different pregnancy tests in there. The first one has lines I guess I’m supposed to interpret, but the second one has a huge plus sign on it.
Words seem inadequate, and I can’t form a fucking sentence. So, I reach for her, tugging her to me, realizing that between the two of us is a fucking life form that’s going to be the perfect mix of me and her.
I’m gonna be a dad.
I’m gonna have a child to love and protect.
A child I can teach to ride a bike.
“Thank you,” I finally manage, even though it doesn’t come close to expressing what I’m feeling. “Jesus, Maren. Thank you.”
I cup her cheeks and hold her away from me. There’s excitement and fear and love and a million other things in her eyes. Like me, the emotions are just too much for her to contain, and the tears spill over.
“You’re sure you’re happy about this?” she asks.
“Happy doesn’t even begin to describe it.
I feel like we might be doing all this ass backwards.
But I’m gonna marry you, whenever you want, and we’re gonna live the shit out of this life.
Because of you”—I drop my palm to her stomach—“and this little one. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. ”
She blows out a breath. “Thank goodness.”
Unable to contain myself, I tug her to me again and wrap my arms tightly around her, enveloping her. I bury my head in her hair and mutter a thousand promises.
“You two will never want for anything. I’m gonna protect you and love you, and I’m sure you’ll both wrap me around your little fingers when I think I’m being this big, tough, alpha dude.”
Maren chuckles against me. “I should go see the doctor, at some point.”
“I’ll take you,” I say, but as I do, I wonder if pregnant women are safe on bikes.
“And get some maternity vitamins.”
“Tell me which one you need and I’ll go get them.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m capable of going to the store on my own. And I’m going to work until I pop, so you can get over any ideas you have of keeping me home.”
“Whatever you say,” I say, more so we can keep enjoying this moment, because the day I see her waddle or wince or hold her back, I’ll be drawing lines.
She raises one eyebrow, like she knows what I’m thinking.
“Okay,” I admit. “I might have a problem with that, but I’ll try not to be too overbearing.”
Then, Maren smiles at me. Like she sees me. Sees my every attribute and flaw and yet still wants me. “In that case, I’ll try to listen when you encourage me to rest.”
“I’ve got something for you,” I say. “Wait there.”
I move back into church and grab the cut off the table.
“Everything okay with Maren?” Sunny asks.
“Golden,” I say. Because if I tell them now, it’ll be about me becoming a father, and I want this to be about Maren wearing this, first. “But I’m gonna give this to Maren, now, because she just made my fucking day.”
I walk back into the bar feeling happier than any man has a right to. Especially a man like me. My men are flanking me, and Maren is standing where I left her, twisting her fingers together with a soft smile on her face.
Jesus.
She’s carrying my kid.
I stop in front of her and simply take her in, for a second. “I love you, sweetheart. And this is yours, if you want it. I’ll love you either way. I need you to know that, first and foremost. But would you consider wearing it and officially become my old lady?”
Her eyes drop to the leather, and I see the smile when she recognizes her name on the front. Then, I turn it so she can see the back.
“Knox,” she whispers, as I hear the footsteps of my brothers as they come to stand closer behind me.
“It means you’re mine to protect. But it also means you’re officially one of us. Everyone in this room will protect you. No one will hurt you. Not without going through them or me.”
Maren’s eyes fill with tears. “I don’t have to have sex with you in front of them again to earn it?”
There are chuckles from behind me, and even I smile at that one. “Absolutely not.”
Her fingers hover over it, and then, she slips her arms through it and settles it onto her shoulders. “I guess I better live up to it,” she says, before turning so I can see it.
Cheers go up around me, but I step up behind her and kiss her neck before placing my hands over her stomach.
“Got one more surprise for you,” I say. “It’s in the pocket.”
She slips her hand in to retrieve the folded paper, then turns to face me. “What is it?”
“A lease. Twelve months. You need a gallery, so I got you one. I had the guys strip it back to the walls and paint it white. New lighting. New flooring. Left the rest bare so you can set it up however you want.”
Then, her eyes well up real fast, and tears slip over her cheeks. “Oh my God. You got me a gallery. You really think I’m a good artist.”
“Don’t cry,” I say, pulling her to me. “I hate when you cry.”
“I’m not crying,” she lies.
“Well, I should be. I just realized I gave you a new business right when you told me you’re pregnant, so if it’s too much for you, now, I can—”
“Shut up,” she says, before stepping up onto her toes to kiss me. “Just shut up.”
Whoops and cheers erupt behind me, and congratulations flow about the cut and the baby.
“How come I can’t tell Prez to shut up?” Sunny says behind me.
And I don’t care.
Because I’ve got my woman, my child, and a future worth fighting for.