Epilogue
Linsey
Six Months Later
“Sabre, if you put one more thing on that grill, I’m calling the fire department.”
We’re at the clubhouse on a sunny Saturday afternoon. One of the prospects is being patched in today and Sabre is taking up grill duties. Right now he’s taking them very seriously and I’m leaving him to it. It’s my weekend off at the restaurant.
“I know people at the fire department, darlin’,” he says as he shifts the ribeyes along the grill.
“That isn’t the reassurance you think it is,” I mutter.
There are easily fifty people here, but apparently Sabre is cooking for twice that number.
I rest one hand on the small of my back and the other on the enormous bump that used to be my stomach.
Almost immediately, the baby shifts beneath my palm.
At nearly eight months pregnant, I’ve reached the stage where everything is an effort.
Standing. Sitting. Getting out of a chair.
Putting on shoes. Rolling over in bed. Existing.
Luckily from Monday, my hours at the restaurant have been reduced, that’s the good thing about being the head chef—you have some say so.
Though I’ve been going through the menu with the sous chef who’ll be stepping into my shoes when I’m on maternity leave.
Sabre has been extra protective recently and notices everything. As if on cue, he glances over his shoulder, and his eyes immediately drop to my stomach.
“You okay, darlin’?”
“I’ve been standing for approximately forty-five seconds,” I say.
“That ain’t what I asked.”
“I’m fine. I’m eight months pregnant, I’m always uncomfortable.”
His expression softens. “Come here.”
I head over to where he’s standing behind the industrial-sized grill. He wipes his hands on the towel tucked into his waistband before settling them on either side of my stomach. He crouches slightly, bringing his face closer to the bump.
“You givin’ your mama trouble again?”
A hard little foot pushes against my side and Sabre grins. “See? She knows my voice.”
“We don’t know if we’re having a girl or a boy yet,” I tell him.
“She’s a girl, I can feel it.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. I know my old man will be overjoyed whatever we have. Same as me. Whether Noah has a little sister or brother, we’re going to be one big happy family.
He kisses my stomach through my shirt, then straightens and kisses me. It’s brief because we’re surrounded by people, but his hand slides around the back of my neck and his thumb brushes the skin beneath my ear.
Even after all these months together he can still make everything inside me flutter with one touch. Although these days, some of the fluttering might be indigestion.
“Sit down for a while,” he murmurs.
I’m about to protest, when Noah’s voice comes from behind us. “Mom, you should probably sit down.”
I turn my head slowly.
“Dad says part of being a team is looking out for everybody. I’m just doin’ that.”
Hearing him call Sabre, ‘Dad’, makes something in my chest tighten.
There was a time when I worried about what kind of influence having a one-percent biker in Noah’s life might be.
Now my son makes his bed every morning because Sabre told him that discipline starts with doing the boring stuff nobody praises you for.
He still reads Sergeant Rock and he still throws knives—though he knows he’s not to take the blades home—and he’s recently developed an interest in learning how engines work. If I hadn’t gathered already, it’s obvious I’m going to have a little biker on my hands.
“Fine,” I say, glancing at both of my men. “I’ll go and sit down.” I start to turn away but then spin around again. “And don’t overload the grill. You know if you do that then it’ll bring down the temperature.”
“Yes, Chef.”
Noah snickers. I give them both a suspicious look before making my way towards the shaded tables. Today the brothers with families have all brought them for the cookout and there are kids running across the grass with water pistols.
Prospects carry coolers, clean tables, fetch chairs, and generally discover that being the lowest men in the Savage Legion hierarchy means everybody knows their name when there’s work to be done. But the grill is Sabre’s domain.
I glance over at him. He’s wearing his usual jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt that shows off all his tattoos. There’s something deeply attractive about watching the man I love cook.
“You’re staring at him again.”
I turn. Shelly drops into the chair beside me with a paper plate piled so high I’m amazed structural engineering wasn’t involved.
“I’m allowed to stare at him,” I tell my cousin.
Shelly turned eighteen three months ago and two days later, she packed everything she cared about into three suitcases and left Montana.
Her original plan had been Los Angeles, but instead, she called me.
She’s starting at Salinas County Community College next month and living with Aunt Carol while she figures out what she wants to do with the rest of her life.
She doesn’t have to figure it out quickly. That’s something I keep reminding her. When you grow up in a world where everyone else plans your future before you’re old enough to understand what a future is, freedom can be almost as overwhelming as captivity.
Across the yard, Aunt Carol is sitting with a couple of older women.
I’m not sure of their names, but I think one is the mother of the prospect who’s being patched in.
That’s what I love about the Savage Legion.
It’s not just men and bikes. They truly care about family and the community.
She catches me looking and raises her plastic cup.
I raise mine back. Seeing her here makes something warm settle in my chest. After ten years of it just being us two, my family looks different these days.
For a moment my mind goes back to what happened.
Some of it still hurts. My father is in jail.
Not county jail anymore. He was transferred months ago after the federal charges started stacking up.
I’m okay with that. My mother, though involved with the kidnapping, managed to avoid any charges.
I’m still angry with her, but hopefully without my father’s influence, my little sister Ruthie has a better chance to make something of herself and won’t end up like me and my cousin Shelly.
And Dylan is out of my hair. Turns out violating parole, stalking your ex, conspiring with people to abduct her, and helping create fake documentation designed to lure her child away from school are frowned upon by the justice system so he’s back behind bars, and this time there won’t be an early release slipped through without me knowing.
A hand lands on my shoulder pulling me from my thoughts. I look up to find Aunt Carol.
“You’re thinking too hard, sweetheart,” she says.
I just smile at her. She can read me like a book.
“You doing okay?” she asks.
“I’m good.” I mean it. I mean there are things I’m still working through. But right now, at this minute, my life is good and I’m exactly where I want to be.
Her hand briefly covers mine and she gives it a squeeze. I change the subject before she digs further. “Is it just me or is everyone acting weird today?”
She stands straighter and looks around and shrugs. Shelly suddenly becomes extremely interested in her corn.
I look at her.
“What do you know?”
“Nothing,” Shelly says.
Aunt Carol presses her lips together. I narrow my eyes. Something has been off all afternoon. I glance over at the grill where Sabre is deep in conversation with Siege. For a moment they both look at me and then look away.
Okay, this isn’t pregnancy hormones making me extra sensitive. What aren’t they telling me? The moment I think that I suddenly have an awful thought that something’s changed with Dylan. Like maybe the extra charges have been dropped and he might be getting out.
I push myself upright and Aunt Carol grabs my wrist. “Where are you going?”
“To find out what my old man is up to. I know something’s wrong.”
Shelly makes a strangled noise and I freeze. Slowly, I turn my head. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Shaking my head, I start heading across the yard. Halfway there, Sabre spots me coming and says something to Siege who then grins in response.
I put my hands on my hips. “Harvey.”
His grin disappears and he looks genuinely alarmed. I rarely use his real name. “I know something’s up. Have you heard from the jail? Is it Dylan? My father?”
“Nothin’ bad’s happened, darlin’,” he says.
Then Noah runs past us. “Dad, Siege says it’s time.”
He skids to a stop and his eyes widen.
I look at Sabre, who shakes his head.
Noah whispers, “Crap. I didn’t spoil it, did I?”
“Noah.” I use my best scolding voice. Sabre is good at not cursing too much around him, but boys will be boys.
“Sorry, Mom,” Noah says and glances at Sabre again. I can’t help but notice the conspiratorial look that passes between them. My old man, my son, my aunt, cousin, and apparently the entire Savage Legion have been trying to keep something from me and they’re spectacularly bad at it.
“Fine,” I say. “Whatever it is, just do it.”
Sabre looks at me for a long second. Then something changes in his face and he looks nervous. At that moment the music cuts out and he takes my hand.
I glance around and see that all eyes are on us. “Oh my Go—”
Before the words are out of my mouth Sabre takes me to the grill. Noah hurries over carrying Sabre’s knife roll. I have a feeling I know what’s about to happen, though I’m not sure what his chef’s knives have to do with it.
He unrolls the package and pulls out a black velvet box. “Kept it there for safekeeping,” he says in a low voice. Sabre turns towards me and says, “I had a whole speech. Been practicin’ it for two fuckin’ weeks.”
My eyes are already prickling and I reach up with my free hand to give them a wipe.
“I spent most of my life believin’ I had everything I needed. Had my club. My brothers. Had work I liked. Cooked when I wanted. Rode when I wanted. Nobody depended on me too much and I didn’t depend on anybody.”
His thumb moves across my knuckles.
“I thought that was freedom.”
My throat tightens.
“Then I walked into your cookin’ class and saw what was missin’. I fell for you so fuckin’ fast I didn’t know what hit me. Then I fell for your kid too.”
Noah moves closer and Sabre looks at him. “And somewhere along the way, all that responsibility I spent my life avoiding stopped feeling like a burden.”
My tears spill over.
“I want the whole meal, Linsey.”
I make a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. I remember him telling me how he only cooked finger food and his club brothers teased him that everything else seemed like too much responsibility.
He continues. “I want family dinners. I want Noah leavin’ his crap all over the floor and you complainin’ because I bought another knife I don’t need. I want this baby waking us up at three in the morning. I want you correcting my cooking even when you’re wrong.”
“I’m never wrong,” I say and pause. “At least not where cooking’s involved.”
“Woman, I’m proposin’ here,” he says with a grin.
Sabre lowers himself onto one knee and it takes everything in me not to start sobbing. He opens the box and the ring is beautiful. It’s simple and elegant.
“Linsey, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
I barely get it out.
His entire face changes.
“Yeah?”
“Yes!”
The clubhouse erupts. Sabre gets the ring onto my finger approximately half a second before I grab his face and kiss him.
His arms go around me carefully because there’s a baby between us now and Noah barrels into both of us.
Sabre catches him with one arm and for a moment, the three of us are tangled together while the Savage Legion celebrates around us.
I place my hand over my stomach.
All four of us.
***
It takes another two hours for the cookout to finally wind down and for us to return home. By then I’m exhausted. Happy, but exhausted.
My ring catches the light every time I move my hand. I’ve probably looked at it a hundred times. Sabre told me that he knows I can’t wear it in the restaurant so he’s got a gold chain for me as well so I can wear it around my neck. That biker of mine is thoughtful.
I sit on the porch swing with my feet up and Sabre comes out carrying two plates.
“No.”
He stops. “What?”
“I can’t eat another thing,” I say.
“It’s cheesecake.”
I look at the plate. “Well, that’s different.”
He sits beside me and I take the fork he offers me. For a few minutes, neither of us speaks. We share the cheesecake while the last traces of sunlight disappear beyond his backyard fence. My head settles against his shoulder. His hand rests on my stomach and the baby moves.
Sabre’s fingers spread. “There she is.”
“Or he.”
“Or he,” he repeats.
I hold up my left hand. The ring glitters in what’s left of the light.
“You really want to marry me?” he asks with a crooked smile.
“Bit late to ask.”
“I’m serious. I kind of sprung it on you earlier. Seemed like a good idea at the time but…” His words trail off and I realize he’s worried I might have felt pressured into saying yes.
“I spent years thinking freedom meant never letting anyone have enough of me to hurt me again,” I whisper. “I know it wasn’t the kind of life I deserved, but some part of me wondered if Dylan’s actions were a punishment…”
Sabre opens his mouth to speak but I silence him. “Me and Noah were doing okay. But then one day a handsome biker rolled up to my cooking class and suddenly everything made sense.”
I kiss him slowly this time and when we part, he presses his forehead against mine. “I love you, Linsey.”
“I love you too.”
His hand settles over our baby again.
Somewhere in the house, Noah yells, “Dad!”
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s see what our son wants.”
Sabre stands and holds out his hand to help me up. I take it. He pulls me carefully to my feet, kisses my forehead, and keeps his arm around me as we walk inside to find out what our son has destroyed.
For the first time in my life, I don’t need to know exactly what comes next.
Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.
THE END