Epilogue 1
Autumn
My coffee steams beside me, untouched, as I flip through the magazine in front of me for what must be the hundredth time.
My fingers trace the bold headline: “Shadow and Light: The True Story of Midnight Falls’ Historic Manor House.”
The words flow across the page with a certainty I don’t quite feel, making it almost seem like someone else wrote them, like it wasn’t me who uncovered Frank’s scheme or fought through those harrowing moments in the tunnels.
Yet here it is, in black and white, the truth finally exposed.
Carefully crafted paragraphs detail everything—the sabotage, the stolen money, the developers’ dirty deals to turn The Manor into soulless condos.
Most importantly, it reveals how the Midnight Riders played an integral role in bringing justice to light, transforming their reputation from menacing outlaws to unexpected guardians of the town’s heritage.
The café’s regulars are already deep into their morning routines—the elderly couple by the fireplace sharing their usual crossword, college students with laptops crowding the communal table, and tourists pausing their ghost tour preparations to warm up with coffee and pastries.
From my vantage point at the window, I watch as another group poses for photos in front of the infamous ghost tour meeting point, their enthusiasm for the supernatural undampened by the bright spring morning.
A sudden shift in the room’s energy pulls my gaze to the door. Colt steps in, the doorbell above jangling as he strides in like he owns the place, his boots heavy on the hardwood, his leather jacket wrapped tight despite the spring warmth outside.
Even now, months after the article broke, heads still turn when he enters a room—but the looks are different now. Where there was once fear, there’s respect. The whispers that follow him are no longer suspicious but admiring.
He’s scanning the room, but when his eyes land on mine, his expression softens. The worry lines etched into his face over the past few weeks haven’t entirely disappeared, but today, they seem lighter.
The sight of him still makes my heart skip, still brings back flashes of that first night at the masquerade ball, of danger in dark tunnels, of every moment that led us here.
He crosses the room in a few long strides, pulling the chair out opposite me and sitting down without breaking eye contact.
His thumb brushes the back of my hand, a gesture so familiar now it feels like we’ve been doing this forever. “Admiring your handiwork?”
I smile, and he gives me that barely there smirk that carries all the feelings in his heart.
“Making sure it’s real,” I admit, setting the magazine aside. “Sometimes it feels like I dreamed the whole thing.”
The past months flash through my mind—the investigation, the revelations, the nights spent piecing together evidence while the MC kept watch.
The way the town rallied once the truth came out, how quickly everything changed.
He chuckles, and the sound is like a balm to every anxious nerve in my body.
As his hand flips the magazine closed, gently nudging it aside, his expression shifts into something more serious.
“It’s real, Firefly. You did it. The article’s good. Hell, it’s more than good—it’s right,” he says, his gaze earnest. “This town needed to know the truth.”
“Papers have been calling,” I say, wrapping my hands around my cooling coffee cup. “Big ones. They want me to cover more stories like this—corruption, hidden scandals, that sort of thing.” I pause, watching his face carefully. “They’re offering real money, Colt. Chances to make a real difference.”
His expression doesn’t change, but I feel his thumb stop its gentle movement across my knuckles. “That what you want?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Part of me wants to chase the next big story, but...” I meet his eyes. “The drive back and forth to Midnight Falls these past months, seeing how the MC’s reputation has completely transformed since the article... People stop me every time I’m in town, telling me how the Riders helped their grandmother or protected their business. There are more stories here, Colt. Important ones.”
When I speak again, my voice is quieter. “What happens now? With us, I mean. With The Manor, the Riders, everything?”
The morning bustle of the café fades away as I wait for his answer. A barista calls out an order, and the espresso machine hisses, but it all feels distant, muted beneath the weight of this moment.
He doesn’t respond right away, watching me carefully. His fingers drum lightly on the table, a rare tell of nervousness from a man who usually keeps his emotions locked down tight.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low and serious. “When I came back to Midnight Falls, it was always with one foot ready to leave again. The Riders, the MC—they were my reason for staying. But things shifted. You?—“
He pauses, his jaw tightening—only for a second, before he lets out a long breath, the tension melting away. “You changed that. Changed everything.”
My chest tightens as his fingers squeeze mine. “I’ve lived a lot of my life not knowing where I belong. But now...” he leans forward, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine, “wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be.”
His voice roughens, as if he’s not sure I believe him. “I’ve got my place with the MC, and The Manor’s not going anywhere. But what I want—what I need—is you. The rest of it—hell, Autumn, any of it—doesn’t matter if you’re with me.”
The enormity of it hits me then. This isn’t just about Midnight Falls or The Manor.
This is about him letting me in—letting us be something bigger than we ever imagined. “But what if I?—“
“You’re thinking about coming back here more often, aren’t you?” he interrupts, his eyes locked on mine with that intensity that still makes my breath catch.
Morning sunlight catches his silver rings, steam from our untouched coffees dancing between us. His hands, so often my salvation, now cradle mine with impossible gentleness.
I nod slowly, the truth settling deep in my chest like a warm weight. “I am. Not... not moving here, not yet. But maybe someday.”
“Someday,” he agrees, and something in his voice makes my heart flutter. “For now, we make it work. Weekend runs with the MC, you chase your stories, and we help Margaret with The Manor’s restoration when we can.”
A small smile tugs at my lips as I look back at him. “You’d be okay with that? The back and forth?”
His answering grin is rough around the edges, but laced with pure relief. He leans across the table, his thumb tracing my jawline as his voice drops to a murmur.
“Firefly, as long as we’re together, I don’t care if we’re here, there, or on the damn moon.”
“Margaret’s been surprising everyone,” I say, warming to the topic, grateful for how naturally her name fits into our plans now. “When everything about Frank came out, I was so worried about her, but...”
“She’s tougher than any of us gave her credit for,” Colt agrees, pride evident in his voice.
Through the window behind him, I can see The Manor’s distinctive roofline in the distance, no longer looking ominous but welcoming.
“Took about a week to process it all, then she was back in her office, making calls, finding temporary staff. Hell, she’s already got The Manor running smoother than it did under Frank’s management.”
I smile, remembering her determined expression at last week’s business meeting, how she commanded the room with a quiet authority that reminded me so much of Colt.
“She told me she’d spent too many years letting others handle things for her. Said it was time she remembered she’s a Montgomery too.”
“That she is,” Colt says with a slight smirk. “Though I could’ve done without her reorganizing my entire office.”
“At least she didn’t touch your bike,” I tease, then grow more serious. “It’s good, you know? Seeing her take charge, making The Manor her own again. She’s even talking about expanding the events calendar, working with local businesses.”
Colt nods, his expression thoughtful as he watches a tour group gather outside. “Been thinking about that. Some of the people the MC’s helped recently—you know, the ones staying at the safe house? A couple of them have experience in hospitality and business management.”
“That could work,” I say, sitting up straighter, my mind already spinning with possibilities. “Give them a fresh start, and Margaret gets the help she needs.”
“Exactly. The Manor’s big enough to offer housing too, at least temporarily.” His voice softens, and I see the same hope in his eyes that I feel building in my chest. “The MC’s always been about second chances. Now The Manor could be too.”
The idea settles between us, full of possibility. Outside, the morning sun bathes the street in golden light, making even the fake cobwebs in the café windows sparkle.
“We could check in every few weeks,” I suggest. “I can write remotely most of the time anyway, and the MC makes regular runs through here.”
“You don’t play fair, Colton Montgomery,” I say, shaking my head but unable to hide my smile.
His smirk deepens as he lifts my hand to his lips. “I don’t play at all when it comes to you.”
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes against the table. The screen lights up with Skylar’s name, and I laugh as I read her message aloud.
“You better be kissing that hot, dangerous biker boy right now. And if you’re not, I’ll never forgive you.”
My best friend’s timing has always been impeccable. Our reflection catches in the window—a study in contrasts.
The journalist and the biker. An unlikely pair who found more than just the truth while saving The Manor—we found each other.
Colt chuckles, the sound low and inviting—then suddenly tugs me into his arms, pulling me across the table for a swift, thorough kiss that knocks the breath out of me.
Someone whistles from across the café, probably one of the regular customers who’s watched our story unfold these past months.
When we part, I’m left grinning like a fool, but also entirely at peace.
We may have faced monsters in the tunnels—the real and imagined kind—but sitting here with Colt in this cozy café while the morning sun casts golden light through the windows, there’s a clarity I’ve never known before.
This man, this town, these plans we’re making—everything feels right.
As Colt’s arms tighten around me, I know we’ve both finally found our true home–with each other.