Epilogue - Steel
Two Years Later.
The neon sign of the Steel the Williams kids, whose dad split, leaving them and their mom with nothing. Others are new faces, each with their own story.
And there's Clarissa, moving among them with a basket of fresh bread. Her red hair catches the evening light, making it look like a living flame. She spots me through the window and smiles; that smile that still makes my heart skip a beat.
Two years, and she still looks at me like I'm something special. Still fixes bikes like they're works of art. Still kisses me breathless when I come home from a long ride.
I dismount, wincing slightly at the old bullet wound in my leg - a souvenir from our last run-in with the Morrisons. Worth it, though. Every scar, every fight, every moment of doubt - all worth it for this.
The screen door creaks as I enter, and several heads turn my way. The fear that used to greet me in this town is gone, replaced by something like respect. Maybe even gratitude.
"You're late," Clarissa says, coming over to kiss me. She tastes like cinnamon and motor oil, just like always.
"Had to make sure the prospects weren't planning any chaos," I tell her, stealing another kiss.
"Speaking of chaos," she says, a glint in her eye. "Got some news for you."
"Yeah?"
She takes my hand and places it on her stomach.
"Gonna need to add a nursery to the clubhouse."
For a moment, I can't breathe. Can't think. Then I'm lifting her, spinning her around while she laughs.
"Careful with my mechanic," Mr. Dalton calls from the table. "Best damn bike repair in the whole country."
I set her down gently, cupping her face in my hands. "You sure?"
She nods, those amber eyes sparkling. "Doctor confirmed it this morning. You're gonna be a daddy, Steel."
A daddy. Me. The thought should terrify me, but somehow it doesn't, maybe because I've got her. Got our weird, wonderful family of bikers and strays and people just trying to make it.
"Your mom would be proud," Clarissa whispers. "Of all of this. Of you."
I look around the room - at the people eating together, sharing stories and hope; at the MC patches on the wall next to Mom's old cross-stitch; at the woman in my arms carrying our child.
"Yeah," I say, pulling her close. "Think she would."
Outside, the sun sets on Hope Peak, painting the sky in shades of amber and gold. Inside, surrounded by the family we've built, I'm finally home.
Thank you for reading it!