Epilogue Eleven Months Later
I hardly recognized my life, and what a difference a year could make.
When I found River in that dumpster, I had no clue how my life would change or that it would be for the better.
Lakelyn was the best thing to ever happen to me, and River had become a younger brother.
Our lives within the club hadn’t been without troubles, but we always found a way to overcome them.
Lakelyn had found a job nearby as a substance abuse counselor.
She still helped many homeless people, but also worked with more veterans, which she enjoyed.
River was doing great. He’d started college in the fall as planned and was in the program he wanted.
When he wasn’t in school, studying, or hanging with friends or family, he helped Crypto with some of his work.
Crypto often told us how wickedly brilliant River was and that we needed to get him into the club.
I hadn’t pushed it. I was waiting to see if he would ask.
I thought it was likely. He’d gotten himself a bike, and we taught him how to ride.
Lakelyn worried about him, but he was a natural.
As for me personally, I’d found that I had a heart after all, and it belonged almost entirely to the incredible woman I called my old lady and wife.
Yeah, it was only two weeks after I’d claimed her in a roomful of Kings that I gave her an engagement ring.
It was six weeks after that when we said I do.
Jury had married us. Since he was our chaplain, we thought it made sense for him to get himself certified to perform marriages.
He’d done it in no time. Our chapter was there to see the ceremony, and friends from many Kings chapters came to celebrate long into the night.
That was when Scythe, his old lady, his daughter Ellie, and son Elliot met Lakelyn and River. They had attended our wedding, too.
As if that wasn’t enough to put me on top of the world, a month after the wedding, when my woman informed me she wasn’t renewing her birth control shot again, it had made me so damn happy. I’d worried she’d want to wait longer with her new job going so well, but she told me she was ready.
Despite my efforts and inability to keep my hands off her and my cock out of her, she hadn’t gotten pregnant until after the New Year, three months after her last dose.
Each month before it, when she didn’t become pregnant, I worried we might be unable to have kids.
She kept assuring me it would happen. She was right.
That was five months ago. She was showing, but not a lot.
I loved to see her belly and lie in bed, kissing her as I talked to our unborn baby.
We’d found out that we were having a son.
He was due to arrive in October. I was still nervous that I’d somehow turn into my dad, even though I had no thoughts of hurting her, not one.
Lakelyn said it would never happen. However, I talked to my officers and made them promise to protect her and our children if she ever came to them, saying I did.
It required me to share my history with them.
They’d been shocked and admitted they’d wondered about the scars.
They swore they’d protect them no matter what, which eased my mind.
It was always good to have a plan. That was another thing she’d done—brought me closer to my club brothers.
“Hey, baby, are you alright? You’re awfully quiet. Is something wrong?” Lakelyn’s voice jarred me from my thoughts.
We were on the ride home. When she went to the office in town, I tried to drive her.
Even though she was capable of it, I hated for her to do it, especially in her condition.
Plus, I was a King. No matter what, my club and I would always have enemies.
I wouldn’t let anyone take her from me. She was guarded like the treasure she was.
If I couldn’t guard her, then a brother or prospect did.
And more times than not, the prospect who did was Rémi.
I never saw that being the case. All her unease around him seemed to evaporate, and they’d become friends.
Who would think someone would come to accept their kidnapper, let alone become friends?
However, it relieved the hell out of me that they were.
He guarded her as he did his mom, sister, and nieces.
I knew he’d die to protect her. He was proving himself every inch a King.
I was glad to have him and that Rémi had found a place in Turmoil for his womenfolk to live together, where he could keep an eye on them. Lakelyn was even friends with them.
“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s actually terrific.
I was thinking about how much my life has changed since I met you and your brother.
I have the love of a fantastic woman, who is my old lady and wife.
And a son on the way,” I paused to rub her belly.
“And then your brother and a great club. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming. ”
“I feel the same way, Killian. I wouldn’t want to live without you. After losing Dad, I thought our lives would never be good again. I was so wrong. I—”
My phone rang, and it cut her off. I thought about ignoring it, but it might be important.
I had to remove my hand from her belly, which I detested, to answer it.
It wasn’t a number I recognized. When I answered, the Bluetooth hands-free system played it through the SUV's speakers. I’d gone ahead and bought one for when the baby came.
“Tyrant speaking,” I said gruffly.
“Ah, uhm, I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number. I was looking for Killian Hawke. So sorry for the trouble,” a man said hesitantly.
“You got the right person. That’s my legal name. How can I help you?” I forgot to identify myself as Killian when speaking to someone outside our club.
“Oh, good. Anyway, Mr. Hawke, my name is Clarence Street. I’m calling from the Virginia State Prison regarding your father, Kalvin Hawke.”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel at the mention of my dad’s name. I knew it was too much to hope he was finally dead. They rarely called, usually when he was hurt, even though I had told them repeatedly not to. As his only living relative, they said they had to follow protocol.
“What did he do this time? Or is he back in the infirmary again for something?” I asked without caring.
“Mr. Hawke, I’m sorry to tell you this, but your father has passed away.” Mr. Street's voice was full of regret. Disbelief warred with delight inside me.
“Say that again,” I demanded.
“Your father has died,” he repeated.
“Thank God,” I muttered.
“Excuse me!” he exclaimed.
“I said, thank God. I’ve waited years for him to die. And if you know what he’s in there for, you know why. The bastard killed my mother. Okay, so if that’s it…”
“Wait! No, we have to organize the pickup of his belongings and decide what to do with him. Where to send him for his funeral services,” Street said quickly.
“I don’t give a damn what you do with his stuff or him,” I growled.
“Sir, I need some direction.”
I thought momentarily and then asked, “What do you do with someone with no family?”
“Their things are usually donated to other inmates, and they’re cremated and buried in a grave, usually a pauper’s one in a local cemetery.”
“That’s too good for him, but if you can’t throw his ass over the hill, that’ll have to do.
And before you ask if I’m sure, I am. If you need me to sign papers to allow you to do it, send them to me.
You have my information. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m almost home, and my pregnant wife needs me. ”
“Oh, okay, uhm, yes, I’ll send you a form to sign, and if you can get that back to me as soon as possible, I’d appreciate it.”
“I will do it right away. Have a good evening, Mr. Street.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Hawke.”
As I hung up, a load seemed to lift off my shoulders—one I hadn’t known was there. Lakelyn reached over and took my right hand. She squeezed it.
“Killian, tonight let’s sit and do a celebration of your mom. She’s finally avenged. I want to hear more about her. We should celebrate the wonderful woman she was, not recall the monster he was.”
“Jesus, I love you so much, mon doux bébé.”
“And I love you as much, mon amour,” she said.
I raised our joined hands and kissed hers. The salvation of a tyrant was complete.