Epilogue
NITRO
In the dim light of the clubhouse parking lot, the Las Vegas Defiance cut is stripped from my shoulders and folded with care before going into the trunk.
The leather holds the weight of everything we’ve been through, the attack, the sting, watching Sin find his mother and his old lady all in one chaotic fucking mess.
But tonight, I’m not VP.
I’m not a brother.
Tonight, I’m just a guy trying to clear his head.
I pull on a plain black T-shirt, my biceps barely fitting into the sleeves, and slide into my reliable Honda Accord—practical, comfortable, nothing that screams biker.
The engine purrs to life, and I grab my cell, opening the Uber app with practiced ease.
The familiar interface loads, and almost immediately, a request pops up.
Downtown Vegas. A Friday night pickup.
I accept it.
As I pull out of the lot, Vegas blazes to life around me. Neon lights bleed across my windshield, pinks, blues, greens, painting the night in artificial color. The Strip glitters like a promise, but I know better. I’ve seen what lives beneath all that shine.
My mind drifts to Queenie. I called her earlier, and she sounded good. Strong. The medical bills are finally under control, and seeing her thrive at the old folks’ home makes every Uber shift worth it. Every late night, every drunk passenger, every long drive—it’s all for her.
But it’s more than that too.
The open road, even caged in a car, soothes something wild in me. Something that playing my flute at the nursing home can’t quite reach. Out here, I can breathe. Process. Think about the club, about the music, about everything we’ve survived.
I turn down a quieter street, checking the pickup address. Some residential area just off the main drag. I pull up outside a modest house, the porch light casting long shadows across the driveway.
My phone buzzes with a message from my passenger.
Passenger: I’m coming out now.
Usually, I don’t get messages before I pick people up, but whatever. She must be in a rush. I wait, engine idling, watching the front door.
Then she appears.
Long, wavy red hair catches the light, tumbling over her shoulders in a way that makes me stare longer than I should. Glasses are perched on her nose. Curves that would make a weaker man stumble over his words. She’s wearing a quirky vintage band tee and jeans that hug her hips just right.
Not my usual type.
But fuck if something doesn’t shift in my chest when I see her face.
She’s crying.
Not just tearing up, full-on sobbing as she rushes toward my car, clutching a bag against her chest like it’s the only thing tethering her together. The corner streetlight illuminates the tear tracks on her cheeks, and something protective roars to life in my gut.
She yanks open the back door and collapses into the seat, a broken sound escaping her throat.
I turn in my seat, concern overriding everything else. “Hey, are you okay?”
She looks up at me through those glasses, mascara smudged under her eyes, and shakes her head. “No. Not even a little bit.”
“You wanna talk about it?” I keep my voice gentle, the same tone I use with Queenie when she’s having a rough day.
She laughs, but it’s bitter and sharp. “My boyfriend, sorry, my ex-boyfriend, just broke up with m-me.” Her voice cracks. “Said I wasn’t the right size for his friend group. That maybe when I lose a few pounds, I should reach back out to him.”
Rage flares hot and fast in my veins. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Dead serious.” She wipes at her face with the back of her hand. “Apparently, I’m an embarrassment.”
I twist fully in my seat now, meeting her eyes with an intensity that makes her blink.
“Well… fuck him!” She stares at me. “Seriously! Fuck that guy.” I gesture at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“You look damn fine to me. Real fucking good. Anyone who can’t see that is a goddamn cunt who doesn’t deserve you—” I stop myself, realizing I am providing a service, and I’m not at the clubhouse. “Sorry about the language, ma’am.”
Her eyes widen behind those glasses, fresh tears welling up, but this time there’s something different in them. Something lighter. “You think I look good?”
“Hell, yeah.” I flash her a genuine smile. “So, fuck him, right? His loss.”
A surprised laugh breaks free from her chest, watery and small, but real. “Yeah. You know what? Fuck him! Fuck that cunt!”
Smiling widely, I nod my head once and turn back to face the front. “There you go.” I shift the car into drive, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “Now, you still wanna go to the address in the app?”
“Yeah, it’s my best friend’s house. She’s letting me crash there until I can figure something out.”
I nod, but an idea strikes me.
This girl needs more than just a ride.
She needs to feel like she matters.
“You hungry?” I ask.
She blinks at me through the mirror. “What?”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
She thinks about it, then shrugs helplessly. “Lunch, maybe?”
I look at the clock on the dashboard, seeing it’s well past midnight. “That’s what I thought.” I crank up the radio, letting classic rock pour through the speakers. “First, we’re fixing this night. Buckle up.”
I take a turn toward the nearest drive-thru, and when the opening chords of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’ ” blast through the car, I start singing along, loud and completely off-key.
She stares at me like I’ve lost my damn mind.
“Come on,” I call back to her, grinning wide. “You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?”
A smile, a real one, breaks across her face, and then she’s singing too.
Her voice is sweet and a little shaky, but it blends with mine in the most perfectly imperfect way.
We’re like the damn Glee cast in this fucking Honda Accord about to get junk food through the drive-thru.
By the time we hit the chorus, we’re both belting it out like we’re headlining a fucking concert.
The drive-thru girl gives us a strange look when I order two burgers, fries, and milkshakes, but I don’t care. When I pass the food back to her, she clutches the bag like I’ve handed her salvation.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and there’s so much weight in just those two words.
“You don’t have to thank me for basic human decency.” I catch her eyes in the mirror again. “Eat. Enjoy. Tonight’s about you, not that fucking asshole.”
She glances down at the burger, hesitates as if it’s her mortal enemy.
“Don’t you dare let him destroy your self-worth.”
She looks back up at me and smiles, then devours the burger between songs, and by the time we’re rolling through her friend’s neighborhood, she’s actually laughing. The sound fills the car like music—unexpected and beautiful.
“So…” I venture as we pull up to the address. “Big plans with the bestie?”
“Wine, cheesy movies, and bitching about stupid boys.” She grins, gathering her things. “The holy trinity of heartbreak recovery.”
“Sounds exactly like what you need.” I put the car in park and turn to face her one more time.
She meets my eyes, and something electric passes between us. Something I can’t name but feel all the way down to my bones.
“Thank you. Honestly, thank you.” Her voice is soft, sincere, and it does something dangerous to my chest.
Before I can respond, the front door of the house flies open, and a petite blonde rushes out. Her eyes land on me through the windshield, and she stops dead in her tracks. “Holy shit,” I hear her mutter, giving me a full once-over that makes me bite back a laugh.
The redhead, my passenger, climbs out, and her friend immediately pulls her into a hug, but not before shooting me another wide-eyed look over her shoulder.
I watch them head toward the house, and that’s when my phone buzzes with a notification.
A tip.
I glance down and nearly choke.
She has tipped me damn near what the ride cost, with a note…
For making me believe in decent humans again.
Something warm and unfamiliar spreads through my chest—something that has nothing to do with the money and everything to do with her.
I quickly pull up the ride details, scanning for her name.
Marley Wren.
I save it in my mental files. Not to be creepy or stalkerish, just in case she ever needs another lift. Just in case fate decides to throw her my way again.
Because there’s something about this girl.
Something that makes me smile in a way I haven’t in a long time.
Something that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, like Queenie’s hugs or playing music that actually matters.
I watch Marley disappear into the house with her friend, and I sit here for a moment longer than necessary, engine idling, heart doing something strange.
Then I make a decision.
I’m done for the night.
I log out of the app, shift the car into drive, and head back to the clubhouse.
Suddenly, I have an overwhelming urge to watch cheesy movies and forget about chaos and everything that’s been weighing on me. Because tonight, I met someone who reminded me that sometimes, the smallest acts of kindness can change every-damn-thing.
I may have been the person to lift Marley’s spirits tonight, but what she doesn’t know is that she has done the same for me.
And somehow, I know, deep in my gut where instinct lives, that Marley with her red hair, quirky glasses, and beautiful curves is going to turn my world completely upside down.
I just have to hope that fate and the Uber app are on our side.
THE END