Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
Callie
The gun buzzed steadily in my hand as I moved it in a straight line down the arm of the man in my chair.
He was getting a new skull with roses blooming from the skull, with the MC labeled across the bottom of the image.
I’d been working at Dead Roses for roughly two months now, and while it was an amazing job and a thousand times better than what I had in DC, I had a lurker.
Taking a quick break, I swiped over the line I’d just drawn and sat up in my chair, heaving a sigh.
“Are you going to sit there the whole time?”
Wes lowered his cell phone but kept his boot up on the edge of the shelving system.
“I’m the owner, it’s my job to be here.”
My coworkers all smothered laughs around me. I had overheard one of them saying they didn’t like me working here because they always felt like Wes was literally staring over their shoulder while they worked. It was tense, and no one ever felt like they could relax as long as the boss was around.
“Babe.” I tore my gloves off, placing a piece of plastic over the work I’d done and glaring at my husband. “You can’t come with me to work every day.”
Moving his phone, he smirked.
“Actually, I can. You only work part-time; it’s perfectly timed with my schedule.”
There were more smothered laughs and throats being cleared.
Frustrated, I stood and pulled him into the break room, but before I could open my mouth, he was placing his finger over my lips to stop me.
“You’re married to the president of a motorcycle club. Until Killian officially takes over, I have to worry about your safety, and I’m not taking any risks. Especially now that you’re pregnant.”
The fight fled from me. I knew he was right, and I wouldn’t do anything to put the baby at risk, so I considered a compromise.
“Okay, fine, but you can’t be back there while I work. It’s not fair to everyone else.”
Wes pulled me closer by the loop of my jeans, until his mouth was practically at my forehead.
“Fine, but you have to wear your property patch when you ink club members. I don’t need them thinking just because you’re touching them that they can touch you.”
Pressing a quick kiss to his throat, I smiled.
“Fine.”
Tipping my head back, Wes captured my mouth in a lingering kiss.
“Fine.”
I left my husband in the break room as I returned to my client and finished his tattoo. By the time I was done, I was ready to head home. I was planning something with Sasha and Laura for a big Christmas-themed party.
For three months, I lived in a bubble with the man I loved, the club I finally warmed to, and my best friend, who was integrating with the club as best as she possibly could.
She worked as Red’s new assistant, which I wasn’t even sure was a thing, but the books needed a new set of eyes, and Laura had a good sense for numbers.
She’d been living in the apartment Wes and I vacated, which as far as I knew was going well.
She’d even befriended Natty, which was nice for me because it meant more girls' nights, which meant I probably should include her in the party plans.
I grabbed my phone to jot down a note when all the sudden the bell rang over the front door, making my head pop up.
I heard the receptionist speaking to someone, and then Wesley’s booming voice was cutting in. I set my things inside my purse and made my way out into the front, stopping when I saw a familiar man.
I’d seen his picture somewhere…
He was thin framed, wearing a button-down shirt and khakis, carrying a recorder and tablet.
“Mr. Ryan, I received your email. Thank you for agreeing to meet me in person, one on one. As I said a few months ago, a public barbeque wouldn’t have felt safe to me,” the man said, gripping the shoulder strap to his leather bag.
Wes smirked, ignoring me as I walked up. He did it because he wouldn’t reveal his weakness, and I knew that but still stuck around, being nosey.
“You’re the blogger, right? The one posting all the ballot measure stuff about the clubs?”
It finally clicked in my head. That’s why he was familiar to me, his picture had been in one of the Instagram images. Not on his profile, but the secondary one I found that invaded clubs’ personal lives and privacy.
The blogger swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob. “Yes.”
Wes stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Wesley Ryan. Owner of Dead Roses and President of The Stone Riders Motorcycle Club.”
The man nervously slid his hand into my husbands. “Jeff Hynes.”
“Great, Jeff. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this group you’ve got going on.”
Jeff narrowed his focus on me for some reason, maybe because I was just standing there doing nothing.
“I’m not sure what we’d have to discuss, Mr. Ryan.
You stand for everything I’m fighting against. I’m pushing to get your clubs shut down, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.
I know you think you’re so strong, but the cops and the mayor are on our side.
They’re sick of the violence too. There was a random shooting here just a few months ago, and it was completely covered up.
There are internal investigations that are starting, and we’re not going to stop making noise until they hear us.
We’re done having you here in Rose Ridge. ”
Whoa. The guy was brave, I’d give him that.
I flicked my gaze up to catch Wesley’s golden stare and couldn’t help but smile. He was so sure of himself, this boy who once went to church camp and now controlled one of the most powerful clubs in Virginia. I never thought I’d be proud of him in this role, but I was.
Really fucking proud.
“Well I won’t stop you from pushing your agenda, but you should know we won’t stop pushing ours either.”
Jeff glanced at me again, making me feel slightly uncomfortable.
“Is that a threat?”
Wes laughed, tipping his head back.
“No, little man, you’ll know when I threaten you. For example, look one more time at my wife, and I’m going to shove that pen through one of your eye sockets.”
Jeff’s face flushed red, but I noticed his eyes didn’t budge from directly in front of Wesley now.
Adjusting his strap once more, he inclined his head. “Rumor has it you’re stepping down as president. You don’t scare me. Without the club, you’re not as intimidating as you think you are.”
Wesley’s gaze fell to the floor, but that smile on his face only increased in size.
“You know what, Jeff, you’re right. I am stepping down soon, but guess what? You think I’m intimidating? You won’t like the wolf who’s coming after me.”
Jeff scoffed.
“That supposed to scare me, or something? Let me guess, he’s bigger and more terrifying than you?”
Wes lifted his head, gesturing toward the street through the glass window.
My hand came up, covering my mouth as I watched Jeff’s expression catch on to what the man near his car was doing. Wearing his Stone Riders cut, Killian smiled while pouring gasoline all over the small blue Prius. I assumed it belonged to Jeff.
“Make your own decision about how scary he is, but there he is now. I guess he didn’t like the way you were staring at his sister. Good luck shaking his fangs from your neck now. You want to wage a war on my club, it’s him you’re going up against.”
Killian gave a little wave through the glass window then brought out a metal zippo from his jeans and flicked open the lid.
Jeff screamed, running for the door right as Killian threw the lighter on the car.
It went up in flames, and Killian disappeared as a truck came and then zoomed off.
Wes grabbed my elbow and pulled me in the back while Jeff ran toward the front, yelling for people to help him.
I grabbed my things and followed my husband out through the back entrance and got into the truck, hating myself for the smile I couldn’t shake.
This life was crazy, but it was mine, and I was embracing every single messed-up, sordid detail that made up who I was raised to be.
The wife of the most powerful man in Rose Ridge, and even when that title shifted, I’d be the sister to the wolf of Rose Ridge.
This was going to be insane.
But I wasn’t missing it for anything.