Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Killian
There was a strange peace that had settled into my life, after finding my mother.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when Natty had said the name of the other woman in the club with her, that had been trapped there. To be honest, my mind hadn’t really processed that she was real. That there was a universe in which my mother was actually alive, and within arms reach.
Laura’s hand still found a way over my chest some mornings, where she’d stroke over the daisy inked there. The one I’d gotten after my mother left me, and I was old enough to mark myself with a memory of her. Those mornings, she seemed to understand that I needed to lie in silence while I stared at the ceiling. I’d hold her hand there, over my heart and we’d just breathe.
Emotion would clog my throat, and I’d find a way to thank whatever powers at be allowed my mother to find her way back into my life. Laura’s easy smiles and friendly demeanor towards my mom was also something I marveled at. I knew deep down parts of her resented my mom for leaving, just like some pieces of me still did. Even if she’d explained why…it didn’t change the outcome.
That I was left all alone, with no one but Simon, and the Stone Riders to raise me.
“Let’s give it some time,” Laura would remind me.
She would follow the same advice with her own mother, who she was still trying to patch up old wounds with.
“We need a bigger house.”
Glancing up from my phone, I stared at Laura. She was in the middle of jotting down something in one of her lyric books. She kept them all over the house, in the truck, her new car, and even one in my saddle bag, on the bike.
“What?”
She looked up, meeting my gaze, still leaning over her book, elbows propped on the counter. “Well, your mom is in the guest room for the foreseeable future. My mom asks to visit all the time now. We need a bigger house.”
I set my phone down and moved so I was behind her, pulling her hips into mine. I had the ring I planned to give her in my closet, buried in one of the closet drawers I kept ammo in, so she wouldn’t find it.
“And what about us…would we need a bigger house for just our little family?”
Her hands came over mine, where they gathered at her waist. Without seeing her face, I knew she had a smile spread across it.
“Are you asking if you can knock me up?”
A laugh bubbled up my chest, “I’m asking if you picture that at all?”
We hadn’t been together long, but I knew I wanted to marry her. I knew I wanted a life with her. There wouldn’t ever be another for me.
“I like the name Royce.”
I kissed her cheek and spun her around. “For a boy’s name?”
Her hands came up around my neck right as my mother walked into the living room. Her dark hair wet, braided down her back.
Laura giggled, but didn’t move. “For a girl’s name actually.”
Royce Quinn.
I pictured a little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, one that liked to sing like her momma. One that had the heart of a wolf inside of her, just like her dad.
“I love that name,” my mom said, smiling at us both.
Laura moved out of my arms and walked over to the table. “Thank you, Rachel.”
I hated that my mom still looked nervous around us. Like she was imposing.
“When you need the extra room, I can find a different place to?—”
Laura’s hand shot out to my mom’s arm, her eyes narrowed. “When we are ready to have children, there will be plenty of room for them, you and my mom. You are welcome here long past all the seasons we’re about to endure, Rachel. You are his home, just as much as I am.”
Laura was talking about me, and my heart flipped in my chest. Was it possible to love her more than I already did?
My mom flicked a hesitant gaze my way, and I knew she wouldn’t believe what Laura said unless I told her.
“Mom, want to go get some lunch with me?”
Laura already knew I wanted to talk to my mom alone. She’d explained herself to me, and I listened without interrupting, trying to understand what she was telling me. I saw Silas, and knew he was a fucked up man and if his father was responsible for that mess, then I knew what she had done for me was a gift.
I had to slowly start building our relationship up. It had been almost twenty three years since she’d seen me, been around me, or involved in my life in any capacity. That was an entire lifetime. We couldn’t simply just pretend our way into this thing, we had to build it.
My mom smiled, moving toward her purse.
“Sure.”
We walked outside, both of us wincing at the bright sun. It felt like a new era for the Stone Riders. The immediate threats were put to rest, but there were still lingering ones that I could feel brewing. Concerns that I didn’t want to think about until I had no other choice to.
“I like her, Killian. Not that my opinion holds any weight at all but I couldn’t have pictured a better person for you. Laura is your match.”
That burning sensation in my chest that I got when I considered that very thing about Laura, flared to life. Red had said almost those exact words to me. Grief tangled with the pride I had over being with Laura. Over her choosing me and wanting this life.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Gravel crunched as we walked, until we stopped at my truck. I was about to open the door for my mom when I saw a tear fall down her face.
“I used to wonder if I’d miss all this…these moments of yours. When you’d find the one, fall in love and start having children. I would be stuck in one of Fable’s houses, doing some mundane chore, and I would imagine what you’d smile like. How you’d laugh, or blush. I’d think of what you must look like standing at the altar, waiting for her.” More tears fell from her lashes.
“For whatever reason, you’ve found me worthy enough to be here, and witness this. I just want you to know I’m grateful. I’m so honored to be here, with you son. To get a chance to maybe meet my grandchildren, if you and Laura are so blessed with that. To get to see you happy like this, it's been the greatest joy of my life.”
My heart split open, my mind going back to that day when I was nine years old. The very last time I saw her. The grief I carried over losing her, and I pulled her into my chest, hugging her as tightly as I could.
“I love you. I used to look at the stars and I’d pray you’d somehow come back to me.” My throat began to grow tight as my own tears began flowing.
She hiccupped into my chest, until we had both stood there for a long while, just crying and existing. Once we pulled away, she swiped at her face.
“Fable once talked about how his son had gotten lost, and fallen in love with a star. I thought he was drunk, but it’s odd that she was the reason I was able to come back to you. It’s as if the stars listened to you, Killian and delivered me home.”
I gave her one last hug before helping her into the truck, and then glanced up at the sky.
Whatever the reason was, I wouldn’t take it for granted.
Bloggers Against Bikers:
Motorcycle Mayhem Hits Rose Ridge Once Again
Article by E?dVi0lence56:
It should be no surprise to any of you that I’m writing yet another piece regarding the biker gangs of Virginia. It seems our letters to the senate, and even the president have gone ignored. We’ve even gone as far as taking things into our own hands to rid our cities of this plague of bikers, and yet they continue to thrive.
Here is yet another reason we need to come together and ban their clubs from gathering.
As you can see in the photo pictured below, the small town of Rose Ridge was flooded this weekend with hundreds, if not thousands of bikers. The streets were packed with the headache-inducing sounds of their loud exhausts, and when so many of them are together, it caused windows to rattle, and small children to stay indoors.
Many people reported an inability to access roads. Routes to the grocery store, gas stations and even the hospital were blocked because of how many bikers were traveling together. While we’re somewhat used to seeing the local Stone Riders traveling in groups from time to time, this instance was concerning because various clubs from around Virginia were seen.
Mayhem Riot from New York was seen with at least a few hundred riders. The Death Raiders , being led by someone new, from what we’d last gathered. We will have to look into that in our next article because it seems several of these clubs are under new governance. Sons of Speed was also seen in attendance, a new president leading their group as they entered city limits. Lastly, The Chaos Kings from Richland were seen with well over four hundred members traveling through town. Their arrival created a traffic jam that lasted nearly an hour for locals.
We try to avoid these bikers at all costs because as you know, they each wear what’s called a one percenter patch, meaning they live outside the law of our land, and use their own governing rules to live by. It creates violence and other disorder that isn’t needed or respected in small towns like ours. However, for the sake of the story, we did grab one person for a direct quote on why the mass gathering.
According to Harris Kline, of the Stone Riders , he said, “When a great man dies, it creates a ripple so strong in the community, that there’s only one choice but to show up and pay tribute. Especially when he dies twice.”
We aren’t sure who exactly has passed away, or what he’s referring to that would give us any indication as to how long these bikers will be in town, but I urge everyone to be on high alert.
We can end this biker era together if we stay strong and continue to fight.
Callie
This felt like deja vu but in the most sickening way possible.
I was standing in the same cemetery, nearly the same clothes, and staring at almost the same exact scene. Except this time, I was front and center, not on the fringes of the crowd.
My father passed away exactly two months and one day after my son came into this world. We had the most beautiful eight weeks together, where I got to watch him hold my son, sing over him, and smile down at his little cherub face. He’d hold him in his arms while he sat on his bike, even if it wasn’t turned on, he’d sit there and talk to him about riding.
He talked about how to lead.
How to protect and how to love.
Wes gave my hand a gentle squeeze as the preacher started a new prayer for everyone to join in on. This time, the preacher wasn’t a dig at my dad, whereas during his last funeral I’d done it just because I wanted to. This time, it was at Sasha’s request because my father had found God during his last few months on earth .
I was happy for him.
So, the preacher said prayers, and certain words that didn’t register much for me, but it felt like peace. My mind threw back the image of the last time I’d been here, burying my father, when I’d seen Wes standing at the grave…how my heart had felt like it had turned inside out at the mere sight of him.
A smile snuck along my mouth as people from the club began pouring dirt, leaving roses and whiskey on my father’s casket.
I went back to the last time I watched a member do this.
My father had faked his death to bring me home, and in turn, I’d found a way back into the arms of Wes Ryan, and managed to claim a few extra months with my father before death took him from me for good. What my father did for me…for us, it went beyond just being a good dad. He gave me a second chance at life with the only boy I ever loved, and he did that by risking everything.
No one was even supposed to know he was still alive, after he’d acted all this out…but then when he’d heard about the attack from the Chaos Kings all those months ago, he’d shown up. I learned later that he’d done that because Silas told him I was inside.
He was the best dad in the whole world, and now he was gone.
Wes held my hand as we moved forward in line. Sasha was holding Ford, as tears slipped down her face. She’d asked as a favor if she could hold my son because she said Ford had become my father’s favorite thing about living, and she wanted to hold him as close to her heart while she allowed it to break.
Laura, Killian and Rachel were behind us. I hadn’t really looked up from my spot in front of the casket to see who else had attended, but as I stepped to the side, my gaze widened, and my feet faltered.
Wes caught me, helping to steady me. “River.” His whisper slid in through my heart, just like it always did. He knew why I’d nearly tripped, and why tears flooded my eyes. He knew that my heart would be pounding against my chest, as if it needed an exit point from my body.
“They all…” my sentence stopped, as emotion clogged my throat.
Wes pressed a kiss to my ear, then stroked my rib. “Yes, River. All of them. They all came to pay tribute to your dad. ”
The entire cemetery was surrounded by black leather and denim.
Giles walked through a group of bikers, with Brick next to him, both of them wearing their cuts and shades. I saw a few other members doing the same. Two members from Sons of Speed, and the new president of The Death Raiders. Mayhem Riot was in route as well, all the leaders moving toward my father’s casket. The multitude of members that rode with them surrounded the service, shoulder to shoulder, rival clubs all standing in unison as they paid tribute to my father.
Silas stepped out of the line, which trailed behind Killian to embrace the new leader of The Death Raiders. I remember seeing him before, his patch read: Lance. He hugged Silas like the two were brothers, but Silas no longer wore the colors from their club. Lance’s gaze clashed with Killian’s and tension seemed to fill the sticky air.
“Ryan,” Lance finally broke his stare with Killian and tipped his head to my husband then smiled at me, “Callie.”
I waved but Killian’s glare had me hesitating.
“We’re all here to pay tribute.” Giles said, probably sensing the tension. He probably knew whatever bad blood was brewing between those two from how long he’d been with The Stone Riders.
A tall, thin man wearing the president patch for Sons of Speed stepped near our circle and gave me a soft nod. “And offer a truce…for a time, not forever.”
The leader of Mayhem Riot, Archer Green stepped closer, and cast a glare at my husband. Archer was close to Killian’s age, but probably older than his early thirties like my pseudo brother. His blond hair was longer, wild and mostly tied back with an elastic. He wore a crisp white shirt under his cut, and a long silver necklace with a cross hanging around his neck. Something passed between Wes and the president before Archer looked at me. “Sorry to hear about your dad, he was a good man. He spoke of you often.”
I tipped my chin to catch Wesley’s gaze, because I had no idea why my dad would have been talking to Archer Green, especially about me. Mayhem Riot was located in New York, which wasn’t far from Virginia, but there wouldn’t have been any reason for my dad to go there.
Wes pulled me back into his chest as Killian took over the conversation with the members and we got lost amongst everyone else there to grieve and remember my father. It wasn’t until we were the only ones left at my dad’s headstone, Ford tucked into my arm when Wes finally let out a sigh, and slipped out of his cut. He’d started doing that more when it was just us. He wanted to remind me that we were more than the club, and while I settled for him being a part of it, he was also amazing about being able to be separate from it.
“Your dad used to pay Archer to send some of his men to watch over you when you traveled to New York for tattoo expos.”
What. I lifted my head, searching his expression.
“You watched over me through those years…are you saying my dad did too?”
Wes pulled my hand into his while our son remained cradled in my arms. “Your dad was never aware of my stalking tendencies, River. He missed you, watched out for you and even had his own ways of getting updates on you that never came through me.”
My heart felt strangely full and broken all at once. Seven years I was away from my dad, and while I had my reasons, they all felt so insignificant now that he was gone.
“I never knew he kept tabs on me. I never knew you did either…I just assumed?—”
Wes kissed the palm of my hand, giving me that easy smile that reminded me of the nine year old boy who used to tell me stories of Peter Pan and Wendy in his tree house.
“You assumed you could leave our world and we’d forget you? Remember what I told you when we were fifteen? You wanted to use a fishing metaphor because you assumed that one day I’d want a fancy, trad wife with a membership at a country club and to attend bible studies on the weekends or something.”
His laugh made my smile stretch. I was so convinced at fifteen that he would never want to keep me because of the dysfunctional life I lived, the biker princess with no money and no hope to ever leave this place.
Wes continued, “You said you’d be just like one of the fish I hooked and released back into the sea. I told you that if you wanted to use a fishing metaphor then you’d be the river, not the fish. Same always went for your dad…he loved you, Callie. While this club was his world, you were at the center. ”
Resting my head against Wesley’s shoulder, I stared at the lettering across my father’s headstone and instead of a fresh wave of tears, I smiled feeling fresh hope fill my chest.