Epilogue
EPILOGUE
ROWAN
Two Years Later
Sunday brunch at Black Dog is the hottest ticket in Wolf Pike, and I still can’t believe it’s ours. Every reservation was filled weeks in advance, tourists driving from all over and locals guarding their standing bookings like family heirlooms.
I watch from behind the counter as our son demonstrates his newest skill to his fathers. Seventeen-month-old James, with his serious little face and concentrated effort, stacks sugar packets with surprising dexterity at our corner booth.
“One more,” Brick encourages him, sliding another packet into his tiny grasp.
James’s dark hair—Brick’s through and through, confirmed by the DNA test we did mostly for medical records—falls across his forehead as he focuses on his task.
But those long fingers manipulating the sugar packets? Pure Ryder. And the mischievous glint in his green eyes when the tower inevitably topples? That’s all Maddox.
I brush flour from my apron and slide the last tray of scones into the oven before joining my family. The Sunday rush is winding down, my two sous-chefs handling the remaining orders with the precision I’ve drilled into them over the past year.
“Again!” James demands as his sugar packet tower collapses, giggles erupting from him instead of tears.
“Definitely your son,” I tell Maddox, sliding into the booth beside him.
“I resent the implication,” he protests, but his proud grin betrays him. “Though the kid does have excellent taste in entertainment. Destruction is vastly underrated.”
I look around at what we’ve built from the ashes of that shoot-out two years ago. The renovated diner bears no visible scars—sleek modern fixtures blend with rustic touches, an open kitchen gleams with top-of-the-line equipment, and the bar showcases Maddox’s growing collection of craft spirits. What was once a simple diner has transformed into Wolf Pike’s premier destination, booked solid seven days a week. Sometimes I still can’t believe it’s real—that any of this is real.
“Emma and Penny called this morning,” I tell the brothers, accepting the coffee Ryder silently passes me. “They’re coming home next weekend for Penny’s birthday.”
“Penny excited about turning eighteen?” Brick asks, subtly moving the saltshaker out of James’s reach.
“Beyond excited. She’s already talking about changing her major to business like Emma.” I smile, thinking of my sisters thriving at Riverside University, three counties away from Wolf Pike and far from any reminder of MC life. “She says the scholarship fund is the best thing that ever happened to her.”
The Kane brothers’ educational foundation for children affected by MC violence—funded largely by the garage’s success—has given both my sisters a fresh start. Emma has resumed the education she abandoned when our father found her, and Penny is getting the chance neither of us had at her age.
The bell above the door chimes, announcing Rose and Draven with their twin girls toddling between them. Owen isn’t present. Probably hanging out with Evie’s girls as always.
At fourteen months, Sophia and Olivia are a study in contrasts despite their matching sundresses—Sophia marching forward with purpose while Olivia hangs back, observing everything with solemn eyes.
“Look who’s here,” I tell James, who immediately loses interest in his sugar packets. “Your friends came to play.”
Maddox helps him down from his high chair, and he toddles toward the twins with outstretched arms. My heart swells watching him—confident, fearless, surrounded by love.
“Sorry we’re late,” Rose says, sliding into the booth beside me. “Someone couldn’t decide which stuffed animal deserved the honor of brunch attendance.”
“Sophia brought them all,” Draven explains, settling across from us. “Crisis averted.”
My friendship with Rose still raises eyebrows among those who don’t know our story. The FBI agent who helped bring down the Vipers and the daughter of the MC’s president shouldn’t have anything in common. But shared trauma creates bonds nothing can break—especially when we’ve both found happiness with men who accepted us and our secrets.
“We got the permits approved,” Draven tells Brick. “Construction on the garage expansion can start next month.”
Another unexpected success—the garage business is booming alongside the diner, custom orders backing up months in advance. Three new mechanics have been hired in the past year, with more needed as their reputation spreads beyond Wolf Pike.
“Tom and Annie still coming at noon?” Rose asks, accepting the mimosa Maddox slides her way.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I confirm. “Ben’s been talking all week about showing James his new truck.”
Our monthly “family brunch” has expanded to include not just blood relatives but found family—Tom and Annie from my old apartment building, who helped us rebuild after the shooting; Kate and her son Ben from next door; Teller and his crew; the Cross brothers with their growing family. A community built not on shared blood, but on shared loyalty.
The kind of family I never thought I’d have.
“Hey.” Maddox nudges me gently. “You okay? You’ve got that look.”
“Just thinking,” I admit. “Two years ago, I was running for my life, certain I’d never stop looking over my shoulder. Now look at us.”
My gaze turns to James, who’s showing Sophia how to stack blocks while Olivia watches critically. Three toddlers who will grow up surrounded by love, protection, and the freedom to become whoever they choose.
“He’ll never know the fear I lived with,” I say softly. “He’ll never wonder if he’s safe, if he’s loved, if he belongs. And my sisters have the chance to build lives completely removed from our father’s world.”
Brick’s hand finds mine across the table, his thumb tracing my wedding band—a simple gold circle inset with three small stones, one for each brother. Not legally recognized, but sacred in every way that matters.
“No, he won’t,” Brick agrees. “None of our children will.”
The plural hangs promising in the air. We’ve been discussing a sibling for James. Another baby to love, to complete our unconventional but perfect family.
Ryder’s attention shifts from the children to the door as Tom, Annie, and Kate arrive, Ben racing ahead to join the toddler gathering. Ryder’s hand settles on my shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of how far we’ve come.
“Refills before the chaos doubles?” Maddox offers, already standing to play host.
I lean into Ryder’s touch, my other hand still held in Brick’s, forming a circle of connection that needs no words. This is what I fought for, ran for, risked everything for—not just freedom from my father, but the freedom to create something beautiful from the ashes of my past.
James looks up, catching me watching him. His smile—bright and fearless—is everything I never dared to hope for.
And more than enough reason to believe the best is yet to come.
The End