Epilogue
Eliza
I stood at the edge of Throttle’s makeshift stage, my stomach doing nervous flips as I watched Cash adjust microphone stands.
The bar had transformed to more than a neutral biker bar tonight.
Like Karaoke Night the month before, the place now sported a friendlier atmosphere.
Old ladies from clubs all over came to support our fundraiser for Haven.
The entire Nashville biker community came out when we had these events.
Without fail, we met whatever goal we set.
Voices rose and fell around me, a sea of bodies shifting through the narrow walkways between tables. Leather-clad bikers in Kiss of Death and other colors chatted with local supporters. Tonight’s fundraiser would provide supplies for the shelter’s expansion into the adjoining warehouse.
Sweat dampened my palms, so I wiped them on my jeans.
I watched Cash move across the stage with practiced ease.
He wore his Kiss of Death cut over a black T-shirt.
When he turned, catching my eye across the crowded room, my heart stuttered in my chest. He’d been in my life for barely three months, yet I couldn’t imagine it without him now.
I’d made the right choice letting him into our lives. Even Ash had accepted it, though he still occasionally looked at us with a mix of regret and reluctant approval. Another step toward the family structure I’d always wanted for my daughter, even if it wasn’t the traditional one I’d once imagined.
A server brushed past, carrying a tray of beer bottles and whiskey shots.
The sharp scent of alcohol mingled with perfume and cologne, creating an oddly pleasant aroma that somehow fit the night’s purpose.
A woman in a gray blazer and pearls stood near the bar, laughing with Pippa at something I couldn’t hear.
Sponsors, donors, people with the means to help mingled with rough-neck bikers.
There were as many suits here as leather cuts.
All here because they believed in what Haven stood for.
I know I sure did. And I hadn’t needed the kind of help some of the women there did.
My gaze returned to Cash, watching as he tested the microphone. His deep voice rumbled through the speakers, checking levels with the sound guy. Several people turned toward the stage, conversations pausing briefly before resuming at a slightly lower volume.
Cash finished his adjustments and hopped down from the stage, weaving through the crowd toward me. His gaze never left me, tracking my position with the focused intensity that made my breath catch.
“You ready?” he asked, stopping just close enough that I could smell the faint scent of gasoline ever present around him.
I shook my head and gave a little laugh. “Nervous,” I admitted.
He snagged my hand, his fingers warm and steady around my trembling ones. “Don’t be. You’re amazing.”
“What if I mess up?”
“What if you fly?” he countered with a gentle smile. “Nothing to lose, darlin’. Everything to gain.”
The DJ’s voice cut through the chatter, announcing the beginning of the night’s entertainment to thunderous applause and whistles. My pulse jumped at the words, but Cash’s hand remained firmly around mine, an anchor in my sudden panic.
“You’ve got this, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “We’ve got this.”
We moved toward the stage together, my free hand pressed against my stomach where butterflies had taken up residence.
“I love you, Eliza,” Cash said before we stepped on stage. “You and Lily are both my girls. I will cherish you for the rest of my life.”
The simple declaration made my throat tight with emotion. “I love you too, Cash. We both do.”
The spotlight hit us as we climbed the steps, momentarily blinding in its intensity.
I blinked rapidly, my free hand rising instinctively to shield my eyes.
Cash’s grip tightened reassuringly, guiding me to my mark at the center of the stage.
The crowd still whistled and hollered. Cash raised his hand, waving at everyone so I followed his lead.
Cash stepped up to the microphone, his smile easy and confident as he addressed the packed bar.
“Evening, everyone,” he said, his voice carrying that Tennessee twang that had first soothed Lily in the hospital months ago.
I swallowed nervously while Cash introduced us and said some stuff.
I honestly couldn’t hear anything for the roaring in my ears.
When he finished speaking, the crowd responded with enthusiastic applause. I stood frozen beside him, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Our voices blended together on the chorus, mine higher and clearer alongside his gravel-edged baritone.
We’d found our rhythm together, both in song and in life.
Where once we’d stumbled over each other’s words, now we anticipated each other’s movements, our voices intertwining in harmonies we’d worked to perfect during stolen evenings after Lily fell asleep.
Halfway through the second verse, I risked a glance at the crowd.
What I saw nearly made me miss my cue. People had set down their drinks, conversations pausing as they turned toward the stage.
Some swayed gently to the music, others watched with expressions that ranged from surprised appreciation to outright admiration.
Several women near the front had their hands pressed to their hearts, their eyes suspiciously bright.
When we hit the bridge, Cash moved closer, his hand finding mine as we sang.
His palm was warm and slightly rough against my skin.
His touch sent a jolt through me, a reminder of how far we’d come since that first day when he’d been only a stranger with a song and a kind word for a frightened child.
Now he was simply mine. And I was his. The thought gave me courage as we approached the song’s emotional climax, our voices rising together.
The song built toward its final chorus, our voices growing stronger with each line.
Around us, the bar had fallen into a hushed reverence. I’d never experienced anything like it.
This was what reclaiming my life meant. Not just surviving, but finding joy. Not just protecting Lily, but showing her that happiness existed on the other side of hardship and hard work and, most of all, hope and the love of good people.
When the last notes faded, the bar erupted. Whistles and applause rose around us, punctuated by calls for more. The sound washed over me, both terrifying and exhilarating in its intensity.
I turned to Cash, a laugh bubbling up as relief and exhilaration flooded through me. We’d done it. His answering smile held a pride that made my chest tight with emotion.
As I moved to step away from the microphone, planning to retreat to the relative safety of backstage, Cash’s hand caught mine. His grip was firm but gentle, keeping me at center stage as the applause continued around us.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, confusion replacing my moment of triumph.
Instead of answering, he leaned down to take something from Griffin where the other man stood below the stage. The crowd’s response began to fade as people noticed his movement, conversations pausing as curious eyes focused on stage.
My breath caught as he held up a leather vest. The Kiss of Death MC patch on the back had rockers on the top and bottom reading “Property of” and “Cash.”
Cash urged me to turn my back to him as he helped me into the cut. My heart hammered against my ribs, my mouth suddenly dry as he turned me back to face him.
“I’m hoping,” he said, his voice carrying clearly through the suddenly quiet room, “that making you uncomfortable in front of all these people means you won’t say no.” His eyes never left mine, intense and unwavering. “I can’t imagine my life without you and Lily in it. Be my old lady, lil’ Liza.”
For a breathless moment, I stood frozen, overwhelmed by the significance of what he was offering.
Then, with a glad cry that came from somewhere deep inside me, I launched myself into his arms. He caught me, his strong arms lifting me against his chest as the bar erupted around us.
His warm, joyful laughter rumbled through me as he swung me around once.
“I love you,” I whispered against his ear, the words meant for him alone despite our audience. “I love you so much, Cash.”
His laugh rumbled through me, joy and relief evident in the sound. “That a yes, then?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
“Yes,” I confirmed, my own voice breaking on the word. “Yes, yes, yes.”
The crowd’s response swelled around us, whistles and cheers filling the bar as Cash held me tight.
Cash set me down gently, framing my face as he kissed me soundly.
The cheers grew louder, someone shouting “Get a room!” through good-natured laughter.
But in that moment, with Cash’s hands warm against my skin and his heart beating strongly beneath my palm, I didn’t care who watched.
Let them see. Let them know exactly what we meant to each other.
As we finally broke apart, breathless and smiling, I caught sight of Knuckles making his way through the crowd toward the stage.
The Kiss of Death president moved with deliberate purpose, his massive frame drawing curious glances as he approached.
When he reached the steps, he extended a hand to me.
“Well done, darlin’,” he said as I took it, allowing him to help me down from the stage. “Very well done.”
Cash followed, his arm slipping around my waist as he joined us. Knuckles turned to him, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“You know,” Knuckles said, his voice pitched low enough that only we could hear, “Antonio Miles personally called the state’s attorney about your girl’s case.
” He nodded toward me. “Didn’t threaten consequences or anything so crude.
Just said what was going to be happening.
Man’s got connections in places that would surprise you. ”
The name meant little to me, but Cash’s expression shifted to one of surprised understanding. “Tonio did that? For us?”
“For family,” Knuckles confirmed with a nod. “That’s what you are now. All of you.” His gaze encompassed both of us, the meaning clear. “Now, go enjoy your night. You’ve earned it.”
As he moved away, rejoining Pippa near the bar, Cash pulled me closer. “Dance with me?” he asked, nodding toward the small area that had been cleared between tables.
I nodded, unable to form words around the emotion swelling in my chest. He led me to the makeshift dance floor, his hand warm at the small of my back as we began to sway together to the music now playing from speakers.
Around us, the fundraiser continued. But in our small corner, nothing existed but the two of us and the future stretching bright before us.
“I meant what I said,” Cash murmured against my hair. “I can’t imagine my life without you and Lily. I don’t want to imagine life without you.”
I leaned back just enough to meet his eyes, my hand coming up to trace the line of his jaw. “You won’t have to,” I promised. “We’re not going anywhere.”
His smile was all the answer I needed as he pulled me closer, our bodies swaying to the music.
We’d made it through the darkness to find each other.
Whatever lay ahead, we would face it together.
No matter how patchwork a family Kiss of Death was, I knew that here, in this city, with this club, with this man was exactly where I belonged.