Epilogue
Kevlar
Six Months Later
Purchasing the place where Kelsey had been brutalized made sense before that night.
His brothers agreed it was a great setup for a clubhouse.
They’d voted on it. Unanimously, they agreed and wanted it.
They’d bought the building for the Royal Bastards.
However, standing outside the building with Kelsey at his side, he had some regrets.
How was he supposed to have a clubhouse his old lady didn’t feel comfortable going to? That was a recipe for disaster. Damn, he was an idiot. This might be the first time he took a woman seriously, but he knew they had feelings for each other. She had a hell of an experience inside those walls.
This building had the perfect potential to be an epic clubhouse.
It had bedrooms, a place to host parties, offices where they could have private meetings, and it was conveniently located off the beaten path, but not out in the middle of nowhere.
They could have privacy. It was everything anyone wanted in a one-percenter headquarters.
Could she look at it the way he did?
Probably not. She wasn’t and could never be a one-percenter.
Could she see the potential?
Maybe. Eventually.
Would she remember only the brutality she experienced inside it?
He hoped not.
That night wasn’t that long ago. While Kelsey had a good therapist, she wasn’t a miracle worker. It would take months, maybe years, for Kelsey to be okay. He knew that. Bringing her here this soon was a bad idea.
He should’ve waited for the place to be remodeled. Painted. Fixed up.
Not that the outside would be any different. He could change the color, but would that even matter? Most of the work would be on the inside.
The repairs and remodels wouldn’t change a damn thing. It remained a place of trauma for her. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have purchased it. There were plenty of properties in Oklahoma City they could’ve chosen. It didn’t have to be this one.
But it did.
He’d conquered his enemies here. Kevlar had taken their clubhouse as his spoils of war. She could reclaim her power here too. They would make better memories that would erase the bad ones.
The moment they pulled up, Kelsey gripped him tighter. Clearly, she knew where she was. Unfortunately, he couldn’t back out of the deal. It was too late. He had to figure out how to make this work.
With the engine cut, they sat on his bike in silence. Kevlar ran his hand up and down her thigh to soothe her. Behind him, she trembled, but he made no move to get her off the bike. For now, they would stay still and process. They would go at her pace.
Kelsey
With her heart hammering, Kelsey stared at the enormous building. Unlike the last time she saw it, the parking lot was empty, except for her and Weston. There were no bikes under the portico. No one stood at the door patting people down, checking IDs, and ogling women.
The sun shone brightly above their heads.
Different, but the place was the same.
“Why are we here?” she asked.
“This is it,” Weston said. “This is our new clubhouse.”
“Why?” she blurted out.
Of all the buildings in Oklahoma, he picked this one. Why?
He’d been shot there. Stabbed. Carrie was raped. Kelsey was assaulted. His men had been beaten. Sure, they won the battle, but… why?
“Because we took it. It’s ours,” he said flatly.
What was he even talking about?
“Bad things happened in there, but we can’t let that control us. We conquered our enemies here. This is a symbol of our triumph. This is the place where we officially claimed our territory. It’s ours,” he explained with fire and passion in his words.
He wasn’t trying to convince her of anything. Everything he said was with conviction. It inspired her, but fear rattled about in her chest.
He wanted her inside. He expected her to help him decorate it. Could she do that? He was out of his damn mind.
She shook her head. “I’m not going in there.”
He patted her leg. With some shuffling, he got off the bike. Turning, he faced her. “You don’t have to do it now.”
She couldn’t peel her eyes away from that entranceway. She’d run out of this place, practically naked, clutching him after men had had their hands all over her body. Her skin crawled, and her stomach rolled, threatening to empty its contents right there on the ground.
“But if you want to reclaim your power, you will go inside and make it yours. Take back what the fuckheads stole from you.”
Slowly, she met his stern gaze.
“You’re a strong woman, Kitten. My woman. I believe in you. They didn’t make you weak. Sure, they tried like hell, but you’re still standing. They’re in the fucking ground. You’re not. You’re here, strong, tall, and living your best life.”
Her chin lifted slightly. She rolled her shoulders back and sat up straighter. He was right. Pete and friends tried to steal everything from her. They wanted to make her their plaything.
She refused.
She fought.
They were gone.
She remained.
Swallowing hard, she nodded. With a deep breath filling her lungs, she got off the bike.
Weston offered her his hand.
She slid her fingers along his palm and accepted it.
“That’s my woman,” he whispered. “Fierce and strong.”
Focusing on the building, she pushed the memories of her attack aside.
“This will be our castle. You are the queen,” he declared.
Inhaling a deep, refreshing breath, she attempted to fill her lungs with all his optimism and calm her nerves. This was a new start.
She shifted her attention to him and nodded. “Do I get a crown?”
A smile spread on his lips as he wrapped an arm around her. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”