Epilogue - Alice
Three Years Later
The sound of a single motorcycle rumbling up the driveway used to make me nervous.
Now it just means Carter's home.
I'm sitting on the porch swing—our porch swing, on the house that's been mine my whole life but now feels more complete than it ever did with our three-month-old son sleeping against my chest. James Carter Blake, named after Carter's father, has his daddy's dark hair and what I suspect will be his daddy's dark eyes once they settle from that newborn blue.
He's also inherited his father's ability to sleep through absolutely anything, including the roar of his motorcycle pulling into our driveway.
Maya, now seven years old and already showing signs of being just as stubborn as her father, comes running out of the house, Biscuit at her heels. The dog is grayer around the muzzle now, moving a bit slower, but he still perks up when Maya gets excited.
"Daddy's home!" Maya announces, bouncing on her toes. "Daddy! Daddy, look what I made at school today!"
She's wearing her favorite dress, the one with sunflowers on it that she insists on wearing at least twice a week, and her hair is in the braids I spent twenty minutes on this morning. In her hands is a construction paper card covered in glitter and stickers.
Carter climbs off his bike, and three years of being a Savage Rider has settled into him in all the best ways. He's still got that dangerous edge, that awareness that comes from a life lived fighting for what's right, but there's a peace to him now that wasn't there before. A contentment.
He's wearing his cut—"Savage Riders MC" across the back, "Riot" on the front patch, along with his other patches earned over three years of brotherhood. He earned his full patch eighteen months ago, and I'd never seen him prouder except maybe the day James was born.
"There's my girl," he says, scooping Maya up and spinning her around. She squeals with delight, careful not to crumple her card, and Biscuit barks once, because he's too old for sustained excitement but still wants to participate.
"Look what I made you!" Maya shoves the card at him the second he sets her down. "It's a Father's Day card! Mrs. Henderson said we could make them early!"
Carter takes the card, studying it like it's the most important document he's ever read. The front says "BEST DADDY EVER" in Maya's seven-year-old handwriting, surrounded by hearts and stars.
"This is perfect," he says, his voice going soft in that way it only does with her. "Absolutely perfect. Thank you."
"Open it! Read the inside!"
He does, and I watch his expression change as he reads whatever Maya wrote. His eyes get a little misty, just for a second, before he clears his throat and pulls Maya into a tight hug.
"Love you too, baby girl. So much."
Then he walks up the porch steps to where I'm sitting with James. He leans down, pressing a kiss to James's head, then to my lips, a proper kiss that still makes my toes curl after three years together.
"How is my boy?" he asks, settling onto the swing beside me.
"Perfect angel," I tell him, which is mostly true. James is an easy baby—sleeps well, eats well, only fusses when he's hungry or needs changing. "How was your day?"
"Long. Good, but long." He stretches out his legs, and Maya immediately climbs into his lap, somehow fitting even though she's getting too big for it. "Did a protection run for Murphy's Grill. Some guys from out of town were causing problems. King had me and Shadow handle it."
"Everyone okay?"
"Everyone's fine. The guys won't be coming back." There's something in his voice, that edge that reminds me he's capable of violence when necessary. But it doesn't scare me anymore. "Murphy asked about you, by the way. Said to tell you he's got fresh apple pie if you want to stop by."
"Trying to bribe me with pie?"
"Is it working?"
"Maybe." I lean my head on his shoulder, careful not to jostle James. "We could go for dinner there tomorrow. Make it a family thing."
"I'd like that." His arm wraps around me, pulling me closer. Maya is chattering about something that happened at school, something involving her friend Tina and recess and apparently a very impressive bug, and Carter listens with genuine interest, asking questions and making her laugh.
This is my favorite time of day. When Carter comes home and we're all together. Just the four of us and Biscuit, sitting on this porch in the late afternoon sun, existing in our little bubble of happiness.
Three years ago, I never could have imagined this. Never could have pictured myself as a wife and stepmother and new mother, married to a man who wears a motorcycle club cut and has "Riot" as his road name.
But here I am. Here we are.
"Mommy?" Maya's voice pulls me from my thoughts. She's looking at me with those dark eyes so like her father's. "Can we have spaghetti for dinner? Please?"
Mommy. She started calling me that about a year ago, after asking both Carter and me if it was okay. I'd cried, happy tears that I tried to hide but failed, and told her I'd be honored. Carter had gotten misty-eyed too, though he'd deny it if asked.
"Spaghetti sounds perfect," I tell her. "Want to help me make it?"
"Yes! Can I stir the sauce?"
"Absolutely. But first, go wash your hands. They're covered in glitter."
Maya scrambles off Carter's lap and runs inside, Biscuit following at a more sedate pace. The screen door slams behind them, a sound that used to annoy me but now just feels like home.
Carter and I sit in comfortable silence for a moment, James still sleeping peacefully. The evening is cool, the sky starting to turn golden as the sun begins its descent.
"What did Maya write on the card?" I ask quietly. "The part that made you tear up?"
Carter pulls the card from his pocket. He'd tucked it away, and opens it, showing me the inside.
In Maya's handwriting: *Thank you for being my daddy and for giving me a real home and a baby brother and the best mommy in the world. I love you forever and ever.*
My throat tightens. "Oh, Maya."
"Yeah." Carter's voice is rough.
"She loves you so much."
"I love her so much." He closes the card, tucking it away again. "Both of them. All three of you. Never thought I'd have this, Alice. A real family. A home that's actually a home, not just a place we're staying temporarily."
I take his free hand, threading our fingers together. "You deserve this. Deserve to be happy."
"So do you." He brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "You told me three years ago that I was exactly enough. You were wrong, though."
My heart clenches. "Carter—"
"You were wrong," he continues, "because I'm more than enough. We're more than enough. This family we've built? It's everything. More than I ever dreamed of having."
Tears prick my eyes. "You're going to make me cry."
"Good tears?"
"The best tears." I lean in and kiss him. "I love you, Riot."
He grins at the road name. "Love you too, Mrs. Blake."
James chooses that moment to wake up, making small hungry noises that will escalate to full crying if I don't feed him soon.
"I'll take him inside," Carter offers, taking our son from my arms. "You get started on dinner. We'll be in to help in a minute."
I watch him walk inside, cradling James with the confidence of a man who's done this before but the tenderness of a man who knows how precious it is.
Through the window, I can see Maya washing her hands at the kitchen sink, talking animatedly about something, and Carter listening while gently bouncing James.
My family. My home. My life.
I stand and head inside, where Maya is already pulling out the pasta pot and Carter is settling into the rocking chair in the corner of the kitchen, the one we put there specifically so he could hold James while I cook.
"Mommy, can I put the water in the pot?" Maya asks.
"Let me help you so you don't spill," I say, moving to the sink.
We work together. Maya measuring water while I supervise, Carter feeding James a bottle while rocking slowly, Biscuit curled up at Carter's feet like he's been there forever.
This is my life now. Cooking dinner with my daughter while my husband feeds our son, in the house where I grew up, surrounded by memories old and new.
"You know what I was thinking?" Carter says from the rocking chair. "Maybe this summer we could take a real vacation. Rent a cabin somewhere, just the four of us. Let Maya see some mountains, maybe some lakes."
"I'd love that," I say, stirring the sauce Maya handed me. "Maya would love that too."
"Can Biscuit come?" Maya asks immediately.
"Of course Biscuit can come," Carter confirms. "Wouldn't be a family vacation without him."
Maya cheers, and I smile, already imagining it. The five of us, because Biscuit counts, somewhere beautiful and peaceful, making memories that Maya and James will carry with them forever.
Later, after dinner is eaten and dishes are washed and Maya is in bed with her nightly story read by Carter, we finally collapse onto our own bed. James is on his crib in the nursery, finally sleeping for what will hopefully be a solid four hours.
Carter pulls me against his chest, and I curl into him like I've been doing for three years, like I'll do for the rest of our lives.
"Good day?" he asks.
"The best," I tell him honestly. "Every day with you is the best."
"Even when James keeps us up all night? Even when Maya has a meltdown over something ridiculous? Even when I come home exhausted from a long day with the club?"
"Especially then," I say firmly. "Because those are real moments, Carter. Real life. Not some fairy tale where everything is perfect all the time. This is better than perfect. This is ours."
He's quiet for a moment, his hand tracing lazy patterns on my back. "Three years ago, I was just passing through Blackwater Falls. No plan beyond the next meal and the next town. Maya and I were living out of motel rooms and my saddlebags."
"And now?"
"Now I'm home." He presses a kiss to my hair. "You're my home, Alice. You and Maya and James. This house, this town, this life we've built. I'm not running anymore. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
Tears slip down my cheeks: happy ones, the kind I seem to cry a lot these days. "Me too. You saved me, you know. That first night, yeah, but also every day since. Saved me from believing I was too much. Saved me from settling for less than I deserve."
"You saved me right back," Carter says quietly. "Gave me a reason to stop running. Gave Maya a mother who loves her like she's always been yours. Gave me a family worth staying for."
We lie there in the darkness, holding each other, listening to the house settle around us. Somewhere down the hall, I hear James make a small sound but then settle back into sleep. Biscuit's tags jingle as he repositions himself in his bed.
Everything is peaceful. Everything is right.
"Carter?" I whisper.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Thank you for staying. For choosing us. For being exactly who you are."
His arms tighten around me. "Thank you for wanting me to stay. For loving all of me, the broken parts and the dangerous parts and everything in between."
"Always," I promise. "I'll always want you. All of you."
We fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, in our home full of love and laughter and the beautiful chaos of the family we've built together.
This is our happily ever after. Not perfect, but real. Not a fairy tale, but something better.
This is us, Riot and Alice and Maya and James and even Biscuit, somehow, making a life together in Blackwater Falls.
And I wouldn't change a single thing.
Thank you for reading it!