Epilogue
Christina
It’s been over three months since the whole debacle at Hydro Relief.
Long story short, REACH is being stripped apart piece by piece.
The investigators are still digging through the evidence from my flash drive, and what they found when the feds got a search warrant for REACH’s corporate office on the East Coast. There is no telling how deep the corruption goes because the feds don’t talk about open cases.
Arrests have already been made. Neal Summers is locked up in a federal holding site and has been denied bail as he’s deemed a flight risk.
Hanley and the REACH suits were arrested and transferred to federal facilities as well.
Everything that ever posed a danger to me is getting taken apart by the feds.
Morgan is building his own case against Hydro Relief locally. He visits the clubhouse once a week to update Jasper and Rock and talk about theories on how a situation like this got so out of control without anyone realizing it. Slate’s family enjoys solving crimes almost as much as the cops do.
Meanwhile, Katie is blossoming into a confident preschooler.
She’s even gone back to her own bed and has been sleeping through the night again.
She seems happier, laughs louder, and follows her dad everywhere.
The puppy is glued to her heels. Slate has convinced her that he’s going to become her guard dog.
She struggled to come up with a fierce name and ended up choosing Growlbert, Bertie, for short. So, that happened.
Queenie has been living her best life, with Rock now retired from the club president’s position and Tessa helping out with the day-to-day running of the clubhouse it means she gets to spend more time with her grandkids. Katie is downstairs with Queenie right now, elbow deep in cookie dough.
It’s great because it frees me up to work on an autobiographical book that may or may not ever get published about everything I’ve been through.
Queenie thinks it’ll be therapeutic to write it all out.
And to think about the one last secret that I’m keeping from Slate.
My hand goes to my jeans’ pocket, and I find evidence of the secret still resting safely there.
When Slate walks into the family suite on a quiet Sunday morning and says, “Come on, I want to show you something,” I don’t hesitate to jump up and follow him outside.
We get on his bike and instead of getting onto the interstate, we ride deeper into the club’s property than I’ve ever gone. We pass the training range, the old barn with flaking red paint, and the line of pines that marks the edge of the outer compound.
I ride with my arms around Slate’s waist and my cheek resting against the back of his cut. I’ve come to love being on the back of his bike. I can even pick out the sound of his engine in a crowd. The wind cuts through my clothing. The sun is warm on my back.
He takes a narrow dirt trail that curves around the back of the mountain ridge.
It’s unfamiliar, one I haven’t seen any of the prospects or brothers use.
Slate rides slowly, taking his time as he navigates around rocks and roots.
I’m excited as we bump along to see this mysterious thing he wants to show me.
A few minutes later he stops at the edge of a clearing I didn’t know existed. When he kills the engine, the area feels quiet. Slate pulls off his helmet, hangs it on his handlebars, and waits while I take mine off. When our helmets are hanging side by side, he helps me off his bike.
“This is a really beautiful area,” I tell him. “It looks pristine and untouched.”
There’s a patch of wild grass and a bunch of trees in the background swaying gently in the breeze.
Slate pulls something out of the back compartment on his bike before leading me forward to a ridgeline that dips into a shallow curve, creating a natural cradle of stone and earth.
It has a magnificent view for miles in every direction.
It’s not a typical scenic overlook, but it’s close.
He spreads out a small quilt and pulls me down to sit along the edge with him. Something about this moment feels important, like he’s trying to create a special moment and doing a bang-up job of it.
He drapes one arm around me as we take in the view.
“You won’t find this place on any map,” he tells me quietly.
“I can see why. It looks totally untouched.”
“My dad brought my mom up here once when they were young. It was before they bought the property and before they even had the idea to start an MC. He said it was the one place on earth as beautiful as she was, and that’s the moment he realized that he wanted to stay here and make a life with her.”
I feel my heart beat a little faster. “Did he bring you here often?”
“Only once. Right after I fought my way out of Afghanistan, after putting you on that flight. I hadn’t told anyone what happened, or why I got a dishonorable discharge.
I couldn’t eat or sleep and felt disconnected from the world.
” He glances at the landscape below before speaking again.
“My dad brought me up here and told me this land holds my best chance at a decent future. He told me that if club life wasn’t for me then I should pick a spot and build a house of my own. ”
I gasp because that doesn’t sound like the Rock I know.
The one who’s one hundred percent behind the club.
It takes me a second to realize he was giving up his dream of having his sons rise to positions of power in the club because seeing him happy was more important.
“Rock loved you enough to set you free to choose a different course in life. I think that is really sweet.”
“Yeah, me being so despondent must have really freaked him out and made him reassess everything he thought he knew about me. I told him it wasn’t being in the club that was the problem, but what happened in Afghanistan.
I broke down and told him everything that happened.
He helped me get my head screwed on about it. ”
“Your parents are good people, Slate. You lucked out in the parent category. And Katie’s lucky to have them in her life.”
“I agree. My old man gave me one piece of advice that day that really stuck with me. He told me to stand on this ridge when you need to know what direction your life is headin’. So, that’s what I’m doing by bringing you here today, darlin’.”
My heart is pounding in my chest. I’m already sitting here in his property cut, so us staying together permanently must be the next step in his world.
His hands find my hips, fingers warm through the denim. The wind lifts a strand of my hair and brushes it across his cheek. He doesn’t look away.
“I almost lost you,” he says. “Twice. Once in Kabul. Once here. I don’t want to live a life without you in it, so I’m gonna give you the same choice my old man gave me.
If you want to be with me but can’t accept club life, I’ll build us a home on our property.
I can go to the club and work every day like it’s a regular job and come home every evening to you and Katie. ”
I find myself shaking my head before he’s even finished making his offer.
“No. I want to stay at our apartment in the clubhouse. I feel safe and connected there. I love being around Queenie and Tessa. I also like helping out around the clubhouse. We’re becoming close friends and I have you to thank for giving me the family I never really had. ”
He lifts one hand and brushes his thumb along my cheek. “I want a life with you too. I’m glad my overly enthusiastic family and roughhousin’ club ain’t a dealbreaker for you.”
Before I can respond, he reaches into the pocket of his cut and pulls out a small, dark velvet pouch. He opens the pouch, pulls out a gorgeous ring, and holds it up so that it sparkles in the sunlight. “You accepted my property cut. Now I want you to accept my ring. Say you’ll marry me.”
I swallow thickly as I look it over. The ring feels substantial in my hand.
It’s got to be three carats. The band is platinum.
The Sons of Rage insignia is inscribed on the inside of the band where only I can see it.
He’s giving me a piece of himself with this ring. I love everything about this moment.
My emotions overflow and tears gather in the corners of my eyes as I nod and tell him, “Yes, of course I’ll marry you. You’re all I’ll ever need or want.”
He closes his eyes briefly, then takes the ring and slides it onto my finger. I watch, equal measures shocked and thrilled to be engaged to the man of my dreams, the only man I’ve ever truly loved.
When I look up, Slate pulls me into him and his lips find mine, as if he’s sealing our agreement with a kiss. The whole world ceases to exist in that moment. When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine.
“From now on, you’re mine,” he whispers. “And I’m one hundred percent yours. You don’t have to worry that I’ll ever stray. The men in my family are extremely loyal to our women.”
My voice is thick with emotion when I respond, “It’s because your parents raised you to be decent men.”
He doesn’t deny it because we both know it’s true. Queenie has a lot of stories about things that went wrong and how she fixed them.
I pull back and tell him, “I actually have an engagement gift for you.”
He grins, “What did you get the biker that has everything?”
Pulling out that one last secret from my pocket, I hand it to him. “I got you another of something you already have.”
He stares down at the piece of plastic. The plus sign in the window of the pregnancy test. If I’m being honest, he seems dumbfounded and I’m not sure if he realizes what it is.
It takes him a second to work it all out in his head, but when his head lifts, he has the biggest smile on his face.
He throws his arms around me and drags me close.
“It’s the best gift you could have gotten me. ”
“Are you sure about that, babe? It’s a homemade gift.”