Epilogue
Viper
“You wanted to see me?” I ask, rapping my knuckles lightly against the door of Dragon’s office.
He starts suddenly and turns to face me. His brow is furrowed, his golden-green eyes distant, his body tense. It’s not uncommon to see him like in the days since Gunner’s death.
“Yeah. Come in. Close the door.” He clears his throat and shuffles the papers on his desk.
Stepping inside, I shut the door and drop into the chair across from his desk. Dragon leans back in his own chair, studying me for a long moment before he speaks.
“Got some information from an anonymous source today,” he says, his voice neutral but his face troubled. “The feds found Atlas’s body. Apparently, he was in a small shed on some property the Rejects owned.”
Whatever I expected him to say, this wasn’t it. Atlas. My former president. The man who was supposed to be like a father to me, who promised my actual father on his deathbed that he’d look out for me.
“They found him tied to a chair,” Dragon continues, reaching for a stack of papers on his desk. “Looks like someone, probably Naomi, left him there to die.” He pushes several printed photos toward me. “They even sent pictures.”
I glance at the images just long enough to see the slumped figure, the ropes, the decay and then look away. “Doesn’t really matter to me,” I say, the words coming out harsher than I intended. “Atlas has been dead to me since he turned his back on Kayla when Demon kidnapped her.”
Dragon studies my face, then nods once. “Fair enough.” He gathers the photos, crumples them in his fist, and drops them into the trash can beside his desk.
As he does this, he adds, “This source also warned that whoever the Rejects were working with might still be active in the area. Said we should watch our backs.”
“This anonymous source. Do you think it’s…?”
“Todd?” Dragon interrupts, his mouth twisting in disgust. “Almost certainly. Fucking asshole.”
We let the silence stretch between us for a moment, both of us content to leave the topic of Todd behind. I’m still not sure what I would do if I ran into him again. Probably nothing smart.
Dragon leans forward, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled in front of his face.
He looks at me with that unnerving intensity of his.
“When you first approached me about becoming part of my club, I wasn’t sure what you’d do once the threat to Kayla was neutralized,” he says quietly.
“If you’d stay loyal or walk away when you didn’t need us anymore. ”
The question beneath his statement is clear. Now that Naomi is dead, now that Kayla is safe, what am I planning to do? Stay with the club or walk away?
“I’m all in,” I tell him without hesitation, meeting his gaze directly. “I’ll be loyal to you until the day I die.” I pause, making sure he understands the next part clearly. “As long as you accept that Kayla comes first. Always.”
Dragon’s eyes narrow slightly, searching my face. Then he nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fair enough. That’s the way it should be.”
Dragon’s gaze drifts over my shoulder, fixing on some point on the wall. The silence stretches out, but I don’t break it. With Dragon, it’s always better to wait.
Finally, his eyes return to mine. “With Gunner’s death,” he says, his voice dropping slightly at the mention of our fallen brother, “a place has opened up among the club officers. We need a new sergeant-at-arms.”
I straighten in my chair. The sergeant-at-arms is the club’s enforcer, responsible for maintaining order, security, and discipline. It’s a position of trust and second only to the VP and president.
“You interested?” he asks.
My first thought, surprisingly, isn’t about whether I want the position. It’s about what Kayla will think. The sergeant-at-arms position comes with risks, with responsibilities that will take up more of my time, put me in more danger.
“I’ll have to talk about it with Kayla first,” I say.
Dragon chuckles, the sound warming the room. “You do that,” he says, genuine amusement in his voice. “If she agrees, we’ll put it to a vote with the brothers in church.”
I nod, rising to my feet. The conversation seems over, but as I turn toward the door, Dragon calls my name.
“Roman.”
I look back at him.
“When you first joined this club, you told everyone to call you Roman, not Viper. Said Viper was the reason you lost Kayla, and you didn’t want to be that person anymore.”
I shift my weight, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “Yeah?”
Dragon leans back in his chair, studying me. “You won your girl back. Kayla’s forgiven you.” His eyes are intent, challenging. “Isn’t it time you forgave yourself and reclaimed your full identity?”
I take a moment to consider the question.
I haven’t been Viper since Kayla left me.
I made a conscious choice to shed that name, that identity.
It represented everything I’d become that drove her away: the secrecy, the hardness, the loyalty to club over her.
But Dragon’s not wrong. Things have changed.
I’ve changed. And maybe more importantly, I know now that Kayla loves and accepts who I am, all of me, not just the parts that are easy to love.
“I’ll have to talk that over with Kayla too,” I say finally.
Dragon laughs, a full-throated sound that fills his office. “You do that, brother. You do that.”
* * *
No one throws a party like an MC. Beer flows freely, tables are loaded with food, grills are smoking, and music pounds through the speakers as my brothers and their old ladies celebrate my new position as a club officer.
I should be enjoying myself, but all I can think about is what I’m about to do, the question I’m about to ask Kayla.
My eyes find her across the room, standing with Maddie.
She’s laughing at something Maddie said, her head tilted back, her entire face lit up with joy.
She’s wearing a simple sundress, nothing fancy, but on her it looks perfect.
Her light brown hair falls loose around her shoulders, and even from here, I can see how her eyes sparkle.
It wasn’t all that long ago that I wasn’t sure I’d ever see her look at me again, let alone look at me the way she does now, with warmth, with desire, with love.
I still wake up some mornings and have to remind myself this is real, that she’s back in my life, in my bed, in my heart where she’s always belonged.
“Jesus Christ, you look like you’re about to throw up,” Demon says, appearing at my side with a beer in hand. “It’s pathetic.”
I shoot him a glare. “Shut up.”
“I mean it,” he continues, undeterred. “I can’t imagine anything more painful than watching you act like a teenage boy about to ask his first crush to prom. Just do it already so we can all stop suffering through your nervous breakdown.”
Before I can tell him where to shove his advice, Dragon appears, cuffing his brother on the back of the head. “Be nice to Viper,” he says, though his mouth twitches with amusement.
“Yes, Daddy,” Demon mutters, causing Dragon to roll his eyes.
I ignore them both, taking a long pull from my beer.
My hand is steady, but my insides feel like they’re trying to crawl out of my skin.
It’s ridiculous. I’ve faced down rival club members, been outnumbered in drunken brawls, stared down the barrels of guns, but the thought of asking Kayla to be my old lady again has me sweating like…
well like a boy about to ask out his first crush.
“Relax,” Dragon says, more gently now. “She’s going to say yes.”
“You don’t know that,” I mutter.
“I do, actually,” he says with a certainty that makes me look at him. “How that woman looks at you? She’s already yours. The cut is just a formality.”
I want to believe him. Part of me does. But there’s still that voice in the back of my head, the one that reminds me how badly I hurt her before. What if she’s not ready for this step? What if she still needs more time, more proof that I’ve changed?
Dragon must see the doubt on my face because he squeezes my shoulder once, hard enough to bring me back to the present. “Time to stop overthinking,” he says, then turns and walks toward the small platform that’s been set up for announcements.
I watch him climb up, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest. This is it.
Dragon raises his hands, and the room gradually quiets. “Listen up,” he calls out, his voice carrying easily over the diminishing noise. “Your new officer has something to say.”
All eyes turn to me. I set down my beer and cross the room, my legs feeling like jelly. As I climb up beside Dragon, I catch Kayla’s eye. She looks curious, maybe a little confused, but not worried. Not yet.
“Kayla,” I call out, my voice rougher than I intended. “Come here.”
She makes her way through the crowd, which parts for her like water. When she reaches the platform, I offer her my hand to help her up. Her fingers are warm in mine, her grip strong.
“What’s going on?” she asks quietly, her eyes searching my face.
I take a deep breath. The speech I rehearsed in my head all day evaporates, leaving me with nothing but raw truth. “I love you, sunshine. It’s always been you,” I tell her, loud enough for everyone to hear but speaking only to her. “And it always will be.”
Someone whistles loudly, and a few brothers call out suggestions that make Kayla blush. I ignore them all, focused entirely on the woman in front of me.
“The first time I made you my old lady, I did it all wrong,” I continue, painfully aware of how many people are watching this moment. “I didn’t include you in decisions that affected both of us. I kept secrets. I shut you out when I should have let you in.”
Her eyes soften, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Encouraged, I press on.
“I won’t make those mistakes again.” I turn and retrieve the cut lying on a small table next to the platform. “Kayla Sullivan, will you be my old lady again?”
I hold up the cut for her to see. The back patch reads “Property of Viper” in bold letters, with the Drago’s Inferno logo beneath it. Her eyes widen slightly, and she covers her mouth with her hand.
For a long moment, she doesn’t speak. The room is utterly silent, everyone holding their breath. My stomach knots tighter with each passing second. Maybe Dragon was wrong. Maybe I’ve pushed too far, too fast.
Then her face breaks into a radiant smile. “Yes,” she says, the single word filled with such certainty that something tight in my chest finally eases. “Yes, I will.”
The clubhouse erupts in cheers. Bottles are raised, brothers pound the tables, old ladies whoop and clap. Dragon slaps me on the back hard enough to rock me forward, and Demon lets out a wolf whistle that cuts through the noise.
I help Kayla into the cut, sliding it over her shoulders, my hands lingering at her sides longer than necessary. It fits her perfectly. She looks down at it, running her fingers over the leather, then looks back up at me with a question in her eyes.
“It’s different from the other old ladies’ cuts,” she says, examining the material more closely.
“It is,” I tell her. “I had it specially made from a company that uses vegetarian leather. No animals harmed.”
Her eyes widen, then fill with warmth. “You’re learning,” she says softly, reaching up to touch my face.
“I’m trying,” I murmur, leaning into her touch.
She rises on her tiptoes and kisses me, a brief, sweet press of her lips against mine that promises more later. The room erupts in another round of cheers and catcalls.
We spend the next twenty minutes accepting congratulations, Kayla beaming as she shows off her cut to the other women, me enduring good-natured ribbing from my brothers. But all I can think about is getting her alone.
“Ready to get out of here?” I finally ask her, my voice low in her ear.
She grins up at me, a teasing light in her eyes. “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe I’d stay and chat a bit longer.” She glances meaningfully toward Maddie and the others.
My eyes narrow. “Is that right?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she says, her smile turning mischievous. “Maddie was telling me some fascinating stories about you. Apparently, you once tried to—”
Before she can finish whatever embarrassing tale Maddie’s been sharing, I bend down and scoop her up, throwing her over my shoulder in one smooth motion. She yelps in surprise, then starts laughing and pounding lightly on my back.
“Roman! Put me down!” she demands, but I can hear the laughter in her voice.
“Not a chance, Sunshine,” I tell her, heading for the door as the room fills with laughter and cheers. “I’m taking my old lady home to remind her exactly who she belongs to.”
As we exit the clubhouse, her laughter warm against my back, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. This woman is mine. And I am hers. And this time, nothing will tear us apart.