Epilogue
A few months later…
ZANE
Things are starting to calm down for the MC.
They’re not calm yet, but getting there.
And I’ve been feeling so cooped up at the clubhouse lately, given that my most wanted fugitive status prevents me from doing much for the club, at least during the day.
So when Sienna suggested a long ride along the coast, I jumped at the chance.
The sun is low in the sky and now that we’re out of the LA morning traffic, the air actually smells fresh. And the empty road before us promises so much possibility.
“Turn there,” she tells me and points at a winding road that leads up a soft hill not far up ahead. To our right the ocean is glimmering in all its glory, and I bet the view from up the hill she pointed out will be fantastic. Probably why she chose that road.
We can communicate clearly via the mics in our helmets now, one of the many gadgets that the MC has access to.
I think Creed is only truly happy when he gets to buy the latest gadgets.
He’s even talking about getting an all-electric bike one of these days, but that’s getting mixed reviews from the brothers and sisters.
We crest the hill and I start looking around for a place to park so we can spread out our blanket, watch the ocean, and take a good long break from riding. There’s nothing much atop this hill, except a few houses spaced very far apart. I bet you can actually see the stars from up here.
“This way,” Sienna says and points down a long driveway with a small house in the distance. The windows on the front of it are reflecting the ocean, the windows on the back the soft morning light.
“Why? Who are we visiting?”
She said nothing about us visiting anyone on this ride and while I don’t like being surprised by things like that, I’ve also accepted that Sienna does what she wants.
“Just do it,” she says and I can hear the smile in her voice.
Whatever it is, I will like it. I can tell from the tone of her voice and the fact that she loves to take care of me. Just as much as I love to take care of her.
There are no cars in the driveway of the house, and it looks like no one lives here.
I park by the door, turn off the engine, and take off my helmet. She climbs off the back and is beaming at me, her smile brighter than the rising sun.
“Why are we here?” I ask without getting off the bike.
“This is our new home,” she says, smiling even wider. “Or it could be, if you like it. Personally, I love it.”
I look at the house, then her, then the ocean view, which is glorious, back at the house and then back at Sienna. I don’t quite know my thoughts, but I do know they’re good. That I like the idea.
“There’s a huge garage where you could tinker with your bike, the first neighbor is miles away, it’s close to the clubhouse, and the wraparound porch is amazing,” she says, growing more and more breathless.
I’m still just looking at her, and the house, and her, trying to catch my train of thought.
“What do you think?” she asks, her tone a little less excited. “Do you like it?”
I get off the bike, my racing mind finally slowing down, letting me finally catch that thought I couldn’t before.
“This would be our home?” I ask, hoarsely, because my voice is cracking. I don’t know why it’s doing that.
“Yes,” she says, her smile once again beaming. “This would be our home.”
I wrap my arms around her, pull her close and kiss her deeper than I’ve ever kissed her before. I taste the road, the ocean, the wind, all the freedom and all the love in this world in that kiss.
“So, you like the idea?” she asks, still sounding a little unsure of herself.
I grin, holding her loosely in my arms. “When can we move in?”
She smiles too. “The agent is coming soon. Then we can sign the papers and just stay here.”
I’m sure it doesn’t quite work that way, but what do I know about buying houses?
I turn to face the house, keeping my arm around her shoulders. Her’s is around my waist. “A home. Didn’t think I’d ever have one of those.”
My voice cracked a little again for some reason. She holds me tighter, leaning against me.
“This will be my first real home too in so many ways,” she says quietly. “I’m so glad you like it.”
“Like it? I love it,” I say, my voice finally matching the firmness that is my knowledge that this could very well be the best day of my life.
“But it’s not just this house,” I add. “You’re my home. Wherever we are. Whatever we’re doing. Even when we’re apart.”
Her eyes are actually glistening a little as she looks at me. She just holds me tighter for a few moments, both her arms locked around my waist, her head resting against my chest.
“As long as I can hear your heartbeat, I’m home,” she says, her voice kinda cracking too.
Then we just hold each other, in silence. Because, really, what else is there to say?
This woman. This house. Our home. Life is finally good. And I believe, no, I know, that it will only get better.
THE END