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I was finally home. Right where I belonged.

Epilogue

Kingpin - Four Months Later

“Honey, we should have been at the clubhouse ten minutes ago.” I rapped my knuckles lightly on the bathroom door. “Is everything okay?”

Hattie was never late. Never. She prided herself on that.

“I’m coming,” she replied, hurrying out as she fussed with her hair. “So bossy and impatient. Do you have the present for Blackbeard?”

I gestured toward the driveway.

“Already packed on the bike. Let’s go.”

We were having a big bash for Blackbeard’s forty-fifth birthday at the clubhouse. I couldn’t wait to nag the bastard about getting old and going gray.

Hattie grabbed her helmet by the door. Although I couldn’t help noticing that she seemed…frazzled. She wouldn’t meet my gaze either. I caught her arm as she passed me. Cradling her chin, I tilted her head up to meet my eyes.

“Didn't you say we were running late?" she said.

I frowned.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “I lost track of time, that’s all.”

I searched her face. That didn’t feel right. In fact, it felt like a lie.

“You never lose track of time. Not once in your life.”

Hattie brushed my arm off.

“Well, when you’re creeping toward fifty like I am, your brain starts to slip a little.”

I knew a distraction when I saw one, and Hattie was trying to throw me off her scent. But I released her arm and let her go. For now. I’d pry an honest answer out of her later.

In mid-October, the leaves were blazing with red, orange, and gold. My breath fogged in the crisp, cool air. As long as there wasn’t snow on the ground, my bike would remain on the road.

Hattie huddled behind me for warmth as we headed to the clubhouse. She loved the bike now, and we took joy rides every Sunday afternoon, following the road wherever it would take us.

When we arrived at the clubhouse, the parking lot was full and the party was in full swing. Blackbeard had a large, sprawling family—cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings, and in-laws—and it seemed like everyone who was even distantly related to him had managed to cram themselves inside.

I veered into a scrubby patch of grass behind the clubhouse and parked. After helping Hattie off the bike, I handed Blackbeard’s present to her for safe keeping. I hooked my finger into her belt loop with a tug, pulling her against me.

“You’re not thinking about making a run for it again, are you?” I asked lightly.

I knew she wouldn’t. But something was off about her this morning, and I wouldn’t rest easy until she told me what was going on.

Hattie rolled her eyes and rose on tiptoe with a quick peck to my lips.

“I’m not running, I swear. I’m fine, Neil.”

She hooked her arm through mine, tugging me toward the clubhouse. When we stepped inside, a blast of music and laughter greeted us. Blackbeard wore a paper crown, lopsided on his head, with dozens of ropey beaded necklaces draped around his neck. Cousins, nieces, and nephews clamored around him as he passed out candy. His abuela scolded him in Spanish from the bar, carrying a plate piled high with food.

“Diego, sit down and eat,” she called. “You’re too skinny. I spent all morning in the kitchen and you haven’t even touched a bite yet.”

Blackbeard waded through the kids as they fished around in his pockets for more candy. His abuela held up a bite of food on a fork with an insistent look.