Page 17

EPILOGUE

DREW

Three months later

Haywood’s Landing smells like salt, pine, and cedar. From the tides rolling in to the trees lining the road, the coastal town is an experience all it’s own.

This town has a way of hanging onto you, even if you leave for years, even if you think you’ve outgrown it. Now, as we roll in, the annual Hellions barbecue’s already in full swing—laughter echoing from the field behind the clubhouse, music thumping through the battered speakers someone duct-taped to a post, and the unmistakable smell of pork and burgers sizzling over an open flame.

Cambria is pressed to my back, her arms locked around my waist, chin hooked over my shoulder as I idle the bike down the lane. Her hair catches the wind, and she’s humming along to some classic rock song I can’t name, just a girl who’s learned to love the wild, loud, simple things that never meant home to her before.

But now? Now it’s different. Now, this is her home, anywhere I am.

I ease the bike into the dirt lot, kicking the stand, and the moment we’re stopped, she swings her leg over, boots hitting the gravel with a satisfying crunch. She’s in cutoff shorts, a black Hellions tank tied tight over her stomach, and a look in her eye that says she’s ready to take on the world. I grab her helmet as she releases her braid, and then move to get off myself. Standing beside her, my arm casually slung around her, I let my hand linger at her waist a moment longer than I need to. I just want to feel her. Just want to remind myself that this is real.

We walk toward the firepit, where Yesnia is already dancing barefoot in the grass, holding a bottle of something amber and grinning like she’s got no worries in the world. The music is loud, a patchwork of voices singing along, the click and pop of wood in the flames, kids darting between legs, someone’s dog barking. This isn’t just a barbecue. It’s a celebration.

It’s family.

It’s everything I thought I’d lost for good, and more.

But as I let Cambria drift ahead, waving to the women, I scan the crowd for one face—Toon. We’ve been texting, calling, swapping photos of bikes and busted knuckles, but I haven’t laid eyes on him since he left for Haywood’s Landing. I spot him finally, perched on a picnic table with his feet on the bench, looking like he’s aged ten years in half as many months. His shoulders seem broader, but his face is thinner, and there’s a line to his jaw that wasn’t there before.

He sees me and his mouth splits into that crooked grin. I walk up, slow, taking him in. It’s easy to forget, until moments like this, how much you can miss a brother.

“Well, look who finally remembered he had a best friend,” Toon says, pushing to his feet.

I shake my head, pulling him into a hug that’s rough, fast, but real. “You look like shit,” I say.

He laughs, slapping my back with a thump. “You look soft.”

We break, and for a moment, it’s just us, two men who’ve bled and laughed and grown up together.

“You okay?” I ask, quiet.

He nods. “I’m okay. Ain’t perfect, but I’m gettin’ there.”

There’s more behind that, I know, but he isn’t ready to spill it yet. He glances over at Cambria, where she’s talking to Laura and Yesnia, looking right at home. Dia approaches the girls and I watch the change in Toon.

I drop my voice low. “Does Dia know?”

He shakes his head, “I’ll never tell her why I came back. And I’m definitely not about to tell her how life is gonna take me away from her.” He looks away, jaw tight. “Tripp called me back for her. Can you believe that shit? Thought she needed me to help her. Got here and she doesn’t need me, never did. Which is good, ‘cause I don’t know how much life I got left to live.”

That bitterness stings, and I don’t like his headspace. I know Toon’s taken hits I can’t see, battles he won’t talk about, but I want to shake him, remind him there’s more than scars and regret.

He gives me a shoulder slap, forcing a grin. “Cambria has embraced this world.”

I smile. “Yeah, she has.”

He looks away, and I can tell he’s giving himself a second to gather up the pieces before he breaks. Instead of taking him back to the hard places, we catch up. It’s easy, natural, the kind of friendship you don’t have to force or fix. We talk about everything and nothing, picking up right where we left off.

As the sun slides behind the trees, the fire burns higher, and the whole world feels suspended between one moment and the next. Rex is leaning against a truck with Tripp, the two of them close as ever—cousins raised like brothers, partners in everything that ever mattered to the club. Axel’s got Yesnia in his lap, her drink sloshing as she laughs at something Laura says. The kids are playing tag in the field, and I watch Shooter actually smiling, his arm slung over Mom’s shoulders, both of them looking years younger in the golden light.

I catch myself thinking that maybe this is what we’ve been fighting for all along. Not power, not reputation. Just a night like this, where everyone’s safe, everyone’s fed, everyone’s got someone who loves them.

Cambria curls up next to me on the bench, her head on my shoulder, my arm draped over her waist. She fits there perfectly, like she was always meant to.

“You ever think about what your life would’ve been like if we never met in that parking lot?” she asks, voice a secret between us and the dusk.

“All the time,” I admit.

“What do you see?”

I turn my head, kiss her temple. “Nothing. I see nothin’ ‘cause none of it would’ve mattered.”

She pulls my hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. There’s a fragility in her smile, something I know she’s still learning to let go of. “I used to think I wasn’t allowed to want more. That wantin’ it was greedy.”

“Baby, you deserve the whole damn world.”

She laughs, and it’s shy, a sound that breaks me open every time. “Then ask me.”

My stomach knots, just like it did the first time I saw her, hesitant, but still hopeful. “You heard that?”

She nods. “Back at the trailer. Before Toon left. You said you wanted to make it real at the barbecue.”

“Planned to ask you at this barbecue. Didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

“Well, I’m askin’ now.”

For a second, the whole world goes still. My hand slips into my cut, fingers closing around the little velvet box I’ve carried for three months—waiting, never quite brave enough to pull the trigger. Her eyes go wide as I open it, moonlight catching on the twisted gold band and single black diamond.

I clear my throat, heart pounding. “You’ve already ridden out a lifetime of pain with me. I want to spend the rest of our days giving you the ride of your life. I want to feel you hold tight to me as we make all our dreams come true. You ready to make it real?” My voice shakes, but my eyes dance with love. “You ready to take my last name?”

She nods, tears shining. “Hell yes.”

I slide the ring onto her finger, and the entire yard erupts—cheers, whistles, catcalls. Toon shouts loudest, “Finally, he put a ring on it. She’s been his wife a damn year with no ring!” Which is funny because none of them know it was all a ruse to make sure she was accepted in my world no matter the outcome between us in the beginning.

My mom’s voice drifts across the fire, gentle but eager, “Does this mean we can have a wedding celebration?”

“If that’s what Cambria wants,” I say, my heart thudding in my chest, not giving away the real truth: that our “wedding” was never real, and they didn’t miss a damn thing except a lie.

Cambria nods, all smiles and watery eyes.

“We’re havin’ a wedding!” I tell my mom, and the cheer that follows rattles the night.

Cambria laughs through her tears and climbs into my lap, kissing me so hard my heart forgets how to beat right. I hold her close, the ring warm between us, her breath sweet with lemonade and hope.

Later, after the food’s mostly gone and the fire’s nothing but embers, Cambria’s with Yesnia and Laura by the pond, no doubt laughing and crying about centerpieces and cake flavors and all the details I’ll never understand. I sit on the porch with Toon, passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth. The night is thick, full of crickets and distant laughter and memories I never want to lose.

“You happy?” Toon asks quietly, his gaze fixed on the shadows moving in the grass.

I don’t even have to think. “Yeah. I am.”

He studies me, then nods, satisfied. “You earned it.”

“Not sure I did.”

He turns, serious now, the lines in his face softened by the glow from the kitchen window. “You stood by her. You fought for her. You brought your shit to the club, manned up when it counted. Don’t ever question if you earned it.”

I nod, throat tight, words stuck in my chest.

“You good here? For real?” I ask, shifting the subject back to him. I can’t stand the thought of Toon drifting, lost, not knowing where he belongs.

“Better than I was. Takin’ shit as it comes,” he says, rolling the whiskey between his palms.

“Catawba, we’d be glad to have you back.”

He smiles, slow and honest. “Maybe one day. Can’t say my place is in Catawba. Can’t say it’s here. Thought about going Nomad with Smoke and the others, but I don’t know. I don’t have a calling to go anywhere just yet. I’ll see how my shit plays out here a little longer.”

“Door’s always open at my place for you, brother.”

He bumps my fist with his, grateful and silent. I know what it is to need a place, to need a reason. I’m just glad I found mine.

After a while, Cambria finds me, slipping her hand into mine, her eyes bright with laughter and plans.

We walk down to the edge of the pond, the grass cool and soft under our feet. The moon’s high, painting the water silver, and the world feels hushed and private. She wraps her arms around my waist, tilting her face up to mine.

“Promise me somethin’?” she asks.

“Anything,” I say, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Don’t let the world turn us cold.”

I cup her face, thumbs sweeping over her cheeks. “The world’s always gonna try, Cam. But I’ve got you. You’ve got me. That’s heat enough to keep us from ever bein’ cold again.”

She nods, eyes shining with hope and faith and something that feels a hell of a lot like forever.

We kiss, slow and deep, every fear and every promise wrapped up in that moment. When we finally pull back, I rest my forehead against hers.

“This is it, you know,” I say. “The road. The life. Us.”

She smiles, tears and laughter mixing together. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

We stand there, the world silent around us, the sky full of stars. I hold her close and know—really know—that the fight is worth it. That home isn’t a place. It’s a person. It’s family. It’s the way her arms feel around me, the way her laughter carries through the dark, the way every scar I’ve got feels healed when she’s near.

Tomorrow, there’ll be more miles to ride, more stories to write, more battles to win. But tonight? Tonight I have everything I ever wanted.

And for once, I believe I get to keep it.

The End…

Until the next ride.