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EPILOGUE

JAMESON

P resent Day…

Seven years had gone by since my life had been stripped away, and my first love murdered at the hands of that vile piece of shit, Rancid.

The echoes of that night haven’t quieted, but I did. Sadie helped me with that. I don't think she realizes what she did for me, how her love saved. And I loved her, in my own dark way, but I'd do anything for that woman and my baby.

The years had made me wiser and hardened us all a bit. I'd rebuilt the clubhouse, restructured all the members, and now we are stronger than ever.

My men sat around the table toward the back of the Clubhouse. Powertrain had found a way to make us quick money using crypto currency, and we made bank in the last year. We put it all into the reconstruction of the house, and now everything we owned was high-tech and digital. Hoax couldn't have been happier.

Everyone who I sat at my table knew what loyalty and brotherhood meant. No patch who hadn’t proven that earned a seat here today.

Scorn sat to my right. He’d been named Sergeant-at-Arms a few years back after Knuckles left. Knuckles had a run down with the Scorpions and some other dealings he had with his woman, who had been the sister to the President back then. After Brewer died, Tadeo Reyes was voted in as President. That had been a shit show as Cesar Dominguez betrayed him and killed him. Knuckles was caught up in the middle of all this. All I do know? Knuckles walked away. He took his woman and with a heavy heart, he disappeared, and I haven't seen my friend in years. But I vowed I would bring him back. And I don’t take those types of vows lightly. Not when it came to Knuckles.

Scorn had been a Nomad at the time. Never quite managed to settle until a skirt, a schoolteacher, made him see the light. He was a soldier through and through. Trusted. Ruthless. Calm otherwise. Just what the club needed. Spectre, our tracker, had left us his son Macabre. I’d reached out to him recently and he had finally returned to his seat at the table. Powertrain sat across from me, Goshawk had brought him in years ago and he was a good man to have. He’d shown his loyalty more than once and I trusted him beyond most. Bullet, our Secretary took mental notes in the corner. Any orders I made, he made sure they went through to the right people. Today I had some serious news.

“I’ve got some news.” All eyes were on me.

“Croak has taken the Presidency. Slit Dominguez’s throat and declared himelf National President of the Bloody Scorpions.” I announced.

Tick Tock sat across from me, fingers drumming against the wood like they did when he was trying to stay sane. And who could blame him? Croak survived the shot to the skull that night. Some say the bastard was reborn from hell itself. I say, he got lucky and slithered out. But luck eventually runs out.

Tick Tock slammed a fist on the table. “I should have killed the motherfucker when I had the chance.”

I nodded slowly. “Couldn’t agree more. You’re a better man than me, I would have put him down like a dog.”

“What’s our next move?”

“Stay on alert, watch your backs. If you think Rancid was bad? Croak. Croak was raised in hell and came out a demon.”

“He needs to die,” Tick Tock said.

“That day’s coming. For now, keep your eyes open. Croak’s a wild card and he’s not one to forget things so easily. He’s got a bullet in his skull that has him holding a grundge liike it’s currency.”

“I’ll make it my personal mision to bring him down.”

“You see anything, you report it to me first, Tick Tock. Don’t be going rogue on me, I don’t play like that, you hear me?”

“Yes, SIr.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“How’s Atlanta doing?” Powertrain asked.

“I dealt with Maverick, there won’t be any more issues on his end. He just needed a little talking to, but they’ll be more careful now. I sent him out as we got another ambush on shipments. I trust he’ll deliver. The eyes are now on the Rebel Raiders and on The Scorpions.”

The Royal Bastards had gained back our name, our rep, our standing. There’s been bloodshed, bullets, and betrayals, but we’d come out the other side with steel in our bones.

Minneapolis. Florida. New chapters are rising everywhere. Oakland's got Level. Oahu's got Paniolo. And Ontario? Ontario had Lynx, our second female Prez. A hellcat. Tougher than most of the men I’ve served beside. She proposed starting a rally, a President 's Only network. Share trade secrets, stay connected. Smart. Strategic. She has a vision and reminds me of my father in that way.

The Royal Harlots are also growing and bringing in some value. The Duchess, their National President, has expanded the club under the Royal Bastards umbrella. They have our protection, and we get forty percent of their gains. It’s a win win for both of us. They also provided a strength I didn’t know we needed. They had gained all our respect, and I was willing to back them up for as long as I could.

I turned to Hoax. “What’s going on up north?”

“The Scorpions are stirring shit up in Maine. Warden’s handling it, but he asked for backup.”

“You’re going,” I said flatly. Hoax gave a short nod. No questions asked.

Hellsing let out a long sigh beside him, arms folded, drawl thick as honey from the bayou.

“Ain’t nothin’ but swamp politics and gator shit up there,” he muttered.

The table chuckled. Hellsing, our current Chaplain, was young, bold, sharp as hell with scripture and sarcasm alike. As Virgil’s protege, he took over his seat when Virgil retired. He was a genuine smartass, but he’d grown up with the club and he’d seen some bad shit in his lifetime. I should know, the Devil had come after me once. In my book, after dealing with that evil, he gets a free pass and a well-deserved seat at the table just for keeping us sane and out of evil’s way. Unfortunately he was our conscience, God help us.

“How's the Mydnight Witch doing?” I asked.

He froze. “Ohhh, fuck no.”

“Bloody Scorpions were sniffin' around Grace’s place. I need you to keep watch.”

“Not a chance in hell. Fuck, not even in hell's basement.”

Powertrain barked out a laugh. “Tag, you're it, brother.”

“She’s gonna kill me. Swear to Christ, that woman sharpens knives with my name on the steel.”

“Still breathin', aren't you? Good. Then do your fuckin' job and keep her alive.”

The room cracked with more laughter. Because we all knew the truth. Grace was Virgil’s daughter. She owned a little shop down in the French Quarter. We all knew they had a thing for each other even if they didn’t know it yet. They may despise each other now but I sure as hell knew Hellsing wouldn’t let anything happen to that girl.

“Everyone here’s got an assignment but you.”

“Seriously, you’re going to do this to me?”

“I need you to do what I ask you, Hellsing.” I said sternly.

He was smart enough to lower his head and take the job. “Yes, Sir.”

“Anybody have anything else for me?” After a few seconds of silence, I dismissed them.

Sitting back in my chair I took a deep breath.

This club?

This family?

It was mine. My father had left me with something special and I wasn’t going to let him down.

Looking down at my wrist, I fiddled with the beaded bracelet. It had been my mother’s, and it was blessed by Madame Laveaux.

I hadn’t told anyone this, but she had told me the truth back when I returned. She had read it in the cards. My father had been brutally murdered, and my mother had died from heartbreak. The thought of my mother, had me swallowing back tears and I regret not having taken her with me that night.

My father’s death I had avenged, over and over throughout the years. But that bitterness and that anger changes a man.

My world was full of regrets and rage. They say Vengeance is a dish best served cold, although if I had my hands on Rancid, I’d kill him all over again for what he did to my family.

But the past, although it haunts me every day, it has made me who I am today and I’m grateful for that. Because in my world, you needed to know how to fight in order to survive it.