Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
“Aww, you’re so worried.”
I raise my hands and let them drop in exasperation. How could I not be? But with our doc tending to those in worse condition first, I fetch Clyde some water and watch him for any sign that he should be prioritized right the fuck now.
Clyde entwines the fingers of his healthy hand with mine, then pulls it to his lips for a tender kiss that might be magically healing all my wounds. “Did we win?”
I roll my eyes and take hold of his fingers. “Of course. We always win. Let’s get you patched up, and then I’ll take you home.”
“I love you, Road. You’re the best motherfucker I know. Give me one more kiss.” He seems half-lucid, but his smile still makes my heart leap.
We did it.
We fucking did it.
I can’t help but chuckle, because as angry as I am at him for claiming to be fine, I know that won’t last long. Shaking my head, I lean down and let our lips touch. There are other people here, and they will see us, but it doesn’t matter anymore. We survived, we have a future, and I want to drink this victory from the sweetest cup I know.
Epilogue
Going back to prospecting felt like regressing to a spot in my life that I’d long left behind me, but it’s a bearable punishment in comparison to exile. Six months later, I still think so despite everyone teasing me about being an enforcer who didn’t manage to ‘enforce’ himself. The people of Vulture Hollow have calmed down after the club claimed I found out Isaac was a rat all along, but I have still caved his skull in front of everyone. That couldn’t go unpunished. Not to mention that all the other shit I’ve pulled would have landed me six feet under in any club that’s more about being a force than a sanctuary. I’m glad my brothers voted to give me a chance. And even happier about them extending the same helping hand to Clyde.
I suppose saving Brigid’s life did play in our favor, but that doesn’t mean going back to cleaning bikes, polishing boots, and being a designated servant for the nastiest of jobs is a dream come true.
I’ve spent the past two days out on a run, separated from Clyde, and I’ve missed him like hell. Especially during the long, cold night in a motel with a broken radiator. But as much as I hate prospecting at my age, it’s an opportunity to return to the life I know and love. Prophet did already promise me though, that I’ll never again be the one upholding club law.
Fine by me.
At least there wasn’t much mayhem after the fucking massacre in which several Butchers and Martin died, along with two civilians on our side who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I doubt our two clubs will ever be friendly, but under new management, the Hell’s Butchers MC is not so terrible to deal with. Some of us, including me and Clyde, got arrested after the shootout alongside a few of the Butchers, and being stuck in that situation together forged a bit of bonding. Nothing could be proven to anyone in particular, so with the help of a few of Prophet’s cop buddies, we were out within the week.
All is well in Vulture Hollow.
I’m back from my job, and I don’t even have to clear snow from the road leading to our settlement.
It’s bitterly cold, but the thought of warming my bones by the fireplace, with Clyde in my lap, pushes me forward. The settlement is quiet, likely due to the Christmas fair in a town nearby, so I drive up to the clubhouse undisturbed, and so very ready to get some much-needed rest.
Yeti waves at me from his favorite chair when I enter the clubhouse lounge. He’s the only one here, and as much as I love my brothers, it’s not them I want to talk to right now. My relationship with Clyde still feels so fresh, and I can’t wait to bury my face in his hair, so I can tell him everything that’s happened over the past two days.
“Cargo,” I say and toss the little package into Yeti’s lap.
Yeti raises his beer bottle to me. “You’re not staying for a drink?”
“We can have one later,” I say, already turning on my heel.
He snorts. “Right, gotta please your sugar daddy first.”
I know it’s a joke, but I still groan. Clyde came into possession of a whole shitload of money once he got his house insurance payment and sold the land on top of that. While he’s hardly flaunting it, the guys will find any reason to pull my leg. But I know a way to give them a taste of their own medicine.