“I fuckin’ hate the future, always plannin’ for it, yet never turns out the way we think or hope.”
The brothers spill out into the bar, and the music is turned up. I slip out unnoticed and head over to the house. Holly is sat out in the back yard and smiles when I drop onto the bench beside her.
I drape my arm around her shoulders. “I take it the boys are celebrating? I heard the music get cranked up.”
“Yeah, the guys voted them in. They've got their patches.”
“Wolf has been hoping this night would be the night for the last six weeks. I think he was starting to lose faith.”
“Nah, he’s just a little inpatient.”
She looks up at me and runs her finger over my beard. “There’s more and more grey every day,” she murmurs.
“Love you too, babe.” I snort.
Her laughter soothes me. “I like it.”
“You like we’re gettin’ old?”
“I like that we’re old enough to go grey, old enough that we get to look back on our lives and see that there’s still more to come. We've got we wanted, Leo. A life with our family and the club.”
She's right. I thought my life would be shared with India, and for over twenty years my life has been Holly. I've been stabbed, and shot, beat, and kidnapped. But I'm still here and I’m stronger today than I've ever been. With my brothers and my boys having my back, standing at my side, and my old lady always in front, I am untouchable.
I'm a Lost Soul and the Lost Souls Motorcycle Club will last longer than any of our lifetimes. I'll make sure of it.
Epilogue 3
Roman
“Dad is gonna kick her ass this time,” Wolf yells over the roar of our engines.
We ride beside each other, the road dead at this time of night.
“He won’t do shit!” I yell back.
Rayna is his princess and no matter how many times she causes everyone a headache, he can always find a way to justify her fuck ups.
We turn off onto the old dirt road and in sync, we thrash our throttles and pick up speed. Clouds of dust billow behind us and the dickheads lingering out front of the house drunkenly cheer.
We skid to a stop and cut our engines. Taking out my smokes, I light one and pass it over to Wolf. I light one for myself and put the pack back in my pocket.
“You ready?” he asks.
Exhaling the smoke, I slide the bat out of the saddle bag and rest it against my shoulder.
“I’m ready.”
Willow's Peak belongs to us, but there is always one dickhead that likes to act tough, thinking they’ll be the ones to take one of us down. On occasion, some of the fucktards try to come at us, wanting the honor of getting to us but they never succeed. My father tells us how different the town is today compared to when he was our age and when I think about it, try to imagine those days where poverty and crime weren’t at an all time high, I still prefer the here and now. To me, it’s easier knowing everyone’s an enemy.
Stepping inside the house, the bass pounds through me. I don’t need to be able to hear Wolf, I know how he works, that he has my back without question. Walking into the living room, I spy the music system and drop my cigarette on the carpet. Grinding it out underneath my boot, I take a deep breath and swing the bat into the speakers that line the wall. The music becomes distorted, and I turn my attention to the main system.
Within seconds the music is gone, and the people sat around groan, the ones with sense scattering from the room.
“You all know who I am, and you all know who my sister is,” I yell walking through to the hall. “Tell me where she is and then I’ll leave, and you can get back to your night!”
Wolf whoops and hollers as he catches the bat I toss him. He takes aim at the framed pictures on the wall and hits six for six. I step into the kitchen and there, sat on the counter, is Holt Cole. A fucking asshole of epic proportions.
“Where’s my sister?”
