EPILOGUE: ZARA
After getting dressed, I sit on the bed and reluctantly pull out my phone. Staring at it, I can’t bring myself to make the call to my father. I laugh at myself because Dad was always the person I never hesitated to call when I needed someone. He has always been there for me. He was my hero, until a few hours ago, when I learned he stole money, which almost got me murdered in the most horrific way imaginable.
Taking a deep breath, I place the call.
“Zara, you’re okay?” he asks. His eyes are red and puffy, so I know he’s been crying. Seeing this softens my heart some. I know he would never purposely put me in danger.
“I’m fine. Bush and the others rescued me.”
“Is Bush there? I want to thank him…”
“He had some business to attend to and thought I should make this call on my own. Why did you do it, Dad? Why did you take the money? Didn’t you think they’d want it back?”
“I don’t know what to say. It was stupid of me, and I know it. If I had any idea that they’d have come after you…” He pauses. “I guess I should have realized that was a possibility. I accessed their accounts to recover the money they took from us. When I saw how much they had, I thought it was all stolen from ourfriends and neighbors. That’s why I took it. So I could return the money. When I finished doing all that, I realized that I still had millions. I couldn’t give it back, so I used it to give us a new life. If I thought it would come back to hurt you, I never would have taken the money.”
“I understand what you did and why you did it,” I assure him. “I’m not angry. Although I wasn’t happy when I heard what they had planned for me, I know you never would put me in danger.”
“You forgive me?”
“Of course, I forgive you, you’re my dad.”
“How was the fashion show?” he asks, changing the subject. I tell him everything, including how I’ve developed new designs to help women protect themselves.
“That will give you something to work on when you get home,” he says, just as the door opens and Bush walks in.
“That’s another reason why I called,” I say, never taking my eyes off Bush. “I’m staying here in Chicago. I want to be with Bush. Designers have shown interest in my work. I think I have a chance to make something of myself here, and now that I’ve found Bush, I don’t want to leave.”
Bush’s grin is wide as he moves to sit next to me on the bed. He leans over to kiss my temple before turning his attention to my dad.
“Hey, Fred,” Bush greets him. “I told you that we’d save our girl.”
“I can’t thank you enough for rescuing her, but now it seems like you’re keeping her,” Dad says, his tone resentful.
“I’m going to help her achieve her dream,” Bush says. “She has amazing talent and brilliant ideas. She’s bound to be a success whether she stays here or returns to you. However, she’ll have a better chance to build that future here. We’ll protect her. I’m hoping she’ll stay here with me.”
“What about the Bushrangers?” Fred asks. “Are they still a problem?”
I glance at Bush, who shakes his head. “You won’t have to worry about them. I can’t say more than that.”
“Good,” my father says with grim satisfaction. I feel the same way.
Music thumps through the floorboards as Bush and I make our way down the stairs into the clubhouse common room. The bass vibrates up through the soles of my boots, and the closer we get, the louder the laughter and shouting become. Someone whoops loudly, followed by the clinking of bottles.
Bush glances down at me with a crooked grin. “Looks like the party already started.”
The moment we step into the room, a cheer erupts.
The Demon Dawgs fill the space—bikers in leather kuttes, women dancing, bottles raised in celebration. Empty beer bottles already clutter the tables. My heart squeezes. They did this for us—Tony and me.
Before I can take more than two steps, Tony barrels toward me like an overexcited golden retriever.
“Zara!”
He grabs both my hands and practically bounces on his toes. His dark curls are even wilder than usual, and his eyes are shining.
“You will not believe the call I just got.”
I laugh. “Tony, breathe.”
