Darko does the honors, a bullet to the back of the head for each of them. Their lifeless bodies fall and slide down into the ravine. It’s almost sunset, and I know they’ll soon be a meal for the wolves and coyotes that even now we can hear yipping in the distance.
The smell of blood with bring them in within the hour.
The birds of prey will finish what they leave behind.
And the insects will take the rest.
“Good riddance,” Rock says. “Let’s go.”
We hike back to the van, and I know I’ll never breathe a word of this to Maggie. She’ll think they left town to avoid prison and us.
I suppose eventually the law will show up at our door, looking for her brothers.
But she won’t have an answer for them.
That’s a problem for another day. Today, we did what the club does best.
We took care of business.
The four of us climb into the van, and no one says a word until Utah pulls a flask out and passes it around.
“I hate when a vehicle overheats, don’t you?” Utah says with a grin.
Soon, we’re all looking at each other and laughing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Three months later
Keno—
Maggie is cuddled on my chest, and her weight on me feels good.
We’re laying on the couch in the little house I rented for us. We still have the apartment above the bar, but that’s no place to start a life together.
My baby needed a yard where she could plant flowers and a deck where we could have cookouts and invite the club and all her girls. The one out back has an amazing view down the hill of Durango. It looks especially pretty at sunset when all the lights sparkle in the distance.
We’re watching a movie marathon… or we were, until Maggie fell asleep on me about fifteen minutes ago.
I stroke her back and press a kiss to her forehead.
Life has a funny way of coming around full circle.
I never thought I’d have another shot with her. I thought I’d lost my chance the day I left New Orleans. Leaving her was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, and I came to regret not taking her with me.
Though what kind of life I could have given her at the time, I don’t know.
Maybe neither of us was ready the first time around.
She was young, and I needed to figure out what mattered most. I feel like it’s taken me years to learn that lesson, but I know now what that is, and she’s cuddled against me, snoring softly.
I grin, happier than I can ever remember being.
There’s a rap on the door, and she shifts.
“Wake up, baby. Someone’s at the door,” I whisper.
She yawns and stretches, sitting up, and I pull my legs from under her to go to get the door.
