Page 74 of Patriot
“I love you, Michael.”
I could feel him stir under me. He didn’t know that I’d felt that way about him.
There was no doubting it now.
“And I love you, Kaitlyn.”
Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
The scene was quite familiar.
I sat at an empty bar on a Friday early afternoon, sipping on a Yuengling. To my right was Axle, the man we had once considered a rat and whom I now owed my life to. And, just like we had been on the day that he first saved my mind, we were now outside San Diego, having just visited Rosecrans National Cemetery.
“Cheers,” I said, holding out my Yuengling. “To always living up to our fallen brothers’ legacies and standards.”
“Amen,” Axle said.
We each took a sip quietly, but there was something much more peaceful and much more gratifying about this silence than the awkward, tense silence that had filled the air our last visit. Granted, remembering the fallen was never easy, but thanks to his leadership and thanks to a second chance at saving those I cared about, I had a much better perspective on things. I could much better understand where things were going.
“Still gotta figure out who the rat is,” Axle said.
“We will, I’m sure of it,” I said. “These things have a tendency to reveal themselves.”
Axle didn’t respond, but I knew he agreed with me.
“Oh, and just in case it was clear, I’m not going to ask to become co-VP. Too much effort and responsibility.”
Axle gave a slight chuckle, perhaps even a smile, though maybe I imagined that. His phone buzzed. Axle stared at the screen for far longer than I would have ever pegged him being engaged by a text.
“You good?” I said, briefly worrying if it was something to do with the club.
It took another half-dozen seconds for Axle to shake his head and put his phone away.
“You’re not the only one with a past that has caught up to him,” he said. “Mine is just alive. And she’s back in California.”
