Page 125 of Riot’s Revenge

His hands came to my hips carefully, almost cautiously, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch me. I cupped his battered face, careful of the bruising. “I am still really fucking angry with you.”

“Figured.”

“And you’re sleeping on the sofa if you ever pull this shit again.”

“Fair.”

“And I’m not finished shouting at you.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

A tear escaped before I could stop it, and Riot’s expression crumpled. Only for a second, but I saw it. His hand came up and caught the tear with his thumb. “I thought I’d lost you too,” he said quietly.

That did it. I bent down and wrapped my arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.

Riot buried his face against my chest and held me so tightly I could feel the tremor running through him.

For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t wondering where my husband was. He was right there, in my arms and exactly where he should be.

EPILOGUE

RIOT

A few months later

I stared at the paperwork in front of me and wondered when the fuck being an outlaw biker had started involving this many spreadsheets.

“You’re not even reading that.”

I looked across the church table at Reaper. “I read it.”

“Then what’s it say?”

“That going legit is fucking boring.”

Tiny laughed from farther down the table while Reaper shook his head. “Means you didn’t read it.”

“Means I read enough.”

Reaper muttered something under his breath and pulled the folder toward himself.

There’d been a time when church meant routes, guns, deals and figuring out which bastard needed putting in the ground before he put one of us there first. Now we’d spent the last hour talking about payroll, suppliers and whether one of the businesses needed a new fucking insurance policy.

Shadow would’ve laughed his ass off. The thought came easily, it didn’t hurt any less, but it came easier.

My eyes went to Reaper for a second. Pres. I’d known the kid all his life. Watched him mouth off to Shadow, get into fights, fuck around and somehow survive long enough to find his old lady, Lucy, and become the man sitting at the head of this table.

There were still moments when I looked up and expected to see Shadow there instead and probably always would be.

Going legit hadn’t erased what came before it, nothing could. We’d lost too fucking much for that. Shadow. Brandi. Boxer. Ghost and more. Names that belonged in that room but didn’t have voices anymore.

For years I’d thought the worst thing that could happen to this club was losing the patch, losing territory or ending up behind bars. Turned out it was surviving long enough to look around a table and realize how many chairs had different men sitting in them now.

Reaper pushed himself to his feet. “Anything else?”

Nobody spoke.

“Good. Get the fuck out.”