AUTHOR’S NOTE: Many readers have asked me to write about what happens to various Reapers and their ladies after their stories have been told. This bonus epilogue gives a sneak peek of the club’s future without revealing any spoilers for the books ahead. That being said, it also ends with a bit of a tease for a storyline that won’t be addressed or resolved in the next book. I let the readers on my fan page vote on whether I should share it with you, and they were overwhelmingly in favor of including it. Read at your own risk.
Bonus Epilogue
NINE YEARS LATER
JESSICA
“Jessica Amber Armstrong.”
I took a deep breath and stood up, my advisor at my side, her brightly colored academic robes fluttering like flags in the light breeze. We climbed up onto the outdoor stage, and I looked out to see London, Reese, Mellie, and all the others watching me, pride written all over their faces. When they’d come in—full Reapers colors on display—everyone had gotten out of their way quick. Worked out well, too. Now they had the front two rows all to themselves.
Reese caught my eye and winked. I smiled back, then turned toward my graduate advisor, lowering myself so she could put the academic hood over my head. Right up to that point I was doing great—just one more step in the march toward my master’s in special education … But then she smoothed the silk across my shoulders and whispered, “We’re so proud of you, Jessica. I’ve never had a student work harder than you have.”
That’s when I lost it.
I turned back toward the audience, tears running down my face. Most of them would never know what I’d had to overcome to get this far—what I still had to overcome every day of my life. The checks and balances I’d put into place to keep myself from making impulsive decisions. The surgeries to maintain my shunt. The fact that every time I looked down at my hand and missing finger, I was reminded that evil is a real thing that exists in our world, all around us.
I’d use all of it to help my students, I vowed. Every bit of suffering, every stupid decision I’d ever made, every hour of physical pain I’d endured. Every time someone made fun of me for being “slow.” I knew better now. I wasn’t slow—I was different, and that difference was what made me one of the best f*cking special education teachers in the state.
They weren’t making fun of me anymore.
The dean shook my hand as London and Reese and all the others started whooping and hollering for me. That got them some looks, but I didn’t give a shit. They were my people, and they’d been there for me when I needed them.
Now it was my turn to make them all proud.
We’d blown off the formal reception at the University of Idaho in favor of a party out at Spring Valley Reservoir. Not all the club had been able to make it down, but enough were there that the Moscow chapter had come out to welcome us. One of the local brothers had a barrel smoker, which was already full of ribs. London was in her element, bossing all the old ladies around and making sure the food would be perfect. Not a single paper napkin was out of place.
Mellie took off right after the hooding ceremony, which sucked. She had to work later in the afternoon, but the fact that she’d driven down at all meant everything to me. Her path hadn’t been the easiest over the years, but we’d both made it through, friendship intact.
“Auntie Jess, will you braid my hair?” asked Kylie, Em’s youngest. She was two weeks shy of her fourth birthday, but in her mind she was already a full-on adult. “Mama said she needed to help Daddy with something in the tent. I’m not s’posed to bother her.”
I snickered. Yeah, I’ll bet he needed “help” with something, all right.
“Sure, c’mon over to the table.”
We sat down and I finger-combed her hair, looking out across the beach. Marie, Sophie, and Jina were watching over a gaggle of kids and working on their tans. With the exception of Horse, most of the brothers were up drinking beer and supervising the smoker. He’d let the little ones—led by his oldest boy, who I swear was cockier than he was—bury him in the sand. Probably just waiting to explode up and chase them all into the water.
I finished Kylie’s hair and she took off running to the beach, braid flapping behind her. Kit—Reese’s other daughter—sat down next to me with a thump, passing over a beer.
“You know, I never thought I’d get sucked back into this shit,” she muttered. I glanced at her, a question in my eyes. “The MC shit. Thought I’d made it out.”
“Does anyone ever really make it out?” I asked. “Doesn’t matter what life you choose—your family will always be part of you. Just be glad yours is a good one.”
Kit nodded.
“Yeah, for the most part. Congrats on the degree.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling warm and happy.
“Here you are,” London said. She dropped into the spot on my other side, nudging me over with her hip. I shifted, pushing at Kit until she moved her butt, too. London’s arm came around me and she gave me a tight hug. “So, you ready to settle down now, Ms. Hot Shit Graduate? Maybe give me some more grandbabies?”
“Not every woman lives to have children, Loni,” I said, my voice dry. “I seem to remember you focusing on building your business for a long time.”
“I was focused on raising your ass,” she replied, grinning at me. “You gave me hell. Only fair that someone should make you suffer, too.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I think I’ll wait a little longer. I have it on good authority that raising a kid on your own is a lot of work … Who mentioned that to me? Oh, yeah. That was you, Loni. Remember?”
“Speaking of you turning into a lifeless old maid with a vag full of cobwebs, I have someone I want you to meet,” Kit said, a wicked smile crossing her face. “He should be out here soon. I think you’ll like him a lot.”
“God, just one day …” I muttered, shaking my head. “Just one day without one of you trying to fix me up? Is that too much to ask?”
“This one is different,” Kit said, her voice indignant. “He’s—”
I heard the roar of a motorcycle and looked up to see who was pulling up to the campsite.
Holy shit. Was that … ?
“There he is! I can’t wait for you to meet him,” Kit grabbed my elbow, dragging me to my feet. I followed her, stumbling. No. F*cking. Way.
“Told you he’s different,” Kit said, grinning. Yeah, he was different all right. We came to a stop and he pulled off his helmet, giving me that slow, sexy smile I loved and hated so much at the same time. I just stood there, staring at him like a dumbass until Kit pushed me from behind. The move caught me off guard, and I literally stumbled into his arms.
Seriously?
“Hey, Jess,” he said, the words a slow, sexy drawl. “Never thought I’d see you again. Happy graduation.”
F*ckballs.
“So you know each other already?” Kit demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me, Jess?”
“I was trying to forget,” I muttered.
“Some things you just can’t forget,” he said, which sucked because he was right.
“I gotta get out of here,” I said, trying to pull away. He didn’t let me go, though. Nope. His hands tightened on my arms as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.
“Really? Running away again? Can’t leave your own party, Jess. That’s just rude.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent. Oh, God. I’d forgotten how good he smelled, how tall he was. What he felt like when he …
“Looks like someone has unfinished business,” Kit said, her voice full of predatory glee. “I want details. Now.”
Oh hell no.
My brain started to work again, and I jerked away from him in full retreat. He was laughing behind me, but I didn’t care because I was well and truly over his shit.
Our story was done.
Finished.
The. End.
Wasn’t it?
Acknowledgments
This is my fourth book in the Reapers Motorcycle Club series, and as time passes it becomes harder to write my acknowledgments. The list of people who have supported me grows longer and I’m afraid I’ll forget someone. You have no idea how much I appreciate all of you.
Thanks to everyone at Berkley who has made this possible, especially Cindy Hwang. I have an incredible team behind me and I appreciate all their efforts. It’s worth noting that I’ve been repeatedly blessed by the Cover Gods—the Berkley art team has been amazing, and I hear almost daily from readers praising their efforts.
I also want to thank my agent, Amy Tannenbaum, Betty, my MC friends, my beta readers, my writing posse, all the bloggers who have supported me and everyone on my Junkies page. Special thanks to Chas and Jessica, because it doesn’t matter whether or not a book is good if nobody ever finds out about it. Kylie, Hang, Lori, and Cara—you know exactly how much you’ve helped me, and don’t think I take it for granted. Thank you for all the time you’ve given me.
Finally, thanks to my family, whose endless patience and willingness to step up makes my writing possible. I love you very much.