Sunday Morning (Damaged #7.5)
By: Bijou Hunter
Kirk and I got a surprise when I gave birth to another daughter long after we figured we were done. Sawyer was another spunky, curly-haired child who looked like me and kicked ass like her dad. Our family complete, we settled into a luxurious life in our dream house in the woods.
I never heard from Robin or anyone else from Chesterfield. While I didn’t miss them, I sometimes wanted to gloat about my good fortune. All of those years, Mom mocked my love of books. Now I regularly took classes at the nearby New Hampton College. The libraries in Ellsberg were filled with more books than I could ever read. I was living in a paradise, and everyone always said I’d never amount to shit.
Hell, I’d thought that too, but then I met Kirk Johansson, and my life was never the same.
Epilogue - Kirk
As a kid, I’d always wanted to see Mount Rushmore. I couldn’t believe men carved those faces into an actual mountain. I didn’t think about that urge until I had kids and decided to buy an RV. Our first summer road trip was to South Dakota.
Every year, I took Jodi and the kids on another trip. Our children grew up wanting for nothing. Those trips were eye-opening for Jodi and me. We grew up in a small, dirty world where no one amounted to more than their parents. Everyone and everything was shit, and everyone and everything was okay with being shit. Staring up at Mount Rushmore or seeing the Grand Canyon reminded me I was a man of the bigger world now. Jodi and I weren’t trapped either by poverty or own low expectations.
The Reapers were tight like the Chesterfield Vandals never would be. We worked hard, and our business wasn’t pretty, but it provided for our families. I trusted these men, creating brothers out of strangers. Being in charge was actually easier than being a disgruntled sheep. Win or lose, I liked calling the shots. One day, Cooper would run the club and our other businesses. He was as smart as his mom and as tough as his old man.
Even with my club brothers, Jodi remained my best friend. She knew me better than anyone and always had my back. I’d never understand how she put up with my shit all of those years. She was a kid when we met. Yet she knew what she wanted, and she never wavered in her dreams. Eventually, I submitted to her will and everything great in my life fell into place afterward.
How in the hell did I get this damn lucky? I never did anything to earn this woman and these beautiful children. I had a solid club in a safe town. I owned a big beautiful piece of land and was already making plans to build our dream house.
I was showered with all of these blessings because of a chance meeting with a spitfire on a Sunday morning.