Three Years Later
June
"Be careful, swinging him up in the air like that!" I called from the front porch, watching Cade lift little Stan up in the air and hearing him squeal with delight. "He's only eighteen months- you can't go too high!"
Cade carried little Stan back to the porch, and set him down. He toddled around, mostly stable but not entirely, still giggling. Bailey followed him, always loyal, but mostly looking for abandoned snacks. Cade wrapped his arms around me, around my belly.
"I don't remember you being this anxious the last time you were pregnant," he said.
I leaned my head back against him. "We didn't have a toddler for you to throw around last time."
"No, we didn't," he said. "How's the momma-to-be feeling?"
"Tired," I said. "But happy."
Looking out across the property, to my old house, the one we'd turned into a bed and breakfast, I thought, Stan would have liked this, knowing that Cade had come back here, that we were raising our kids in the home where he'd raised Cade. Keeping the old ranch alive.
"What are you thinking?" Cade asked, his voice low.
"Nothing," I said. "Just that your dad would have liked all of this."
"He'd have loved little Stan," Cade said.
I nodded. "He'd be so proud of you, too, with the bike shop and everything." The bed and breakfast had done so well, with the influx of ski tourists the past two winters, that we'd been able to open a custom bike shop in town, and Cade had gotten to start doing what he loved. It didn't pay much, but it was good for him.
"Do you ever regret not going back to California?" I asked him. "Regret not being a part of the club anymore?" Guys were bringing their bikes to him from hours away, and Cade was getting a reputation for doing good custom paint jobs, but I sometimes wondered if hanging around those guys just made him wish he was back with the MC.
"No," he said. "I'm pretty barn sour now."
"What?" I asked, turning toward him, my protruding belly in the way. I leaned over to pick up Stan, and he patted his hand on Cade's face, intrigued by his stubble. "What do you mean?"
"You and that little man right there are my home," he said. "I feel the way horses get, when they're barn sour and they don't want to leave the barn. I don't want to leave you guys. I know where I belong."
Axe
Everything was quiet, with my wife and child both napping.
My wife and child.
That's something I never thought I'd say.
I stood outside, watching the clouds roll by, turning my cell phone over and over in my hand, thinking about the phone call I'd just gotten from Crunch.
He wasn't Crunch anymore.
He'd moved to Vegas with MacKenzie, had this gig where he did some kind of hacking shit for casinos. I couldn't remember how he'd explained it, something about security or some shit. He had come out of retirement, was starting to associate with the club chapter out in Vegas. The shit that happened out in LA had gotten him a new road name.
Hammer.
I guess brutally killing three assholes, smashing one man to pieces with a sledgehammer, warranted a name change.
After April's funeral, he'd gone back to Puerto Rico, left MacKenzie with her grandmother for a bit. Which was probably for the best, because he'd pretty much gone off the deep end, a total fucking tailspin.
I could understand the feeling.
Last year he'd pulled himself up, gotten his shit together. Now he had this good job and MacKenzie back living with him.
Then I get this voicemail today.
He'd gotten involved with a girl. Someone important to him, he said.
And now she was missing.
Back inside the house, I poked my head through the bedroom doorway, careful not to wake June. She was sleeping peacefully, and I wanted to keep her blissfully unaware for as long as possible. I slipped into bed beside her, cradled her stomach, and breathed her in. She murmured something in her sleep, snuggled in close to me. I knew that I'd have to call Hammer, face whatever grotesque reality he was going through.
But right now, I wanted to soak in a few more minutes of peace.
For now, everything was right in my world.
THE END