Page 65 of Brazen Being It

This isn’t just a new chapter.

It’s a whole new life.

And I’m finally living it.

EPILOGUE

DREW

Three months later

Haywood’s Landingsmells like salt, pine, and cedar. From the tides rolling in to the trees lining the road, the coastal town is an experience all it’s own.

This town has a way of hanging onto you, even if you leave for years, even if you think you’ve outgrown it. Now, as we roll in, the annual Hellions barbecue’s already in full swing—laughter echoing from the field behind the clubhouse, music thumping through the battered speakers someone duct-taped to a post, and the unmistakable smell of pork and burgers sizzling over an open flame.

Cambria is pressed to my back, her arms locked around my waist, chin hooked over my shoulder as I idle the bike down the lane. Her hair catches the wind, and she’s humming along to some classic rock song I can’t name, just a girl who’s learned to love the wild, loud, simple things that never meant home to her before.

But now? Now it’s different. Now, this is her home, anywhere I am.

I ease the bike into the dirt lot, kicking the stand, and the moment we’re stopped, she swings her leg over, boots hitting the gravel with a satisfying crunch. She’s in cutoff shorts, a black Hellions tank tied tight over her stomach, and a look in her eye that says she’s ready to take on the world. I grab her helmet as she releases her braid, and then move to get off myself. Standing beside her, my arm casually slung around her, I let my hand linger at her waist a moment longer than I need to. I just want to feel her. Just want to remind myself that this is real.

We walk toward the firepit, where Yesnia is already dancing barefoot in the grass, holding a bottle of something amber and grinning like she’s got no worries in the world. The music is loud, a patchwork of voices singing along, the click and pop of wood in the flames, kids darting between legs, someone’s dog barking. This isn’t just a barbecue. It’s a celebration.

It’s family.

It’s everything I thought I’d lost for good, and more.

But as I let Cambria drift ahead, waving to the women, I scan the crowd for one face—Toon. We’ve been texting, calling, swapping photos of bikes and busted knuckles, but I haven’t laid eyes on him since he left for Haywood’s Landing. I spot him finally, perched on a picnic table with his feet on the bench, looking like he’s aged ten years in half as many months. His shoulders seem broader, but his face is thinner, and there’s a line to his jaw that wasn’t there before.

He sees me and his mouth splits into that crooked grin. I walk up, slow, taking him in. It’s easy to forget, until moments like this, how much you can miss a brother.

“Well, look who finally remembered he had a best friend,” Toon says, pushing to his feet.

I shake my head, pulling him into a hug that’s rough, fast, but real. “You look like shit,” I say.

He laughs, slapping my back with a thump. “You look soft.”

We break, and for a moment, it’s just us, two men who’ve bled and laughed and grown up together.

“You okay?” I ask, quiet.

He nods. “I’m okay. Ain’t perfect, but I’m gettin’ there.”

There’s more behind that, I know, but he isn’t ready to spill it yet. He glances over at Cambria, where she’s talking to Laura and Yesnia, looking right at home. Dia approaches the girls and I watch the change in Toon.

I drop my voice low. “Does Dia know?”

He shakes his head, “I’ll never tell her why I came back. And I’m definitely not about to tell her how life is gonna take me away from her.” He looks away, jaw tight. “Tripp called me back for her. Can you believe that shit? Thought she needed me to help her. Got here and she doesn’t need me, never did. Which is good, ‘cause I don’t know how much life I got left to live.”

That bitterness stings, and I don’t like his headspace. I know Toon’s taken hits I can’t see, battles he won’t talk about, but I want to shake him, remind him there’s more than scars and regret.

He gives me a shoulder slap, forcing a grin. “Cambria has embraced this world.”

I smile. “Yeah, she has.”

He looks away, and I can tell he’s giving himself a second to gather up the pieces before he breaks. Instead of taking him back to the hard places, we catch up. It’s easy, natural, the kind of friendship you don’t have to force or fix. We talk about everything and nothing, picking up right where we left off.

As the sun slides behind the trees, the fire burns higher, and the whole world feels suspended between one moment and the next. Rex is leaning against a truck with Tripp, the two of them close as ever—cousins raised like brothers, partners in everything that ever mattered to the club. Axel’s got Yesnia in his lap, her drink sloshing as she laughs at something Laura says. The kids are playing tag in the field, and I watch Shooter actually smiling, his arm slung over Mom’s shoulders, both of them looking years younger in the golden light.

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