Page 95 of Diesel
And Crank does.
Nic sits at the head of the table. There’s no blood on him now, which is a miracle. Less than an hour ago, he was wearing it like war paint.
The gavel sits in front of him like a fucking trophy and his new President patch is stitched onto his chest. It’s too pristine for how worn the rest of his kutte is.
Mace is on his right, the VP patch laid out in front of him. Riot is on his left, staring down at the Sergeant at Arms patch like he’s deciding if he wants to pick it up.
I sit across from Dash, Riley beside him, and the empty seat on my left King’s—for when he pulls through.
Nic leans on the table, interlacing his fingers together.
“Wasn’t sure we’d ever get here,” he says.
“You deserve to be sitting in that seat,” Mace tells him, and he does. Nic’s been leading us for months. He just didn’t have the patch.
“The London and Manchester chapters are pulling out in the morning. After that, we start recruiting. Building back up our numbers. Putting this shit back together.”
His voice cracks on the last word. We buried so many loyal men in this war. Brothers we’ve known for years, men that Nic grew up with.
Men who never got to see this moment.
“Ain’t gonna be easy to trust outsiders again.” Riot leans back in his chair. His shoulders looser now. Maybe it’s knowing Crank and Blade’s carcasses are rotting in a hole so deep no one will ever find them.
“No,” Nic agrees. “But we will. Because that’s how we fix this.”
I tap my finger on my thigh once. Twice. Three times. Then I flatten my hand and take a breath. “The only thing I care about,” I say, “is whether you’re going to make good on your promise.”
He stills, remembering that conversation. I don’t take my eyes off him. I can feel Riot and Mace shifting in their seats.
But I need to know if I can raise a family in this club.
“I meant every word,” he says quietly.
“Meaning it and doing it are different things,” I shoot back. “I need to know this club will be a place I don’t have to hide my wife just to keep her alive. That I don’t have to watch my back against my own brothers. I need to know that this club will be something worth bringing my family into.”
I lean forward, giving him back the vows he gave me in that tiny little café when this shit all started. “Because if I’m asked to choose again between the club and my wife? There won’t be a choice.”
The room goes quiet. No one speaks, not even Riot.
But Nic doesn’t flinch. He meets my gaze like he knows he’s going to deliver this promise.
“I swear I’m going to give you something worth protecting.”
I sink back into my chair, my hand unmoving on my thigh. My tongue still. No taps. No nothing.
“Then I’ll bleed for this club. And I’ll bleed for you.”
EPILOGUE
MAKENNA
FIVE YEARS LATER…
The noisein the clubhouse is reaching decibels I didn’t know existed. There’s a hum of voices mixing with shrieks so loud it makes my ears ring. I can barely hear the low rumble of whatever playlist Dayna put on earlier.
I watch the kids running between the legs of the adults, exhausted by their energy already. Theo’s dressed as a wizard—I think. He’s using a tablecloth as a cape, and chasing around Zeke, who is the image of his father.
Dayna tries to snatch up her son as he rushes past, his little legs working overtime, but the kid is fast. Zeke ducks around her and cackles like a lunatic when she yells after him, “Slow down, kid! You’re four, not racing in the Grand Prix.”
