He glanced down again at Chop’s body, his blood outlined him in a halo at the bottom of the pool. “Get up off your fucking knees,” he ordered. The men holding the guns stepped back and gave room to the men who now stood with their faces upturned, hanging on to every single one of Bear’s words.

“Brotherhood means everything. Family means everything. This time, don’t fucking forget that.” Bear pointed to King. “King is my brother, my family, and a friend of the club. Disrespecting him or my old lady will guarantee you a one-way ticket to hell. That goes for all of our families. Your old ladies, your kids, your friends outside the club.” He leaned over the railing as far as he could, until he was practically bent at the waist. “Business used to be good because as a club, we used to be good for business, until people started looking at us as a reckless bunch of delinquents. That shit changes now. It all changes now. I am going to strip this shit down and take it back to what it used to be, what it was supposed to fucking be from the very beginning.”

Bear shook his head. “This shit isn’t going to be one-sided either. I will make you a promise right here and now that I will never ask something of you I wouldn’t be willing to do myself. And I assure you that I would be willing to lay down my fucking life for you just as you would for me. I’m a member, a brother, just like each of you, and I will live and die as your brother. That I can promise you.”

One of the men tossed something up to Bear and he caught it.

“My old cut,” Bear said, looking at it with a mixture of hate and reverence.

“Here,” King said, tossing Bear his knife.

Bear wiped it on his pants and dug into his cut, tearing the Bastards emblems off, and when he was done, he held up the blank scrap of leather. The once silent group of men erupted into whoops and cheers, whistling and applause. “Your turn,” Bear said, tossing the knife down into the crowd where the men eagerly started tearing at their own cuts.

Bear leaned over the railing and smiled. He was in his element, radiating pure power. A rare smile spread across his face. Genuine. Real. Huge. Reaching all the way to his eyes. “Welcome to your new club. You are now brothers of The Lawless MC.”

The crowd erupted into hoots and applause. Bear looked back at me, shrugging on his cut and flashing me a wink.

It was official.

Bear was now president of the Lawless.

And I was his old lady.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Thia

USING THE PALM of my hand I wiped off one of the plastic chairs surrounding the fire pit and took a seat. With my ankles crossed over the bricks I leaned back, tipping the chair onto two legs. I closed my eyes, soaking in the sun’s last heat as it disappeared behind the tall trees across the bay.

It was that very spot where Bear first claimed me as his own. I didn’t know that’s what he was doing when he kissed and licked his way around my every wound and injury in his attempt to heal me with his beautiful mouth, but I knew it now.

I shivered at the memory, pressing my thighs together as another part of me also remembered that night.

“Hey, Beautiful,” Bear said, making my stomach flip and my nipples harden with just those two words.

I opened my eyes to find Bear staring down at me. His sapphire blue pools hypnotizing me as he looked me over from head to toe. Maybe me and my woman parts weren’t the only one taking a trip down memory lane.

“Looking fancy over there, Mr. McAdams,” I said, with a low whistle. Bear was wearing something I hadn’t seen him wear before. His new cut, which was actually his old cut, because as he had said “took me for fucking ever to wear the leather in.” The patches over his right breast read PRESIDENT, THE LAWLESS, LOGAN’S BEACH, FLORIDA and their bright white color and lack of stains screamed of their newness, stiff with thick black embroidery.

“You ready, baby?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but first, this came for you.” I handed him the white envelope with no return address.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s addressed to you. The Mail America guy dropped it off a few minutes ago. There was one for King too. I gave it to Ray. I didn’t open it. I don’t know what kind of old lady biker code you guys have against postal fraud. Besides, it could be anthrax.”

Bear looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for saving the anthrax for me, baby,” he said, planting a brief kiss on my lips. He sat at on the edge of the fire pit and tore open the envelope.

“I do what I can,” I said, brushing an invisible nothing off of my shoulder.

Bear unfolded what looked like a two-page letter of some sort and as he read his eyes shifted from narrow to wide. His lips moving silently as he read. He stood up, walked a few feet and then reached behind him. When his hand found a chair, he fell back into it, never taking his eyes from the letter.

“What?” I said, watching Bear’s reaction and wondering what impending doom was here to sweep away all of our newfound happiness.

“It’s a letter,” Bear said.

“Don’t make me junk punch you Captain Obvious. Who is it from?”

“It’s from…” Bear held up the pages. I stood up and snatched it. Resting his elbows on his thighs he dropped his head into his hands. “It’s from Grace.”

I scoffed, thinking that he was just joking until I began to read.

My Dearest Abel,

It’s time I told you a story, one I should have told you a long, long time ago.

As far as the world is concerned, they think Edmund and I couldn’t have children of our own because that is what we had lead everyone to believe, but that is only a partial truth. When people asked if we had children, we always said no. It was too painful to talk about then, and frankly, it’s still too painful to write this now, but I owe you the truth and the truth you shall have.

As you know, my mother was old-fashioned and had arranged my marriage to my Edmund with his mother on the very day I came screaming into the world. I didn’t care for him. I didn’t want to be married. Ever.

I wanted adventure.

So a long time ago, in another life, I got my adventure.

I became a hang-around at an MC and got sucked into club life. I was the equivalent to the Wolf Warriors what a BBB is to the Bastards.

Shocking I know, but if you can believe it, I was quite a looker back in my day.

Rebellious as hell too, although I don’t think that ever really went away. Age just has a funny way of tucking the rebellion in under loose and wrinkly skin.