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Lucky Bastards (Grim Bastards MC) by Emily Minton, Shelley Springfield (12)

EPILOGUE

Trix

Walking out of the bathroom stall, I button up my jeans and head to the sink. After washing my hands, I look into the mirror. Running my fingers through my short locks, a slight smile spreads across my face. My once long wavy hair is gone, only to be replaced with shoulder length curls. For some reason, it grew back in tight curls. It’s thinner now, too, not nearly as thick as it was before chemotherapy. My doctor says I may never get back my thick locks, but at least I have hair again. Boz says he loves it. He definitely loves grabbing hold of it while he kisses me. I love it, too. It’s cute, different but cute.

My phone dinging with a text draws me from my thoughts. I step away from the sink and pull it out of my pocket, smiling when I see Addy’s name pop up.

Where you at, bitch?

I quickly answer, letting her know I’m in the back bathroom at the clubhouse, then look back into the mirror, my attention going directly to my chest. My hair isn’t the only thing that has changed. I now have breast implants, nice perky C cups that will not sag with age. I figured Boz would love them, but it took a while for him to get used to the new me. He told me that he loved my tits but part of him missed my scar. He missed seeing it and remembering how hard I fought to stay with him and our children. I don’t need the scar to remind me, because I am still fighting every day, fighting to not give into the fear that the cancer will come back and take me away from the people I love.

“Hey, chicky, what the hell is taking you so long?” Addy asks while opening the bathroom door and stepping inside. “We need to hit the road. We’re supposed to be in Nashville by noon to meet up with the clubs from down south.”

Addy, Pru, Lisa, and Gidget worked together with old ladies from clubs throughout the southeast to organize a cancer run. Bikers came out the of the woodwork. We have bikers here from half the MCs in a four-state area. Not to mention, every weekend warrior has shown up to ride wearing a pink ribbon pinned to their cut. Each one is paying a fee to be involved while wearing a smile on their faces. All of that money, every penny, will be donated to breast cancer research.

“I was admiring my new tits,” I say, grabbing my boobs and giving them an affectionate squeeze. “Aren’t they just beautiful?”

“Yeah, they’re really nice,” she says with a laugh, before adding, “You’ve been admiring them for the last two years. I figure you’ve shown them enough love.”

I had my reconstruction surgery a couple of months after completing chemo. I actually got the all clear for the surgery earlier, but Boz and I wanted to give my body a little time to heal before cutting on it again. At the time, it was hard to wait but it was the right decision. Chemo was hard on me, and I needed some time for my body to grow strong again.

My lips tip up as I walk to her and give her a hug. “Thanks for doing all this.”

She gives me a tight hug in return, then steps back and asks, “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

I’m not sure how to answer that. I’m excited about the charity run, grateful my friends put it together, and proud the biker brothers came together to support such a good cause. Still, I’m at the verge of tears just thinking about what it represents. Today is not about me, not about my cancer. Today is about Mom, about the battle she fought but lost. Every biker will be riding in her honor during the First Annual Patty Slade Memorial Cancer Run.

Pulling in a deep breath, I get my shit together. No way will a tear fall from my eyes today. It’s been four and a half years since my mastectomy, and I feel like a completely different person. It’s almost like someone else has taken over my body, someone stronger. Facing death does that to a person, causes them to grow a backbone. For me, considering I already had a backbone, mine is now made of steel.

Blowing out a long breath, I nod my head. “More than ready.”

We walk out of the bathroom and go in search for Boz and Brew. They aren’t in the common room, but Pru, Gidget, and Lisa are. I want to make sure that I thank them again for putting this together. My friends worked hard, and they deserve to know just how much I appreciate it.

Walking over to them, I give each of them a hug before saying, “Thank y’all so much for this. I know it was a lot of work, but Dad, Boz, and I really appreciate it. I hope we can make this an annual event.”

Addy jabs me in the ribs with her elbow. “Of course, we will. It’s for a great cause. Why wouldn’t we do this every year?”

Turning my attention to Lisa, I say, “Thanks again for helping to keep an eye on the little ones while we’re gone. I know you would’ve rather gone with us, but it’s nice to know they will be here having fun while we’re gone.”

She smiles, looking to the other side of the common room, where the kids are playing some video game. “I’m glad to do it. Round, on the other hand, isn’t too happy about not being able to ride. He still tried to get up and go anyways, but I worked a little magic that had him back in bed. Luckily, it wore him out, so he will be staying there.”

We had planned to let the younger kids go to friends’ houses while we rode. At the last minute, Fiona and two of Addy’s girls threw a fit. They didn’t want to go anywhere, wanted to be at the clubhouse with the older kids. Thankfully, Lisa stepped up to be their babysitter, since she wasn’t able to go on the run. Round caught strep throat from Marley a few days ago. She’s completely fine now, but Round is sick as a dog. There is no way he can ride, so she figured her time would be spent better taking care of the kids.

“You ladies need to get your asses in gear,” Smoke says from the doorway. “We need to be hitting the road.”

After saying goodbye to Lisa and the kids, we head toward the door. I come to an abrupt stop as soon as my eyes hit the parking lot. I just can’t believe what I am seeing. There has to be a hundred bikes in the yard. Each one has a biker on it, each biker wearing a light pink bandanna somewhere on their body.

Gidget places her hand on my back and asks, “What’s the matter?”

I wipe a tear off my cheek and shake my head, with a smile on my face. “Not one damn thing. In fact, everything is perfect.”

The words have just left my mouth when I notice my dad with Lettie sitting on his bitch seat. His eyes are trained on me. Even from the distance, I can see the pride in his eyes. This day is for his woman, my mother. He may have Lettie now, but his heart will always belong to my mother. I raise my hand then bring it to my chest, covering my heart. He does the same, both of us smiling.

“We need to get this show on the road,” Pru states, heading toward her old man. “I’m ready to ride.”

She’s right. It’s time to hit the road. Through the years, I have learned there isn’t anything better than being on the back of my old man’s bike. I hesitate for just a minute, letting my friends get to their men, then I head for Boz.

When he sees me, he gives me a wink. “You ready to ride, darlin’?”

Climbing on behind him, I say, “I’m always ready to ride with you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End

 

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