One Year Later

Cara

 

A lot had happened in the year that passed since that night in the warehouse – the night I thought my son and I were going to die. A lot had changed, but a lot had stayed the same, too – and I was glad for it. Damian swept me up into a tight embrace and gave me a quick kiss.

 

“How's my girl?” he asked.

 

“Doing just fine, Mr. President.”

 

He laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, you can knock that shit off any time.”

 

I shrugged. “You're the president of the club. What else am I supposed to call you?”

 

“Oh, I dunno. Your man? Your boyfriend? Your screw toy, maybe?”

 

I laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “You're such a pig.”

 

“Oink, oink, baby.”

 

Ever since that night in the warehouse – and our subsequent freedom – Damian had changed. He was lighter. Happier. Freer. When we'd first met, he'd always carried around this veil of darkness over his entire being. But now, that veil was gone. He seemed just so different – for the better.

 

And speaking of things that had changed for the better, the Kings of Chaos had undergone a radical transformation. Though still a bit rough around the edges, they had become the peacekeepers in town. They were the ones people turned to when there was a problem – which was something that never failed to irk the sheriff. But the Kings handled their business and kept the town safe.

 

We never found out what happened to Mills and his men – and frankly, we never cared enough to ask Crank. I assumed that all five of them had been buried in a ditch somewhere, their bodies riddled with bullet holes, but just like with Mendoza and his guys, I didn't care. They'd threatened my son, and in my opinion, there was no punishment harsh enough to make up for that.

 

“How late do you think you'll be working tonight?” I asked.

 

He shrugged. “Probably not too late. We've got a couple of tune-ups and one transmission replacement. Pretty light day, overall. Which is a really nice and welcome change of pace.”

 

I nodded. “Oh, okay good.”

 

He looked at me, his eyes narrowed. “You okay?”

 

I nodded. “Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?”

 

“I dunno,” he said slowly. “You just have this really weird look on your face. It's like you have something to say. Or at least, something on your mind.”

 

I shrugged. “Nothing that can't wait. You've got your tune-ups to take care of, after all.”

 

He grinned. “Some of the other guys can handle it. Even they can do something as simple as a tune-up.”

 

My stomach was in knots, and my heart was beating so hard, I thought it was going to bruise the inside of my chest. I did indeed have something to tell Damian, but I didn't want to do it right there in the parking lot of the Kings' garage.

 

Another of the changes Damian had brought about within the Kings was going legit. Like, completely legit. He'd gotten them out of the gun and drug trade, and had worked diligently to clean up the club after that. They had opened a garage and had quickly become one of the more reliable auto service centers in town.

 

The Kings were working hard – doing an honest day's work for a change. They were also working hard to rehab their image. And it was an effort that was paying off. Yeah, they still looked like rough around the edges bikers. Many of them still sported thick, bushy beards, had tattoos up and down their torsos – and a few of them even had them on their necks.

 

But they were doing an honest day's labor instead of shaking people down for that honest day's pay.

 

I had to admit, I never thought it possible, but things were really looking up. The former bad guys were now the town sweethearts. They were running a legitimate business, and they were helping to keep the town safe and clean.

 

I was afraid of saying it out loud and jinxing something, but I had to tell somebody. That somebody, being Damian, of course. And better it comes from me than from somebody else.

 

“So, are you okay?” he asked.

 

“Fine,” I said. “I'm great. Doing great.”

 

“Uh-uh. Spill it. Let's hear it.”

 

I looked around nervously – this was not the time or place I wanted to tell him what I wanted to tell him. But he was persistent. He was like a dog with a bone – he'd keep gnawing away at it until he got what he wanted. It was one of the things I admired and loved about him.

 

“Did you want to sit down?” I asked.

 

“Are you gonna tell me you're dying?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern. “That you only have weeks to live? That you're running off with the pool boy?”

 

“You wish,” I responded. “And we don't have a pool. Hence, no pool boy.”

 

“Nah, I kinda like having you around.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” I replied.

 

“So, c'mon. Out with it.”

 

I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. I was nervous as hell about saying what I needed to say. I looked into his eyes and smiled nervously.

 

“I'm… I'm pregnant, Damian.”

 

He looked at me with something like stunned disbelief in his eyes. He just stared at me, a blank look on his face.

 

“Did you hear me?” I asked and grinned. “I'm going to have your child.”

 

Without saying a word, Damian swept me up, pressing me close to his body in a tight embrace. He kissed me quickly, and though he tried to hide his face, I saw the tears of happiness in his eyes. Still holding me to him, he swung me around, giggling like a small child – clearly excited by the prospect of being a father.

 

I looked at him with tears in my own eyes and a heart ready to burst with happiness. It hadn't been easy getting there, but we were finally in a place where life was good. Very, very good.

 

THE END

 

 

 

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