I wasn’t sure how to feel.

Elated or impartial?

Peter was gone. It was confirmed, and it was all over the news.

I didn’t shed a tear for his death. Once the shock wore off, all I felt was a pressure in my chest being released. I’d spent so long worrying about this man, the power he had and what he could do to hurt my family. I’d spent nights worrying about Wrench, wondering if he did do something to remove Peter from our lives that I could lose him forever.

Our lives. This wasn’t just about me. This was about him too.

Somehow reporters had managed to get a hold of my phone number, and my cell had started ringing off the damn hook with people wanting statements or information on what happened. I’d been interviewed by the police, where they’d asked question after question about our relationship.

Optimus told me not to tell them about Peter kidnapping me, and Eric had assured me that he wouldn’t speak a word of it either. Neither of them wanted to give the police any reason to point the finger at me or to look any deeper.

I was thankful for Deacon who sat in on the interview and the club’s lawyer, Matthew, who had been there by my side, ready to cut them off at the knees when things got too intense.

They wanted to know my life story. Whether I needed money. What our relationship had been like. Why I’d left for so long and chosen now to return to Athens. They were searching for a reason to pin his death on me. They wouldn’t find one because I had an airtight alibi with a club full of people who were ready to vouch for me at the drop of a hat.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Wrench asked, his face tight.

I shook my head. “No, you need to be here. It won’t take me long, I just need to sign some papers and let Eric know that whatever he’d left me, I don’t want a part of.”

“I want you to read over everything you sign. I know Matthew has seen them, but just be cautious, and just be… sure,” he said, holding my gaze with intensity.

I was meeting with Eric at his place to go over Peter’s will. I’d already told him I wasn’t having any part of Peter’s dirty money and he understood. I just wanted to get it done and over with so he could become a part of my past, a memory that I could begin to forget and recover from.

Wrench, on the other hand, had shit he needed to do for the club. They knew the police would come knocking, it was only a matter of time, knowing my connection to them and to Optimus. With Wrench’s probation requirements, he needed to get rid of all the computer shit he had and stash it somewhere else. But before that, he needed to clear it all off, make sure there was no evidence that the club had used it for anything.

It was taking a long time. Apparently, it wasn’t as easy as just destroying it. No. There was evidence everywhere that could put him in shit deeper than he could swim.

Deacon had managed to hold them off as long as possible, but they were coming for the club. They knew the club had the motive to take Peter out of my life and theirs. Especially when it had come to light that Ruby, the young girl who’d been killed, had grown up in the area and was the daughter of two of his closest friends. People had testified to seeing them together.

My gut twisted as I imagined what he’d done to that poor girl. Thanks to Optimus and the club, I’d had an escape. She hadn’t, and she paid the price for that.

“What do you mean be sure?” I asked with a raised brow when his words fully kicked in my brain.

He rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, propping his elbow up on the bar. “I’m just saying… I’ve told you before if you want to keep the money—”

“And I told you before, I don’t want it,” I replied, effectively cutting him off.

We’d already had this discussion. Wrench wanted me to make my own decisions about what to do, even if that meant accepting money that he knew would set up our family for life. Wrench wasn’t short of cash, he had a good income and money stashed away, along with a house and property behind him.

And I had my business. Even through all the bullshit that had happened, it was still running reasonably smoothly, thanks mostly to Skylar and few other girls who I’d hired. I wasn’t going to make millions, that was for sure, but I could make a living.

“Go and do what you need to do,” I told him, tiptoeing up to press a soft kiss to his lips, refusing to discuss it any further. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours… hopefully less.”

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t happy about it. “Here’s your new cell phone, I’ve added everyone from the club.” I took it and tucked it in my pocket. With the media hounding me, he felt it was best to just toss the old number and start anew. I agreed, thankful that I wouldn’t have to deal with calls and texts day and night. I kissed him in thanks, but his scowl stayed present.

Wrench’s animosity toward Eric was still as strong as ever, even given the amount of times over the past few weeks where he’d stood by me and help us out.

“I love you,” I told him with a smile before stepping back.

His face softened. “Love you, too. Just get it over with so we can move on…” he smirked, “… and celebrate.”

I snapped a salute and managed to get a smile out of him before turning and heading for the door.

This would be all over soon.

I could feel it.

 

 

“Come on in,” Eric said with a warm smile.

We’d decided to meet at his house instead of his office, mainly because the media was still hounding us both for a story, camping outside his business, waiting for him to come out at all hours. Fortunately, they didn’t have the guts to do the same thing at the clubhouse, so I’d been hiding out there for the past few days. Eric gestured to his dining room table where there was a slew of papers laid out with folders and pens at the ready.

“Matthew has had a look over them and made the changes that you requested. So we’re all good to go, they just need your signature.”

Wrench being cautious had made sure that their lawyer had gone through every single damn detail of the will, and made sure that with regards to my own wishes, that it had all been covered.

I wanted nothing.

Not a single cent.

Not anything that could tie me to him.

All I wanted was to forget.

I took a seat at the table, feeling almost good about what was about to happen. I wasn’t scared or apprehensive, I was just okay. Okay with the fact that my husband was now dead—a concept that many would find devastating or debilitating, something that would crush their world. The difference being I didn’t love that man. The only emotions I felt toward him were malice and resentment for what he’d done to me. The world was a better place without him as far as I was concerned, mine especially.

Eric took a seat beside me and one after another, I read through each paper and laid my signature at the bottom, just like Wrench had insisted. Eric sat patiently with me, offering me the occasional supportive smile.

“Last one,” he said, slipping the paper in front of me and then standing to his feet. “You want a drink to celebrate?”

I thought about it for a second as my pen hovered. “Yeah, actually, that’d be great,” I answered with a smile before returning my attention to the paper.

He moved over to his wet bar and pulled out some glasses. “Whiskey right?” He chuckled.

I grinned. “You know me so well.”

A minute later he set the glass down on the table as my pen swept over the paper, and I pressed a final point before lifting my pen with a deep breath and setting it aside.

“Wow,” I said as I gathered the papers and tapped them on the table to bring them into a group together. “That’s it.”

I handed them over to him, and he smiled as he slipped them into a gray folder and tapped the top. “That’s it,” he repeated and picked up his glass, the ice inside tinkling. He held it up. “Here’s to you.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

Our glasses clinked together, and I bought the drink to my lips, savoring the taste of the woody liquid and the way it burned as it coated my throat. It was strong but refreshing, and I felt my body instantly relax, my shoulders slumping as I leaned back into the comfortable chair.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, just sipping at our glasses, enjoying the end to what seemed like a part of my life that I couldn’t escape from.

“How does it feel to be a free woman?” Eric asked finally with a smile.

I shrugged, I guess for a long time I’d already seen myself as free from Peter, but now it was just solidified. And the idea that I could now move on without his presence haunting me, it felt good. I took another long drink.

“Amazing actually,” I responded, my body feeling light and airy.

How strong was this alcohol?

My hand became weak, and I dropped it to the table, the glass clanging against the wood. My breathing was shallow, and I was finding it hard to move, my body becoming numb.

It was a feeling I was familiar with.

A feeling I knew so well.

I slowly turned my head to look at Eric.

“Good, I’m glad,” he said, his mouth contorting into a sadistic smile. “Because this is the last time you’ll feel that way.”