Epilogue

Song:

Home, Blue October

Edward

The throaty rumble vibrates my chest as I roll back on the throttle. And even after I cut the engine, the smell of gasoline lingers in the air. I run my hands over the supple leather of the seat and buff out a faint smudge on the gas tank.

It's only been on the road a handful of times in the last ten years, but every week, I come out to start it, to clean it, just to make sure it's ready for the day I hand over the key. And today just happens to be that day.

I spend a few minutes straightening up the workbench, cleaning up tools Sam's used and forgotten to put away. He's been an excellent student, even if he is a messy worker. We'll have to change that when he starts working for me. The corkboard over the bench is pinned with several of my favorite candid pictures from over the years. They're all memories that I want to hold onto—snapshots from our wedding day, the day our baby girl was born, the first time Seth sat behind the wheel of the Nova for a driving lesson, and a similar one of Sam. I have a lot of the same shots in my office at the shop. Wherever I am, I'm able to see them every day.

"You really think he's ready for it?" Bella asks from the doorway.

I look over my shoulder. She's nervously gnawing on her bottom lip, her arms wrapped around her waist as she stares at the Panhead. I hold out my hand and beckon her over. "Come here."

She steps to my side and wraps an arm around my waist. "It's a lot of bike for him, Edward."

I kiss the top of her head. "He's been riding for a year, babe. He's always safe, careful. Sam's a good kid. He can handle it."

She looks up at me. "You'll—"

"I will. We'll take it out a few times together to make sure he has a good feel for it before I let him go off on his own."

She nods and squeezes me. "Okay."

"Is everything ready for his party?"

"Almost. I still need help setting up the tables and blowing up all those balloons your daughter insisted on. And Ali's picking up the cake on their way over." She shakes her head and sighs. "I still can't believe Sam's graduating from high school. I feel so old."

I tilt her chin up and kiss her. "You don't look a day older than the day I married you."

The one person who's giving me gray hairs these days comes barreling through the door, into the garage. "Daddy!"

I catch her as she jumps at me. "Whoa, Macie. Where's the fire?"

She sticks out her bottom lip and she gives me what Bella calls the "wrap Daddy around my finger face."

"Sammy said I couldn't have any of the cookies Mommy made. He said they were for his party."

"And Sammy is right," Bella says, poking our daughter in the side. "They're for the party, so you can have one later."

Macie crosses her arms and sticks that lower lip out even farther. She's nine, but some days it feels more like she's going on nineteen with her attitude. She's tiny like Bella, so she looks younger than she is, and I have a hard time telling her no.

And she knows it.

"Maybe just one?" I ask Bella, my own lip out in a pout. In the corner of my eye, I see Macie's face light up, but I don't dare look at her.

Exasperated, Bella throws up her hands. "I can't with you two. Fine. One cookie, and I mean it, Macie Renee." She shakes a finger at our girl. "One. If you have more than that, then no cake at the party. Do you understand?"

She giggles as I put her down. "Yes, Mommy." She runs at Bella, hugging her mother's waist tightly. "I promise." She turns and bolts for the door, shouting "thank you" as she goes.

Bella pokes at my stomach. "You're such a pushover. That girl is gonna get into actual trouble one of these days and you're going to smile, pat her on the head, and send her on her way with a hundred bucks."

I grab her waist and pull her into my arms, smiling at her. "But, Mommy, it's one cookie."

She raises a brow but doesn't argue. When she kisses me back, I know I'm forgiven.

Once inside, I'm put to work. There are tables to set up, coolers to fill, and balloons to blow up. When everything meets Bella's approval, she sends me inside to shower and get ready, so I'll be "out of her way" when it's her turn.

I run upstairs and into our room, stripping out of my shorts and t-shirt. I reach into the shower and turn the knobs. When I turn around to grab a towel, I see a bucket of toys and bottle of strawberry bubble bath in the tub I know isn't Bella's.

Bella spent years living in that claustrophobic trailer, and I take every opportunity to spoil her. But I think Macie spends more time in our two-person garden tub than we do. She says it's her personal swimming pool, even though it was installed for her mother.

Knowing Bella is going to want to relax in the tub tonight after everyone leaves, I clean up the toys before rushing through a shower. Our family has a tendency to show up early to parties when there's food involved, and I don't want to leave Bella to fend for herself with them. When I'm clean and dry, I pull open my drawer to grab a pair of boxers. The yellow envelope at the side of my drawer catches my eye. Stacked next to the few letters we exchanged over the years, the envelope of his personal effects is the last connection I'll ever have to my father.

Pop likely would have been released from prison by now; his sentence was ten years. But as his next of kin, I received a call a few years back notifying me of his death in prison. Killed by a member of a rival club, he's buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in California. It took me months to come to terms with it. I blamed myself for the longest time. Bella insisted Pop chose his fate when he decided to let greed cloud his judgement, even if I'm the one who tipped off the police. And she's right; he did make his own choices. But that didn't make his death and the lost chance of reconciliation any easier to swallow.

With a sigh, I push the drawer closed and grab my clean shirt off the bed.

I've got my kid's graduation to celebrate.

The backyard is full. Friends, family, and a few club members are here. Everyone is having a good time, and I feel like the luckiest bastard alive.

The guest of honor, Sam, is sitting in the shade with his girlfriend Emily on his lap. She reminds me of a younger Bella. She's seventeen and soft-spoken, and she smooths Sam's rough edges in a lot of ways. Along with his love of sweets, Sam also inherited his quick temper from Mase.

We've clashed about more than a few things over the years.

Sam will be starting at the shop this summer. He's already one hell of a mechanic, and I'm looking forward to the day I can manage the business with him. It's a legacy I'm happy to be able to share with him. Lord knows my other kid has no interest in being a grease monkey.

I scan the crowd and find Seth. He's sitting with his girlfriend, McKayla. The boys grew up together, but they couldn't be more like night and day now. My boy is twenty years old and looks more like he's thirty.

Dressed in khaki shorts, a polo, and sandals, you'd never guess he's my kid. Seth's in his third year at UDub, getting his bachelor's in computer science, and he's interning at Ben's software company this summer. If all goes well, he'll have a job lined up there when he graduates.

The boys might be on different paths, but I'm equally proud of both of them.

Macie runs past me with her little army in tow. Ben and Angela's daughter, Leah, is a constant fixture in our house, and Boomer and Maggie's boy, Ollie, follows my little girl around wherever she goes. He's almost twelve and looks at my daughter like she hung the moon. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to keep my eyes on him when they get older. But the loudest of the group have to be Maria and Sasha, Ali and Jazz's twins. The girls are almost more than they can handle some days, but when I look at my sister, I can see she wouldn't have it any other way.

And as if on cue, my sister yells after the kids as they run past her with Super Soakers in their hands. "Sasha, Maria, come back here with those!"

I chuckle and turn back to the grill. Definitely never a dull moment with this group.

Sam follows me toward the garage. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he has the same hunched posture Masen did at this age.

"What did you want to show me? I have to get Emily home by nine."

"It won't take long." I open the door and flip on the light. The bright fluorescent shop light brightens the corner of the garage where the Panhead is parked. I walk straight to it and pull off the cover. Taking the key from my pocket, I turn around. "You know what this is, right?"

Sam swallows and licks his lips as he stares past me. "I do." His eyes flicker to mine and back to the bike again. "It was Dad's."

I nod. "And your great-grandfather's before that."

His eyes flash to mine. "But not Cullen, right?"

"Right. This belonged to your great-grandpa Denali."

The boys know all about the sordid details of the past, even if we don't talk about it often. When I first got here from Arizona, they had questions. Seth especially, since he repeatedly asked to call his grandparents. We sat them down and explained, as simply as we could for their ages, what happened. A few years later, they googled the name of the MC and our last name and came up with a dozen articles explaining the gory details of a decade ago. They know about the guns, the alleged involvement with the cartel, and what really happened to Esme. We answered their questions honestly. We even shared the news of Carl's death when word came. But once it was all out, it was put away and not openly discussed again.

Around that same time, Seth started pulling away from me and got closer to Ben.

"Your dad worked on it off and on for a few years before he died, and I finished restoring it."

His gaze returns to the bike. "It's gotta be worth a pretty penny."

"It is." I hold out the key to him. "And now it's yours."

Sam's surprised eyes snap to mine. "What?"

"It was always your old man's intention to pass it on to you when you were old enough. Well, your mom and I talked it over, and we decided it was time."

With a steady hand, he reaches out and takes the key. He stares at it for a long time, then looks up at me. "He really wanted me to have it?"

"He did. He was never in a position to finish it, but—"

"Because they were piss poor."

"Watch it."

The tips of his ears turn red. "Sorry."

"They did the best they could with what they had, Sam."

"I know."

"No, listen. I know we've told you before, but I'm not really sure you understand. Your father ..." I sigh and scrub a hand over my face. "Your dad had a really shitty life. But he tried to do right by you and your mom, even if he went about it the worst possible way. He ... he loved you. If he did nothing else, he loved you."

Sam nods but remains silent as he stares at the key in his hand.

"He would be so proud of you, too, Sam."

He looks up. "You think so?"

"I know so, because I'm proud of you. You make me proud every day."

I'm not expecting the hug he gives me. It's rare for him to be so demonstrative, so I soak it up, squeezing him tightly until he loosens his grip on me. I slap him on the back and let go.

"We'll go out a few times together until you get a feel for what this thing can do, all right?"

He grins, and for a brief moment, I see my brother in his smile. "What's the matter? Don't trust me?"

I smile and shake my head, nudging him toward the door. "Get out of here and get your girlfriend home."

He's almost to the door when he turns around and wraps me in another hug. "Thank you."

"I love you, Sam."

When he's gone, I pull the cover back over the bike.

"He looked happy," Bella says from the doorway. "I'm pretty sure you made his year."

I smile. "I think so, too."

She walks over and wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me softly. "Macie is going home with Jazz and Ali."

I raise a brow. "Yeah?"

She nods. "And Sam talked about going out with his friends after he drops Emily off."

My hands come to rest on her hips. "So, we'll have the house to ourselves?"

The corner of her mouth turns up. "It would appear that way."

"Whatever will we do?"

She kisses me, long and deep, and for a moment I start to wonder if we can get away with ducking into the backseat of the old car for a quickie. But she pulls back, licking her lips.

"Actually, I have an idea."

"I'm listening."

"Take me out on the bike."

I pull her closer. "You're sure you want to do that when we'll have an empty house?"

She nods. "I am." She leans in close, her lips brushing along the underside of my jaw as she whispers, "Then you can bring me home and have your way with me."

I laugh and shake my head, patting her ass. "Grab a hoodie and a helmet."

We head east, past the shop, past the clubhouse, away from the setting sun. The road bends and turns a little more, and fewer and fewer cars share the road with us the farther we get from town. It's peaceful, just the two of us on the open road. With her legs wrapped around my hips and her arms around my waist, it's about as close as we can be with our clothes on.

We reach a stretch of road that's wide and straight, and I pull my left hand from the bars, reaching down and rubbing the outside of her leg. She tightens her grip around my waist and no words need to be spoken.

This is what we fought so hard for. Moments like this make all the shit we went through worth it. To see our kids happy, to thrive, to have made a life for ourselves and still be happy all these years later makes those early years a little less painful to think about.

When we pass a sign warning of an approaching bend in the road, I know I need to slow down, to downshift. I grab the bars, reaching with my left, and pull the clutch.

The end.

A/N: Where do I start?

I don't think anyone will argue that 2020 has ... sucked. But one of the highlights for me has been having all of you along for this ride. It gave me a distraction, and I hope this little world I created has given you some escape from RL this year.

The response to this story and its prequel was and still is overwhelming. More than 300k words and just about a year of my life, this story took on a life of its own. The flawed characters were more real to me than any others I've written, and that so many of you loved them too has made me beyond happy.

Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, and favorited. A special thank you to The Lemonade Stand for featuring Clutch back in January, and to everyone who has pimped it since. You all rock!

And to my girls! I'd like to thank KJ for her amazing beta skills and for pointing out where I could make the story better, encouraging me to dig a little deeper. Your guidance means more to me than you could know. And to all my girls who have been absolute gifts as prereaders at different stages of this story—2brown-eyes, aushapasha, bbmassey88, BitterHarpy, ceceprincess1217, and Pamela Lorraine. You've all given me such great feedback and held my hand when I thought I was steering off-course. I love you all. Xo

I'm planning several outtakes for this and Shift, so be sure to follow the Clutch and Shift Outtakes story on my profile. And if you think of something you'd like me to cover that wasn't included in the story, shoot me a PM or review to tell me. I'm already having a hard time letting go of these characters. ;)

I've got several things planned for 2021, so if you'd like to come along for the next adventure, be sure to follow me. For the best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. The group is celebrating four years today, and I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220.

I'll be back soon with more words soon! Take care of yourselves and each other, and I wish you a healthy and happy new year. Xo

Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.

Lots of love
~Sunshine