"Spit it out. You know I hate waiting," I said, wincing at my sharp tone.
My gaze looked for my men, wondering if they sensed coming what I did.
How their lives were about to change once again.
"Yeah, I do," Rider agreed, reaching up with his free hand to rub the back of his neck. "Pops is taking the chapter from you."
There it was.
I'd seen it coming.
But it still felt like yet another knife to the gut.
"You can't be serious," Dutch snapped, standing up for me, and I could have kissed him for his outrage. "After all she's done to get a fucking traitor out of this club, you're going to stand here, look her in the face, and say she doesn't have what it takes?"
"I've never felt that way," Rider said, shaking his head. "You know I've never felt that way," he added, looking at me, pleading with me to believe him. "You've always worked ten times harder than anyone else."
"And look where that got me," I said, feeling my shoulders slump.
Fallon moved in closer, pressing a hand to my lower back, knowing I needed comfort, but also that I'd never accept a hug from him in a situation like this.
"I'm sorry, Danny. It wasn't my idea."
"Don't shoot the messenger, and all that," I repeated, but stiffened again. "Wait. No. You're not just the messenger, though, are you?" I asked. "If Pops was closing the chapter, he just would have sent the word out. But he doesn't want to do that. The drop Chewy just brought to him was nice. And he knows business has only been growing. He isn't closing the chapter. He's putting you in charge."
A son.
Like he'd always wanted.
Before the law threw a wrench into his plans.
"That is what he said, yes," Rider said, nodding.
"And you're just going along with it?" Dutch snapped.
"Not sure there is much of a choice when it comes to their old man," Grandpa piped in, trying to keep things from escalating. There had been enough bloodshed for one night.
"If it wasn't me, it would be someone else," Rider agreed. "You know that."
I did.
And if I had to pick someone to hand the reins over to, my own brother was the least objectionable option. At least I knew Rider wouldn't be a dick to my men, the small handful that had been loyal to me even when there didn't seem to be a reason to be, even when it put themselves in danger.
"I get it," I admitted, taking a steadying breath, preparing for more pain, but all I felt was a sort of resigned acceptance of events.
Too much had happened too quickly.
I think a part of me was struggling to keep up.
Maybe there would be grief at some point later.
But right that moment, I couldn't muster up enough energy for it.
"Danny..." Dutch said, holding out his hands.
"You guys like Rider," I said, shrugging.
"We like you," Dutch shot back.
"And I appreciate that more than you know. No one ever believed in me like you guys always have. I'm glad you have each other. And a good new president to work with. I can live with that," I said, giving Fallon a nod, a silent move that said I was done.
In unison, we made our way across the bar.
"Take care of them," I demanded of my brother.
"You know I will," he said with a nod.
"And you of one another," I added, giving my men a smile.
But I turned back at the door.
Because I was done.
But I also wasn't.
"Rider," I called, waiting for him to turn.
"Yeah?"
"This bar," I started, waving a hand around at it. "The Vultures don't own it. I do. You can use it for a couple weeks while you figure out where you are going to set up camp. But it's mine." To that, Rider and my men gave me matching smiles, glad I wasn't just rolling over, that I was going to stand up for myself, even if it wasn't in the way they originally expected. "But I will be really happy if you guys come and hang out once I open it up," I added, giving them a big smile before turning away again, feeling Fallon's arm drop down on my shoulder, yanking me in at his side.
"You okay?" he asked.
I had him.
I had my friends.
I had my bar.
Yeah.
Yeah, I was okay.
And I had a feeling things were only going to get better.
Epilogue
Fallon - 1 week
I'd been worried.
Danny had a really good poker face.
And I wasn't one-hundred-percent sure she was as okay with the whole losing her club thing as she was projecting.
It wasn't that I didn't want her to be okay with it; I was just suspicious.
I mean, the woman had worked her whole life to get her own chapter, her own men. And she'd lost it twice in a week. Once for good.