We’re entering our seventh month, and she’s going strong. She hasn’t really stopped since I got acquitted. It’s like that was her green light to take the world by storm.
Starting with us taking a little trip to New York, and me having an impromptu chat with her dad and ex-husband. We packed up what little she wanted, and it’s been nonstop ever since.
She got her money, and invested it in a home for battered women and children, then started house hunting.
We bought our first one and she, Eve, and Antoinette started decorating it. That was until they decided it would be fun to have the walls torn down. Snipe’s cousin is a contractor, and in no time they had a team.
Their company, 3 Designing Blondes, was born.
In six months, they’ve flipped our first house, and have redecorated Charlie’s diner and the main area of Gia’s house in Malibu.
I can’t keep up, but according to Axel’s grumbling yesterday, they’ve completed five projects, yet they haven’t finished his kitchen yet. I had to bite my tongue not to snap, At least you had a kitchen at one time. I’m still without one.
But if this makes her happy, I’ll live the rest of my days without one. Needless to say, 3 Designing Blondes is booked solid for the next six months.
I glance around. This is our dream home—we’re making this one ours. They say timing is everything, and with this house, they’re right. One of Eve and Blade’s neighbors decided to cash out and move to Oregon. Julianna got to them before it even went on the market.
We bought it on a Friday. On Monday the 3 Designing Blondes crew was in my house before I’d even poured a cup of coffee.
The view is unbelievable. It’s close to the clubhouse, three houses down from Blade and Eve, six from Poet and Charlie.
“Dude.” Axel walks by me, shaking his head. “Pull it together, man. You look like a dog panting after a bitch in heat.” He shakes his head at me as he enters my house, and I smirk when he grabs Antoinette from behind, causing her to spin around and jump into his arms. Then they all three happily bombard him with swatches and color samples.
I turn and light a cigarette, grinning at Axel’s misery while I wait for Blade. He’s picking up James Dean from football practice and Nicole from soccer, so he’s running late.
Which is good—I need to get myself together anyway. I walk around to my backyard and the view that’s worth the money we spent on this place.
Home.
Such a foreign word to someone like me. I’ve never had one per se. I mean, there’s the clubhouse, but that was just a room where I slept and fucked.
This… this is where I dream, and not a dream with ghosts in it, but one that builds on something. A need inside me.
I’ve been waiting for something. But deep inside I knew, have always known, she’s the one I was waiting for.
Julianna.
My jewel.
I look out at the valley below, going over and over everything. Because if I’ve learned one thing from what happened, it’s that I don’t leave anything to chance.
Control.
It allows me to sleep at night. Pavel is thriving, and as of now, he hasn’t decided to do something stupid, which is good. Makes the club’s life easier.
After Daniella’s testimony exploded, the state and prosecution were not about to go down. An investigation was launched into the dirty agents in the bureau. Not only did Pearson Madison go down, but the FBI also had numerous other agents on the take.
Justice? Maybe for a few.
I take a deep drag off my cancer stick. I don’t claim to be a saint, none of us do, but we sure as shit don’t rape and hide behind a fucking badge while we embezzle money. Not that I think they’re gone. They’ll be back, just with new faces. As members of the Disciples, we’ll always be looking over our shoulders, but that’s okay. That’s our fate, and as long as we ride hard and love fierce, we’ll all be okay.
Blade’s SUV pulls up in his driveway, and Nicole comes running down the street to my house waving at me as she enters.
“Hey, Uncle Ryder?” She’s still in her cleats, which is not gonna go over well.
A chorus of voices scream, “Not on the new floor!”
I glance over to see Axel walking to his car, his arm wrapped around Antoinette’s shoulders.
I drop my cigarette, snuffing it out with my boot.
“Axel, it’s weird. Before we pick up the twins, we need to at least stop by and check on her,” Antoinette says, digging in her purse. Axel opens the door for her to slide into his GTO.
“Babe, aren’t you tired? You know she’s just being Cindy.” He slams the door, looking up at me, like I can help.