Epilogue 2

EPILOGUE 2

Lamb

One Year After Ash’s Arrest…

The air was cold and bitter, and winter was rolling in. The cloud over Redwood hung heavy in the sky, full of rain and hail threatening to fall; an ominous sign fit for an ominous day.

A familiar ping on my phone brought up the old but beautiful face of my president, his hair pink and covered in bows from his latest two twin boys’ escapades. I’d paid handsomely for that picture; Anna drove a hard bargain.

Where the fuck are you?

Ghost pain withered in my middle as old memories rushed to the surface. Memories of the choice that had led me to my here and now, standing outside a classic diner in enemy territory.

My fight with Wolf had been one among many, but there had never been and never would be another one like it. Being thrown on my ass, catapulted across the club car park, and slumping at my old lady’s feet had been a bittersweet way to win.

Part of Wolf had been angry that, once again, I’d chosen to use Ash as bait; the one thing that had nearly cost him his old lady and his unborn son, something he vowed never to do again.

But fortunately for him, he didn’t have to make that decision. I already had. A decision that bore heavy consequences and the true ire of Wolf’s fist.

I’d gone behind his back and made moves without his knowledge and consent. He’d hoped to beat some sense into me. Unfortunately, it hadn’t.

The marks had faded many months ago, but the true reality of what I had done, of the choice I had made, had been lurking beneath the surface. Waiting.

Until now.

I thumbed the cold metal in my pocket, the weight in my palm far exceeding that of any ordinary coin. Then again, it didn’t belong to any ordinary person.

I opened the door, and burned coffee, pancakes, and cigarette smoke welcomed me. The bell above the door chimed, but there were no patrons or staff to glance my way. The room was dark, dust floating in the air at the small, dispersed daylight sifting through the blinds.

Two familiar figures were stationed at the counter.

One was standing, shoulders squared, familiar bright blue eyes unimpressed on top of the fierce scowl.

The other lay languished on his stool, legs propped in a wide-spread, elbows resting on the bar behind, with one knuckle raised in the air, a familiar gold coin dancing across his fingers.

“You owe me a favor,” the devil purred, molten gold eyes glowing through the dark.

Even in the dim light of the room, his dark black skin nearly mixed with the shadows gathered and shifting behind him, his white, sharp smile spreading with delight, savoring his next words.

“I’m here to collect.”