Taking her chin in my fingers, I lean down and give her a soft kiss. “It looks perfect.” And it fucking feels perfect too.
* * *
“One final ride,” Rookie says from the seat of his Harley that stands next to mine. I stretch my arms, my adrenaline serving as a painkiller to my shoulder.
Pushing my fist against his, I nod. “One final ride.”
Diem clings tightly to my waist as I fire up my engine. Closing my eyes, I listen as one by one, every motor rumbles to life. The sound of pipes racking off echoes in my ears. The gravel beneath my feet shakes. My song of choice blares through my speakers, “Bartholomew” by The Silent Comedy.
I say my good-byes today. I start my new life tomorrow. I finally have what I want. Love is not my weakness—it is my strength. I don’t know if I’ll be a better person with her. But I’m the best person for her. And she’s the best person for me. She’s my sunshine. My promise. My tomorrow. My everything.
She gave me hope when I thought all was lost. With her, I found my way. I owe her my life. And soon, she’ll have it.
Until then, I have to live this life. My life. For what will be the last time, my club needs me. So I give them the greatest part of me—my respect, which they more than deserve. Pulling my shades over my eyes, I close the visor on my full face. This might be my final ride, but in this moment, I remember who I am.
I am a one-percenter.
I am Sinner’s Creed.
I am fucking Shady.
EPILOGUE
Three Months Later
“I SAW THAT.”
I roll my eyes at Diem’s words. Could she be any more of a jealous bitch?
“What, Diem? What did you see?” I turn on my sun lounger to face her. She hides her eyes behind her sunglasses, but I know they’re blazing with fury.
“You’ve been checking that girl out for weeks. I’ll kill her, Shady. I swear I’ll drown that bitch in the Caribbean.”
“If you don’t stop acting so fucking crazy, I’m gonna drown you.” Upon my threat, I scan the beach for any witnesses. Lucky for her, this girl I allegedly want to fuck is too close for me to commit the crime and not be seen.
Sitting up, she pushes her glasses on top of her head and glares at me. “Why do you do this?”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath before answering. “Do what, Diem?”
“Act all innocent. Why else would you want to come to the beach at the same time every day?”
Over her shit, I sit up. My knees touch hers as I lean on my elbows and push my shades up on my head so I can match her death glare with one of my own. “I get up every morning at six,” I start, fighting my temper and losing. “I go for a run. I come back and eat cereal because my girlfriend can’t cook for shit.”
Her eyes narrow, but I don’t let it stop me. “Then, I watch the Spanish soap operas like the house-trained, lovestruck, domesticated pussy I’ve become until noon. And guess what happens then?” I give her a second to answer, knowing good and damn well she won’t. “I eat another shitty meal consisting of either a sandwich or chips and salsa.
“After that, I take a nap like a fucking fifty-year-old man because in my sleep is the only time I don’t have to hear your bitching. When I wake up at three o’clock, I like to come to the beach and relax. Now.” I clap my hands together to keep from choking her.
“At any time during my pathetic day, if I had even one moment to be out from under your watchful eye, I’d spend it doing something other than burying my dick inside some random bitch who isn’t nearly as hot as you.”
Pushing my shades back down, I lay back on my lounger. My pulse is racing. I’m trying to catch my breath. My adrenaline is pumping through my body—exposing my veins with every pulse.
“You pissed?” she asks, hope in her voice.
I smile in satisfaction. “Finally.”
“See, honey, I knew you still had it in you.” Diem straddles my waist, and my hands come to rest on her warm thighs. Nobody does a bikini quite like Diem.
“It’s been so long,” I say, rubbing my hands up and down her smooth legs. “I need to get mean before Rookie comes to visit. He’s gonna think I’ve completely lost my balls.”
“Oh, I can assure him you still have your balls.” Diem smiles, and I can’t help it. I have to kiss her. Sitting up, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a deep kiss. She tastes like coconut rum—her newest addiction.
My life here isn’t pathetic in the least. It’s the greatest fucking decision I ever made aside from Diem. There are no worries, no stress, and no problems. The only time I don’t feel pure elation is when she won’t let me have the remote.