The North Star | COMPLETED ✔️

Epilogue

Epilogue

Almost a week ago, Zeke and Boe carried an unconscious and battered Fred out of the woods and into the cabin. It had taken a day and a half for the old man to wake, and with the threat of a serious concussion, I sat on pins and needles the whole time. But he eventually did, and after days upon days of helping him, he was finally well enough to leave.

A question had burned in my mind since the day Drake left this Earth, but despite all the opportunities I'd had to do so, I still hadn't asked it.

It was over. Drake was gone.

But what would the club do?

Bard killed their leader, and for as much of a dick Drake was, retribution would need to be made. An attack on Drake was an attack on The Onyx Eagles.

Fred never brought it up, and neither did Bard. The two men had kept a respectful distance. Zeke and Boe had left soon after they'd brought Fred in. I didn't know what they'd gone to do, but could imagine it had to do with disposing of certain... things. When they didn't come back, however, I'd asked Bard.

"I told them to head back to the shop in case anyone shows up there," he'd said, his eyes cutting over to the old man, who at the time, was still unconscious on the living room sofa.

The fact that Bard didn't trust Fred was no secret. He'd made it clear since the moment they'd brought the man inside, but he tolerated it. For me. He kept his eyes peeled. His muscles tensed. He looked ready to take the old man out if he so much as sneezed, and I couldn't blame him.

Uncle Fred noticed, but it didn't seem to bother him. If anything, he looked pleased. He'd meet my eyes, and I swear I'd see admiration there. He respected him.

That would go a long way.

The sun was just starting to rise on the morning he'd set to leave. I woke up early, needing to get it out. I needed to see him off and find out where it all stood. If he planned to give us up, alert the club, I didn't know what I'd do. He was like family to me.

I looked in the bathroom mirror and took note of my drawn and tired face. I hadn't slept. My nerves kept me up like an incessant tapping in my skull, and dread about what would happen made my chest tight.

Once Fred left, the club could find out, and his failure to bring it up made me even more reluctant about the situation.

I heard the front door swing shut and hurried to catch up to him.

I found him standing on the front porch. "I wondered if you'd say goodbye," he said, turning a small smile towards me.

I grinned in return. "Of course, I would." I stared at him, his white hair and matching beard, the laugh lines around his eyes. So familiar. Uncle Fred was the only good memory I had of the club. He'd always been good to me. He'd done what he could, taken the time to teach me things, like how to flick a bottle cap. My smile widened at the thought. How to handle a tense situation. How to be strong. I doubt I would have survived the years with Drake if it hadn't been for him.

"Jessie." Fred laid a hand onto my shoulder. "If I'd ever had a daughter, I can imagine she'd be a lot like you. If she was, I can imagine I'd be real proud of her."

My throat constricted. I couldn't speak. This was the last time I'd ever see him. I knew that with every fiber of my being, and it bothered me more than it should have.

Fred was family.

"What's gonna happen, now?" I asked, my voice barely audible. This was it, the moment of truth.

Fred knew what I meant, and his eyes softened. "As Vice President, the club falls to me, now."

I nodded and waited, breath held, heart pounding.