Free In Dark Woods (Signal Bend Series #4.5) by Susan Fanetti Page B

Isaac’s best friend leaned forward and pushed the gavel to the head of the table, in front of the empty President’s seat. “Aye. It’s unanimous.”
    Every man in the room stood. The unsteadiness Isaac felt as he came around to the head of the table had nothing to do with weakness in his legs. He stared down at the gavel resting on the ebony table he had made with his own hands and asked himself one last time whether he deserved the seat. Whether he deserved the respect of his brothers. Whether he had earned it.
    He didn’t know. But if he hadn’t, he would never stop trying.
    He picked up the gavel. Show took the new kutte off the wall and held it open to him. He shrugged it over his shoulders and swallowed hard to force back the emotion that surged up his throat at the blessed weight of leather on his back.
    Show yanked him into a hard embrace, and the room exploded in applause.
     
    ~oOo~
     
    The Hall was crowded when the Horde left the Keep, but Isaac saw his family right away, standing near the bar. Lilli and Shannon were talking. Gia was nearby, playing cars with Doogie, one of the Prospects Isaac needed to get to know better. And his son was strapped to Lilli’s chest, probably sleeping. That boy was mellow like a Buddhist monk. He looked exactly like his sister, but his personality, so far, seemed opposite in every way.
    His son. Robert Isaac Lunden, now three months old. He’d stood at Lilli’s shoulder while they cut him out of her. There had been some drama at the end—with them there was always drama—and they’d taken him a few weeks early. But he’d been strong and plump, and Lilli had recovered quickly, and now he had himself a perfect fucking family.
    And a second chance to give them the right kind of life.
    Lilli tur ned and, seeing his kutte, gave him a brilliant smile. However, it took on an exasperated tinge as he came up to her. “You are a perverse son of a….mmm! You would choose December to make your big comeback. Jesus.”
    “It’s just a Christmas toy run—back tomorrow. And it’s fifty degrees and sunny, Sport. S’all good.” He kissed her cheek. His mouth at her ear, he whispered, “So, they still want me.”
    “Of course they do. Smart fellas.” Reaching around their sleeping son, she grabbed a fistful of new kutte. “You text me at every stop. Every. Stop. Right?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    He kissed her, then he kissed his son’s dark, downy head. Yep. Sleeping. “See ya tomorrow, Bo.”
    Then he squatted next to his daughter where she was pushing a plastic tractor across the linoleum. “ Daddy’s gotta go. Got some sugar for me, squirt?”
    Gia stood, wrapped her soft arms around his neck, and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “Bye, Daddy.” Then she patted his beard and went back to her tractor.
    He laughed and stood. With another kiss for Lilli, he crossed through the Hall and went out the front door to his bike.
    He’d never be the same. He had aches and stiffness in his back and legs that sometimes drove him out of bed at night. He knew that his days of riding five or seven hundred miles in a day were behind him. He knew that this ride to Kansas City, three hours at the outside, was going to make him need painkillers and whiskey tonight. But his legs were strong again. They moved when he wanted them to. And those aches, that stiffness, was feeling, sensation, and he wouldn’t take even that for granted, even when he had to clench his fists against the pain. Pain, any pain, was better than the dead nothingness he’d once had.
    His club had mounted up, and he was still standing next to his bike. He’d been riding for a month now, but not out in the open. Not until he was sure he was ready. Today, he was sure. Today, he had his club back. Today, he would take the road back. Fifteen months after he’d thought his life was over.
    He swung his leg over the saddle and strapped on his helmet.
    Ride or die.
    “Okay, brothers. Let’s ride.”
     
     
    THE