Page 58 of Shadow Strike
“I think it’s a lot of people.The men and women who stood with me in that parking lot.The ones who are still showing up, trying to do better.”CB paused.“I’m just one piece of it.”
Vivi smiled—a real one this time, warm and approving.“That sounds like growth.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She laughed.“Same time next month?”
“I’ll be here.”
He meant it this time.
After a quick check-in with Garrett and Mack, he left the SPS compound and drove toward the bar, the windows down and the summer air rushing past.
The stitches in his side had come out a week ago, leaving a scar that would fade but never disappear.He didn’t mind.It reminded him of what he’d been willing to do for someone he loved.
The Hill’s Tavern parking lot was full when he arrived—a mix of motorcycles, pickup trucks, and a few sedans with out-of-state plates.Tourists had started trickling in for the Fourth, drawn by the mountains and the small-town charm.The bar was benefiting.
He pushed through the front door and stopped to take it in.
The place was packed.Outlaws occupied several booths, their demeanors easy, relaxed.Like this was a home-away-from-home.That was how it used to be, if Lucy and her pictures were to be believed.
A family with two young kids sat near the window, the parents nursing iced teas while the children colored on paper placemats.A group of hikers clustered around the bar, studying the menu and debating burger toppings.
Lucy stood at the register, ringing up a check and chatting with an older couple CB didn’t recognize.She looked healthy, rested—the weeks at the SPS compound had done her good, and being back at the bar seemed to have restored something essential in her.
Desi lay sprawled under the bar, his tail thumping lazily against the floor when he saw CB.
And there was Regan.
She moved through the crowd with an ease that made CB’s chest tighten.Taking orders, delivering plates, and stopping to laugh at something one of the Outlaws said.
Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wore the same faded cut-off jeans and turquoise tank she’d worn the first day he walked into this bar.
She looked happy.Genuinely, unguardedly happy.
She spotted him and her face lit up.“Hey, you.”
“Hey yourself.”
She crossed to him and rose on her toes to kiss his cheek.He had to bend over for her to actually reach it.“How was the session?”
“Surprisingly not terrible.”
“Good.”Regan squeezed his arm.“Hungry?Pete’s experimenting with a new burger—green chile and pepper jack.”
“Pete’s here today?”
She’d hired him to work the lunch rush three days a week.“I think he’s got a crush on Mom.Don’t tell her.”
CB glanced toward the kitchen, where Pete was visible through the pass-through window, flipping patties and looking entirely in his element.The former Outlaw had found a second calling, and the bar had found a reliable cook.
“Business is hopping again today,” CB said.
“It’s been crazy.”Regan pulled him toward an empty spot at the bar.“Between the tourists, the Outlaws, and the regulars who finally stopped being scared to come back, we’re actually turning a profit.First time in two years.”
“That’s amazing.”
“It is.”She leaned against the bar, her expression shifting to something more thoughtful.“I’ve been working on something.A new podcast angle.”
