— Chapter 100 —
For Those Who Stray

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E L L I O T

A hefty, tattooed arm held me close against the body of a glowing biker on the night we finally strolled back into Joe's Bar.

An onslaught of cheering and applause spilled out madly. Ushered in by a murder of ecstatic Stray Dogs, shouts and whistles split the air, drowning out the faint rock music rippling through the room. Glasses were raised. Smiles dashed across every weathered face.

I did very little to stand in the way as Noah was quickly enveloped in a sea of welcoming hands.

"Drinks on the house!" Splitter bellowed, his voice hurtling over the din. "For the man who cheated death and saved a city!"

A pandemonium of laughter and ovations engulfed the glittering space. It was enough to prick my eyes as Noah's lips spun into a genuine smile, his wounded shoulder refusing to cave under the hearty pats of his enthusiastic comrades. From the way he carried himself to the humble manner in which he greeted them all, he owned everyone's attention like a prince among men. Looking away was impossible.

More than a month had passed since he'd woken up from surgery. To me, that time had vanished in the blink of an eye.

It'd been some of the most important days of my life. Helping Noah with his recovery, processing the triumph of my acceptance letter, and planning out our near future—which involved searching for apartments and finalizing the specifics for our move to New York City.

Life was too short to stay stagnant, after all.

With all the commotion in recent months, I'd put off my college plans for too long—but after a few phone calls to NYU and a well-planned shuffling of the schedule, I'd decided to start my degree in the spring semester. The change would give Noah and I more than enough time to settle in and recuperate before life became demanding again.

We were leaving Boston tonight, and I'd never been more excited or ready for such a change.

Saying goodbye to my mother's grave was unquestionably the hardest part. After the damage I'd done to it, just carrying myself there was daunting and shameful. It'd taken a lot of visits and many conversations with silence before I accepted the reality of our situation. All I could do now was hope she was proud and that she had forgiven me.

I'll be back to visit, was my promise to her headstone. I may not be nearby, but you won't be alone here.

And maybe the guilt would one day release me.

One day.

As Noah basked in the admiration of the surrounding bikers, my thoughts drifted back to the whirlwind of events that'd led to this night. Despite the recent toll on his physical health, nobody was more eager than my biker to leave. He'd made most of our preparations for the move, and short of packing our bags, he'd secured us a temporary place and organized all the logistics with remarkable efficiency. His energy seemed limitless, a stark contrast to the weary figure I'd feared I might lose during those horrible nights in the hospital.

Our combined efforts only left Fuckass to worry about.

As enamored as I was with the little black cat, I knew it was for the best that we didn't take her with us. So, I'd asked around for three weeks hoping that someone would take her in on our behalf. And for three weeks, nothing. That is, until Jesse swooped in, the good-natured savior she was, insisting she take the feline off our hands.

She'd explained that in Chinese culture, cats symbolized protection and good luck, and that it would be her pleasure to keep her. The elderly shop owner was hopelessly fond of animals as it turned out, which came as a great relief to me.

So now Fuckass had made herself a home in the convenience store, with all the canned food she could ever eat.

It was the best possible solution for her. Much to Han's never-ending disdain.

Another positive note to leave the city with.

As for Noah and me, our relationship was better than it'd ever been. He was my lighthouse; I was his anchor, and the two of us were a boat swaying peacefully on quiet waves. Though the ocean occasionally tossed us, I knew with him by my side, any crisis could be weathered.

We'd spent the past few weeks watching over each other. The two of us shared laughs, shared dinners—Noah tried to teach me how to cook while his arm was decommissioned (it didn't go well)—and we even shared the occasional nightmares, late at night. And when we weren't otherwise preoccupied, we were tying up loose ends and packing up boxes, bidding farewell to the place we'd both called home for so long.

Then, over the last two days, we'd made our goodbye official by christening every flat surface of the apartment.

...Twice.

Best. Weekend. Ever.

"Alright, alright." Resonating like a musical note, Noah's charismatic presence easily commanded the crowd. "Pull your heads in and listen up."

He'd made a stage of one of the booths, standing tall in chunky boots on a polished table.

Stray Dogs gathered around him in a bustling circle. Chains was somewhere in the middle of all the excitement, his arm strung over the shoulder of a nearby friend, a toothpick in the teeth of his smirk.

After a few more whistles and stray shouts, they eventually piped down, obeying the patient finger Noah had put to his lips. Someone handed him a shimmering glass of whiskey during the meantime.

Once they were ready, he spoke.

"It's been a rough year, hasn't it, boys?" Voices quickly stirred back and forth at the question. "Yeah. I could stand up here and talk plenty about what we've achieved in these last few weeks, but it wouldn't be right to start without first thanking you all. It's only because of your combined efforts that Boston is safe today. Our city, our home, our people—they're all better because of the work we've done to make sure these streets stay clean." He held up his drink. "None of that would've been possible without you."

A symphony of cheers and clinking glasses rang out, and I joined in from where I stood by the bar counter, playfully cupping the sides of my mouth.

It was a moment before the noise settled again, Noah's expression growing somber.

"But I also know how much we've sacrificed." His voice fell into a saddened tone, magnetic to the rest of the grief in the bar. "Whether through street racing, or violence, or the drugs they were pushing down our fucking throats, everyone in this room lost someone important this year. Family. Friends. Brothers. While they're no longer with us, know that they live on in all our hearts, and that their lives have not gone unavenged." He raised his stare and spoke with weighted words. "Our enemy is dead. His allies now hide in the shadows, and they're afraid. They know they will never have a place on our streets as long as we're here to protect them."

More cheers broke out. This time, their voices were tinged with fierce pride, and Noah drew in a breath as if he were drawing power from their resolve.

He took a sip of his drink.

"Protect," he repeated, his tone reflective. "You know... It's kind of strange. A few weeks before my uncle died, we sat down together—right there, in that booth," he gestured to one corner of the bar with a nostalgic smile, "and we talked. I asked him what I could do to make a good leader. I asked what the Stray Dogs needed to be better as a club, and you know what he told me? He said, give them a purpose. Back then, I didn't know what he meant. But now I think I do."

He paused again, letting the room simmer with anticipation, hung up on his every word. "When my old man created this club, his purpose was clear. Clean up the streets. After he passed, my uncle took his place, and his purpose was to clean up the people. With his guidance, and your support, the Stray Dogs became a community where anyone who felt unwanted could put themselves towards something worthwhile. We became a family of our own. And now I'd like to include my own spin on the legacy."

The members exchanged optimistic glances and keenly leaned in to hear what would come next.

"Protect the city," Noah loudly announced. "For our loved ones, for the health of our neighborhoods, and for the safety of our streets—our purpose is to protect all of it. With police who can be bought and politicians who don't give a damn about us, we can't depend on anyone else to dish out the justice we deserve. From now on, we're the boundary."

Murmurs of agreement rippled across the Stray Dogs. Noah continued, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"We'll be the ones standing between the innocent and the corrupt, the weak and the powerful. And as proud as I would be to spearhead our new future with you all, I think there's someone in this bar who'd be much more deserving of the role." His amber eyes scanned the room, spotting a head of silvery-white hair and studded piercings. "Chains, get up here."

Everyone in the room collectively turned.

With surprise and hesitation etched across his face, Chains laughed awkwardly. There was a moment of internal deliberation before he finally shuffled toward the front.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hurriedly mouthed.

Noah hopped off the table in a casual stride.

Resting a firm hand on the shoulder of his second-in-command, the prince of the club turned to address the rest of his loyal bikers.

"I'm sure many of you have heard the rumors by now," he spoke, "and I'm here to tell you that they're all true. I'm stepping down from my position in the club." Gasps and murmurs erupted all at once. "After eight years of service, I'm heading to New York to be closer to my family. Trust me, I'm going to miss you motherfuckers, but it's time for me to move on to those who need me most." A wide grin illuminated his face as he declared, "Which is why I'm honored to announce my brother, Chains, as the new president of the Stray Dogs Motorcycle Club."

Chains stalled.

"What?" he breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

Mirroring the lively bodies around him, Noah eagerly explained, "As much as it pains me to be leaving, I know I'm letting this place go to better hands. Chains has been with us all through thick and thin over the years, and there's no person on earth I would trust more with this responsibility. So, let's put our hands together and give him a round, boys!"

The bar exploded with supportive chants and whistles. Hands clapped against Chains's back. He stood there, processing the enormity of his new role, while Noah watched on with applauding hands and a proud smile.

I was cheering for them both.

"I... I don't know what to say. Is this real? Fucking hell." Looking out at the sea of familiar faces, Chains blabbered, "Thank you. Thank all of you. I'm shit with speeches, but... I won't let you guys down."

Rusty raised his drink high, his gruff voice powerful with emotion.

"Everybody raise a toast!" he called. "To our past, our present, and our future—long live the Stray Dogs!"

A roar of approval followed those words. United under their new leader, the Stray Dogs upturned their glasses and cheered wildly, and I lost sight of Noah and Chains in all the bustling commotion. Letting them have their moment, I clapped from the sidelines, trying not to look claustrophobic with all the deafening noise.

It was the most alive I'd ever seen Joe's Bar. The Stray Dogs were lit up with smiles and laughter alike, united in their brotherhood and the worn vests that donned all of their backs.

As they celebrated, the raspy voice of an old friend emerged from the counter behind me.

"Things change so fast around here, don't they?" said Eve, who was wiping down the marble surface. "Feels like just last week you were sweeping up the glass after these rowdy bastards."

"And now I'm in love with one of them," I replied, chuckling in disbelief.

"Tragic. I'll keep you in my prayers."

"Very funny."

"I just don't get how the two of you work," she admitted, meaning well. "Polar opposites in my opinion. You're considerate and quiet, and he's scary and grim. Don't you find a man like that intimidating?"

I laughed at the question. "Him? Intimidating? Please. He can barely decide on his outfits without my help."

"How reassuring," Eve uttered sarcastically.

Turning to spot my biker laughing in the middle of a group of rowdy Stray Dogs, I felt my soul soften.

"Noah has his moments. And sure, maybe there's some rough edges here and there, but he also has an exquisite heart." Leaning against the counter, I openly mused, "Really, he's just... human."

Eve dusted her hands. "Well, I suppose if anyone could bring out the best in him, it'd probably be you. Just keep an eye out, alright? Life isn't exactly gentle. Especially not in New York."

"I know. But I'm not exactly fragile, either."

"No," she agreed with a knowing look, "you're not. I guess that's why you worked so well in a shit-hole like this. It was fun while it lasted."

A smile tugged on my lips. "You're going to miss me."

"I'll miss having someone around who can cover my ass on the graveyard shifts. And who knows how to close properly. And who's smart enough to chase after a chicken and come out on top. Other than that—I think this joint is on to better days."

Feeling the weight of something unspoken rise in my throat, I pulled on a few locks of my hair and asked her a careful question.

"Do you think my dad will be okay on his own?"

Eve sighed and offered up a sympathetic look. "I think he's a grown man who should learn to act like it. About time that he stops living off your shoulders."

She didn't know the half of what'd happened between me and Malcom, but her words were something to think about. Of course, I hadn't seen him since that day, and I had no plan to. Hopefully he wouldn't learn about my departure until I was already long gone.

May we never speak again.

I lost a thankful breath. "Take care of yourself, Eve."

"Gladly," she replied. "Have fun in the concrete jungle, sellout."

We waved each other off, and while she went to tend to other patrons, I wormed my way through the crowd, finding Noah and Chains in the middle of a touching heart-to-heart. The sight made my chest warm.

"I'll never forget what you've done for me," I heard Chains mumble, his tattooed arms wrapped around Noah's neck in a tight hug. "Safe travels, man. We'll hold down the fort until you come back to visit."

Noah chuckled and patted his back. "Don't cry, Chains. You're a leader now."

"Yeah." Frantically rubbing his own cheeks, the new president nodded. "Yeah, I got it."

Making my presence known, I joked lightly-heartedly to Chains, "I don't think I've ever seen you sad like this before. Are you okay?"

Chains put a dramatic hand to his forehead.

"My loving husband is running off to New York with a perky little boy-toy he's known for like, two weeks. It's devastating!" Shaking Noah's shoulders, he wailed, "I'm fuckin' devastated!"

"Husband?" said Noah.

"Boy-toy?" I questioned.

"Seriously, do you not love me anymore?" asked Chains, acting for show. "Does our marriage mean jack shit to you? When did I become the other woman?"

Noah sighed. "You're being melodramatic."

"Oh," snapped Chains, "so now you're clowning on my emotions? What's next, cheater? You going to gaslight me?" He looked away, crossed his arms, and huffed like a wronged housewife. "I'd say we should book in for couples therapy, but I don't even think we can bounce back from this, honestly."

"You'll be fine, Chains," my biker deadpanned.

"No. You know what?" Pointing to the door, he demanded, "Go. Take him with you and have fun in the Big Apple together. You two deserve each other."

I let out my laughter as Noah pulled me out of the way of nearby Stray Dogs and closer into his side. Holding his uninjured arm over my shoulders, it was difficult to act unaffected by his warmth. 

"We'll miss you," was my promise to Chains, as I tried to ignore Noah's fervent stare. "But we'll only be a state over, so it's not like you're never going to see us again."

Chains pouted with a scrunched nose. "You'd better take care of my brother, you hear me?"

"I'll do my best," I replied bashfully.

It must not have been very comforting, as he pulled an unhappy face and tugged stressfully on the lapel of Noah's leather jacket.

"I'm not disappearing off the face of the goddamn earth." Adjusting his tender shoulder, Noah explained, "You'll always be able to reach me on the phone, and New York is only four hours away. We'll stop by for all the big events and everything."

"It's not the end of the world," I added.

Chains swiveled around. "Easy for you to say! What if I get in a fight with a bear and need my best friend to sub me out? What if I lock eyes with a spider late at night and need him to bring a flamethrower? What about that shit, huh?"

"Why would you ever get in a fight with a bear?" asked Noah with a puzzled glance.

"Fine, maybe not a bear—but don't act like spiders aren't a real threat. They'll lay eggs in your ears, you know." He cupped his own for emphasis.

"Oo-kay. I think you could use something to take the edge off." Pulling away from me, he reminded Chains, "This is meant to be a celebration, remember?"

I helped him push the new president in the direction of the bar, listening as Chains continued to whine.

"What are you even trying to insinuate, anyway?" he argued with Noah. "What, you don't think I'd be able to beat a grizzly if I came across one?"

"It's a fucking bear, dumbfuck."

"So?"

"So, you can barely beat the 'Snooze' button when your alarm goes off in the morning." Noah plopped his friend down on a gilded barstool. "But maybe if the bear challenged you to a pillow fight, then sure, maybe you could fuck it up."

"I definitely think you could beat it," I teased whilst waving down a bartender.

"See? That's helpful! Thank you!" Slapping his hand against the onyx counter, Chains yapped, "I'm glad someone around here can recognize my brilliance."

"Nope," my biker said. "He's trying to get you killed."

===

Several long hours of celebration passed. Eventually finding myself alone in the parking lot for some fresh air, I occupied myself with checking the straps on the back of Noah's truck—where Baby was securely fastened for our road trip—and even had a lengthy conversation on the phone with Riven.

We'd already seen each other in person a few days ago, but he wanted to call and say goodbye one more time. Despite our occasional misunderstanding here and there, it was still good to hear his voice. I knew I'd probably miss seeing him around and stealing all of his bartending tricks.

A few Stray Dogs came and went, saying hello and shouting out at me as they passed, but for the most part I sat alone on the side tray of the pickup and took in the tranquility of my last few moments in Boston.

This was it.

Finally, after twenty-four years, I was stepping out into something different. Something new.

Was it normal to feel this nervous?

I was terribly excited. I wanted nothing more than to make a life with Noah somewhere far away from here. But I was also petrified. What if New York wasn't the dream I thought it would be? What if we got there, and Noah regretted leaving this, leaving behind the Stray Dogs he grew up with? What if he regretted me?

Don't be crazy, I told myself. It's stupid to listen to anything that pops into your head after ten p.m., remember?

I was pried out of my ruminations by the shadow of a larger-than-life presence appearing in my view.

"Hello, you."

It was embarrassing just how quickly that voice made me grin.

Noah looked like an angel's halo in the radiance of the moonlight. Like spider silk, his dual-coloured hair glistened. Stopping in front of me, he stood tall with his fists in the pockets of his leather jacket, while his father's silver ring danced between his collarbones. His lips were my favorite shade of scarlet, curved upward, looking like they would readily devour me if I only asked for it.

"Finally managed to escape, then?" I spoke coolly, moving to lean on my palms.

Noah chuckled. "Barely. Chains cried into my shoulder for so long that he even had me fucking tearing up. Very low blow to my street cred." He spoke with a voice akin to the aura of a fireplace, warm and deep and familiar. "We should probably leave before he changes his mind on killing us."

"I'm sure we could spare another minute."

Sitting upward, I pulled him close by the fabric of his jacket, letting him settle in the space between my knees. My fingers carefully soothed his stitched-up shoulder. His hands instinctively went to rest on my thighs, and a playful glint shimmered in his gaze.

My lips were soft as I breathed, "You know, I think I'm forgetting again. Remind me?"

Noah's eyes smiled.

"I love you," he helplessly obliged. "Is it so forgettable?"

"No, just worth repeating."

His smile carried down to his mouth and the silvery tongue stud peeked out between his teeth.

"It's a nice look," he acknowledged.

"What is?"

"That joy of yours." Brushing his thumb against my nose, he asked curiously, "Why so happy?"

Such an easy question to answer. "Because you're coming with me," I confessed with a laugh. "Because I get to keep you."

"Keep me?"

"Mm-hm. You're the only thing I need."

"You really think I'm worth that much?"

I quickly nodded. "That and a whole lot more."

And for a minuscule second, I caught the rosy tint of a blush cascading down the back of his freckled neck. Hiding it from me, Noah returned the sentiment by placing a chaste kiss against my right temple.

He then murmured by the shell of my ear, "It's dangerous the way you talk to me, angel."

Something tensed in my stomach at that statement, like a million white dandelions blowing fluff into the breeze. I nestled into his body for a hug. Somewhere in there was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and I listened to it contentedly as Noah brushed ringed fingers through locks of my windblown hair.

"You've said all your goodbyes?" he asked me quietly.

"Mhm. I'm ready to leave whenever you are."

"Good boy." Then, drawing back for a moment, he pointedly realized, "Hey, aren't you forgetting something else?"

A dimple popped in my cheek. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Don't make me ask for it," he cautioned.

"Oh? But you're so good at begging, Sugar."

His expression turned serious, caramel eyes clouding over with fervent desire. "Just tell me you love me. Won't you, please?"

"You might have to wait a bit longer," I teased him, leaning forward until his soft exhales tickled my cheeks. "It'll lose meaning if I say it as often as you do."

"Then stop giving me so many reasons to say it," he countered.

I opened my mouth to speak again but stopped short when Noah's feathery lips pressed against my cheek in a gentle kiss. He did the same to my left ear next, then my jaw, and I stifled a gasp when he decidedly nipped on the flesh of my neck. It was a manipulative little move, one I couldn't possibly overcome.

"Noah," I shuddered, curling my grip into his distressed shirt.

"Don't torture me, gorgeous."

"I love you, Noah."

The curve of his mischievous smirk pressed against my skin. "Mm," pulsed his satisfied tone.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'll just never get used to the way you say my name." His gaze reflected a tenderness I wasn't quite ready for, making my heart fumble up its pathetic beat.

"You don't think I'm wearing it out?"

"Not at all," he uttered into the cold night air. "You wear my name like it was made for you."

I laughed as he pecked my cheekbone. "Okay, you're definitely too smooth for your own good. It's a wonder you don't get paid for lines like that."

"Those smiles of yours are enough of a reward."

Point proven.

While he continued to kiss away at me, I continued on, "And I liked your speech, too. The innocent and the corrupt, the weak and the powerful—seriously, did you come up with that on the spot? Or did you rehearse it in the mirror?"

"The first option, for sure." Holding my hips in place, he spoke, "What can I say? Cheating death makes a man poetic."

"I think you had half of the room staring at you with stars in their eyes."

"Guess I just have a way with words then, huh?"

His velvety lips brushed mine for a brief moment, but before I could properly kiss him, he turned away to focus on the space between my jaw and neck.

"Way with a lot of things, apparently," I murmured.

"Like this here?"

Nipping and sucking, his lips found the shell of my ear, and I immediately became a puddle of helpless shivers and sheer embarrassment.

Biting the side of my cheek, I stifled any deplorable noises as the simmering heat of lust rushed into my face. The lick of his tongue was agonizingly sweet. Picking up on my determined restraint, Noah punished my silence by slipping his fingers under my clothes. His thumbs pressed firmly into my hipbones, and he sucked harder, the stud of his piercing no doubt leaving its own little mark for me to find later.

I tried to form a sensible thought, panting, "Noah, there's people watching."

Stray Dogs were everywhere in this crowded parking lot. The last thing I needed was to be caught hot-and-bothered by one of them in the middle of Noah's relentless pampering. Sure, they wouldn't be seeing us for a long while, but that didn't make it any less incriminating.

"Really?" the suggestive biker taunted me lowly. "Do you think they're jealous?"

"Noah—"

"For the fourth time? Now you're really spoiling me."

He turned his attention to a new spot at the crook of my neck. Experienced and deliberate, his mouth made light work of it. I focused desperately on keeping my self-control, but the nip of his teeth at my collarbone was enough to make a moan slip through in tandem with a sharp breath. The man was freaking ruinous when it came to situations like this. With him, it was all or nothing, and I was eager to make it nothing before our impulses became a pretty big something.

So I pushed him away. And of course, the shameless bastard was already grinning at me.

"Not here," I whispered.

"Darling," he slowly complimented, "that might be the best fucking idea you've had all night."

"What do you mean?"

Noah put some distance between us and organized my hair with a few considerate strokes. His touches were so gentle, so soft, so entirely different from the way he handled his motorcycle or his fists in a fight. It was a treasure to be so loved by him.

"I'm over the Boston noise," he decided, after pressing a kiss to my palm. "Somewhere in New York is a future with our names written all over it, and we should probably go chase it before it disappears, don't you think?"

All of the stars in the sky paled in comparison to the beauty of those precious words.

"Sounds like the perfect plan," I tenderly confessed.

"Ready to get out of here, Alley Cat?"

My smile grew wide.

"I'd go anywhere in the world with you, Stray Dog."

And just like that, with the passionate kiss that followed, our tender exchange brought along the end of our final night at Joe's Bar.

We checked our belongings. We secured the pickup. Waving off the few bikers who shouted farewells in our direction, Noah and I made ourselves comfortable in the leather seats, and before I knew it we were driving down the same road I'd visited every week of the last five years. Driving away. Driving to a better home.

Even the purring engine beneath us seemed eager to leave. Letting it comfort me, I stole glances at Noah as he handled the steering wheel, burning the scene into my memory. I didn't think I would ever forget it.

This is everything.

Streetlights cast a warm glow on the asphalt. However, just before we could settle into the rhythm of it, there came a rumbling growl from the horizon behind us.

I shot my head up at the sound.

Noah chuckled lightly, glancing into his side mirror. "Just couldn't let us leave without an escort, huh?"

Stray Dogs.

Sure enough, our pickup was being tailed by a small group of instantly recognizable motorcycles. Closing the distance in no time at all, they rolled up in their vests and flanked us on all sides, revving and roaring and popping wheelies like one hellish parade. I could count at least six of them. Their helmets danced in the moonlight. Their tires smoked across the pavement.

And in an incredible moment, Chains's silhouette appeared just beyond Noah's window—leading the pack like a natural-born king.

Family.

My laughter was uncontrollable. Sticking my body over Noah's lap, I watched in a mesmerized trance as the new president dropped a gear, stuck up a two-fingered salute, and dashed right ahead of us in the blink of a disbelieving eye. Noah smirked at the gesture. My heart thudded so fast I thought it would explode.

Gripping my hand tight, Noah's sweet eyes glittered. His essence was the very picture of paradise.

My gaze slowly turned forward. Peace washed over me as I studied the road, the motorcycles, and the many friends wishing us goodbye. They would never know it, but their gesture was more touching than they could've ever imagined.

So many struggles. So many heartaches. So much love and warmth and comfort and support. At that moment, I wouldn't have traded any of it for the world.

Noah and I had persevered.

We were together.

We were free, and we were everything.

And though the rest of Boston was lying behind us now, I had no doubt that our journey was only just beginning.

...The End.

=||A/N||=

I'm just... Like I'm just. Like... wow.
Did I just?? Finish that all???
On a random afternoon in May??
I... think need some time to process.

Thank you guys. For everything.
Epilogue chapter coming soon.