Epilogue

It had been a long time since Sam had walked through London without looking over his shoulder. His ‘death’ had made it back to the government and before long, the papers had got wind of the story.

The vigilante, who had escaped prison, had found himself in the middle of a drug war in America, which had cost him his life. Alan had gone above and beyond to make the story stick, even sharing CCTV footage of Sam’s assault on the High Five bar, along with the attack Sykes had dished out in the car park of his motel.

It all fed the narrative, and the papers took great joy in filling in the blanks.

But for now, he was a dead man, and that offered a liberty he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Thanks to Etheridge’s generosity, Sam had spent a few days resting in New York, booking himself into a high-end hotel that offered spa facilities. Not one for pampering, Sam took full advantage of the massage services, with the masseuse commenting on the war-torn state of his body. Sam spun them a lie about being in a car accident, chuckling at the reality of what he’d been through.

He’d been to war.

For the last year or so, he’d been to war. Countless people had died, numerous criminal organisations reduced to dust.

Along the way, he’d lost people.

Good people.

But he’d kept his last promise to Alex, and now it was over.

The fight was over.

Knowing that, combined with effectively being a ghost, gave Sam the warmest feeling in a long time. Before he’d returned to the UK< he’d visited a salon, having his brown hair dyed blonde and neatened around the edges. He grew out his beard, trimming down only the neck to present it as deliberate.

Sam had never been one for style, beyond a military haircut and a beard trimmer.

But while he might have been reported dead, he still needed to look different. Blonde highlights would do for now.

As he strode through Bethnal Green, the sunshine hit him, warming his body, and he felt the traditional British need to visit a beer garden. Maybe that would be the next port of call? As he rounded the corner, he could see the kids filtering out of the Bethnal Green Youth Centre. A diverse group of kids, with different ages, races, and genders all bonding under the wonderful, shared experience the centre offered. Sam waited across the street, watching with a warm smile as Theo’s legacy, his dedication to helping the local community had been taken on.

Theo’s death still hung heavy around Sam’s neck.

He was sure it would until the day he died.