"I don't want to be outthere," Roma snapped. "I want to behere."
"She's not a kid anymore, Kodiak," Baker said, his voice quieter now, more deliberate. "We've always said the club's a family. If she wants to work, let her work. She's earned her place."
She flashed a smile at Baker once Kodiak looked away. It wasn't in her plan to use someone else to get her way, but if Baker wanted to step up and be her cheerleader, he was welcome to help her.
Kodiak grunted. His gaze shifted as if hiding his thoughts from her. Then finally, he looked at Roma, really looked at her. His eyes were accusing and threatening, but she held herself steady.
"You get one week." He pointed a finger at her. "Screw anything up, you're out of that office and enrolling in classes at the college in town."
"I won't screw up." She stood, sending the stool rolling across the floor.
Kodiak shook his head as if he couldn't believe he agreed to hiring her and walked out of the garage. She caught her lip between her teeth, hoping she'd made the right decision. In her mind, she was, but Kodiak always set her on edge when it pertained to the club.
Baker clapped a hand on her shoulder as she passed. "Welcome to the garage."
"Thanks, Baker." Roma swallowed the emotions choking her.
It wasn't joy, exactly. She had a chance to prove to Kodiak that she was worth more to him than being his responsibility. She wanted him to see her in a different light.
Chapter 9
Kodiak rolled the overhead door of the garage closed and walked toward the clubhouse. His back ached, his hands ached, his knees ached, and the only thing that sounded good was a couple of drinks in the corner where he could decompress from the last two weeks.
He walked through the door. The music was loud, the air was thick with the smell of pot, and the usual Friday night crowd of members was letting loose.
Approaching the bar, he motioned to Baker for one of the whiskey bottles. "Grab me a Coke, too."
Baker set a glass on the counter. Kodiak placed his hand over the rim, stopping him from pouring, and took everything to the table in the corner. He cracked open a bottle, poured the whiskey halfway up the glass, and added enough Coke to top him off. He leaned back, taking a long swig and gazing around the room out of habit, checking faces, hoppers, and moods.
Then he saw Roma.
Near the pool table, cue stick in hand, half-smiling as she lined up a shot. Nate stood close to her side. Too close. His hand brushed against her back when she sank the eight ball, and she punched him in the shoulder in victory—light, easy, real shit her age group did.
Kodiak's grip on the glass tightened. It was the kind of play he hadn't seen from her in a while. Enjoying her time with Nate hit something raw in him. Nate spoke to her, and she leaned into him, genuinely interested in whatever he said.
Of course, Nate was eating up the attention. That cocky asshole was young, always chasing after anything with tits and ass.
Kodiak finished the rest of his drink in one long swallow. He told himself he didn't care. Roma could do what she wanted. She was an adult now. He wanted her to grow up and get more out of life. He owed her that. Hell, he owed Chopper.
But when Nate gestured toward the door and Roma followed him out without hesitation, he grabbed the back of his neck as heat flooded his skin. She had the freedom to come and go. She no longer had to ask his fucking permission.
Five minutes. He'd give her five damn minutes, and then he'd haul her ass inside.
He tapped the heel of his boot against the floor and watched the clock on the wall. The party around him blurred. It was all white noise and movement.
His pulse tapped steadily in his ears, adding to his agitation. He drank straight from the whiskey bottle.
At the five-minute mark, Kodiak stood, knocking over the chair, and stormed across the clubhouse, pushing his way out the door. The night air hit him but failed to cool him off. He scanned the lot, finding them halfway down the line of motorcycles.
Nate had his arms around her. Roma stood with her hands tucked under his jacket, her face hidden in his chest. Something in Kodiak snapped.
He made it to them without being spotted. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Nate looked up, startled. "Hey, Prez. She's cold—"
"Inside." Kodiak fisted his hands. "Now."
Nate hesitated, then stepped away from Roma, hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Prez."
