"Fuck work," he said.
"Fuck work," she whispered back. Her smile was quiet, but it burned through him.
She excused herself and ran out of the garage toward the clubhouse, only to return with her helmet and leather jacket. He straddled the Harley and started the engine. The familiar thrum settled deep in his chest. She climbed on behind him, arms looping naturally around his waist.
He told himself it was fine. Just a ride. They'd done it hundreds of times in the last two years. Today would be no different.
They took back roads heading north, the cool wind invigorating. The hills rolled out ahead of them, dotted with cedar and fir trees. Out here, no one expected anything of him. No decisions. No blood on his hands.
Only the sound of the engine, the curve of the road, and Roma's arms holding tight.
He'd gone twenty, maybe thirty miles. There was a clear view of Mt. St. Helens. Time didn't matter when away from the compound. There was no pressure when he was with her, only comfort.
Eventually, he pulled off onto a gravel overlook that faced the Columbia River. Seagulls flew overhead, having come in withlast night's storm, and landed nearby to see if they had anything to eat.
Roma climbed off and pulled off her helmet, eyes bright. "Thank you so much for inviting me on the ride."
Kodiak leaned the bike on its kickstand and slumped on the seat. It'd been a while since he rode for the hell of it. Royalla rode with purpose, power, and brotherhood.
She turned to him, brushing wind-tangled hair from her face. "Have you ever wondered what life was like outside Royalla?"
He thought about the question. "I used to think about it as a kid, but with my dad running the club, I didn't know anything different."
"Me, too. I can't imagine not having Royalla." She stepped to the edge of the overlook and gazed into the horizon. "I'm still not used to having freedom to come and go. But it feels nice not to have to look over my shoulder all the time."
He'd put a lot of demands on her. They were necessary after the attempted kidnapping and then her dad's death, and it wasn't easy on her.
He moved beside her. "You feel trapped at the compound?"
"Sometimes." She shrugged. "Not because of the club. Because of what comes with it. My dad, what happened to him, that wouldn't have happened if he were a regular citizen. Everything that followed was wrapped around Royalla." She checked her watch. "I don't know. Maybe grief makes places smaller, you know?"
He nodded. Heknew.
Everywhere he looked. Everything that was said. Chopper was there, even when he wasn't.
They stood there in silence for quite some time. Then she looked at him—really looked—and something unspoken passed between them.
"It feels different now, with you." Her voice carried in the wind.
"Different in a bad or good way?"
"Different..." She inhaled deeply. "Real."
Kodiak looked away, jaw tightening. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her and lose everything they had.
"You won't lose me, you know," she said, reading his thoughts.
"You don't know that." He swallowed. "You're growing up. One day Royalla will be too small for you, and you'll spread your wings."
"I don't think so." She stepped in front of him now, hands gentle on his chest. "Because I'm never leaving you."
He closed his eyes for a second to let her words sink in. When he opened them again, she was still there, solid and stubborn and beautiful.
He put one hand to her cheek, thumb brushing the curve of her jaw like she might vanish if he wasn't careful. She leaned into the touch, and his blood surged through him.
"You fuck up my head," he said.
"Good," she whispered. "Because you overthink everything."
