He hesitated a beat longer before unbuckling his seatbelt. Bracing a hand on the dash and the other on the armrest, he carefully maneuvered between the seats. When he paused beside her, she could feel the heat of his body even before he leaned down.
“I thought we’d be parking in some RV lot, maybe grabbing a bottle, locking the doors, and spending a couple of days in that bed before going home.”
Diamond glanced up at him with a crooked smile. “I can find a place to stop. But we won’t be doing the things you’re thinking we’ll be doing.”
He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You sure? I’ve got some real convincing arguments.”
She laughed under her breath, but there was a softness in her gaze that hadn’t been there earlier. “You look like you can barely keep your eyes open. And every time you shift, you flinch. I’m not about to mess around with a half-dead man.”
Sayer leaned in just enough to press a kiss to her temple. “Guess I’ll save the charm for when I’m not bleeding internally.”
“Good plan.” She reached out, fingers grazing his side gently. “Go lay down. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”
He hovered another moment, like he didn’t want to leave her up there alone. Like he needed to say something else, but wasn’t sure how.
“We’ll take that time, D,” he murmured. “Just not yet.”
She nodded, her hand still resting lightly against his ribs. “Soon.”
Finally, he made his way to the back, groaning quietly as he settled onto the bed. Diamond glanced in the rearview mirror, watching him ease himself down, pain tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She didn’t like seeing him like that. Vulnerable. Quiet. But she knew he needed rest. And for now, that was something she could give him.
The soft hum of the tires on asphalt filled the silence, a steady rhythm beneath the low rumble of the engine. Diamond kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her thigh, fingers tapping idly like she could outpace the thoughts starting to press in around the edges.
In the rearview mirror, Sayer had finally gone still. His chest rose and fell evenly, one arm draped over his ribs. Even now, in sleep, his brow furrowed just enough to show the pain hadn’t fully let go of him.
She swallowed hard, eyes flicking back to the road.
They were getting closer. Every mile brought them nearer to Montreal. Nearer to the Royal Bastards clubhouse. To his people. His world.
Not hers.
She knew what the club meant to him. The way it bled into his identity, the same way the Harlots did for her. It wasn’t about cuts and patches—it was about loyalty. Brotherhood. History.
And that was the part that scared her.
Because no matter how deep their connection ran, no matter how good it felt to have him beside her again, a part of her wondered if she was just a pit stop. A warm bed, a place to heal, somethingsofton the road back to hard truths.
Would he choose her when the time came? Or would the pull of his brothers, of duty and vengeance and reputation, be stronger?
Diamond clenched the steering wheel a little tighter.
She wasn’t the kind of woman to beg a man to stay. If he chose the club, she’d let him walk. But it would rip her wide open in a way nothing else had—not even losing Rosie. Not even burying the past she thought she’d left behind.
Because this wasn’t just some old flame. This wasSayer.And she wasn’t sure she could watch him walk away from her.
Not one, but two major accidents had left her stuck in standstill traffic for over three hours. It was enough time to let the quiet crawl in and settle heavy—enough time to be alone with one’s thoughts. And Diamond’s thoughts weren’t kind company. They had her on edge, chewing on worries she hadn’t dared speak aloud.
Now, with the day dragging on and the sun beginning its slow descent, her eyes felt heavy, her body aching from the tension. She let out a breath and admitted what she didn’t want to. She needed a break.
Taking the next exit, she pulled into an empty parking lot and parked. She tapped through the truck’s GPS, fingers stiff from the drive, and searched for a hotel with RV hookups. One popped up just a few miles away. That would work.
Setting the navigation, she turned onto the side roads, weaving through the backways in silence. The weight of what waited in Montreal settled heavier with each mile, but for now, she just needed to stop. Just for a little while.
The sun had dipped low enough to wash the horizon in gold by the time she pulled into the hotel lot. The place wasn’t anything special—half the sign was burned out, and the office lightsflickered like they hadn’t had a proper fix in years—but the RV hookups were real, and the lot was empty. That was enough.
She backed the rig into place, killed the engine, and let the silence settle. It was deep and strange after hours of road noise. She didn’t move right away. Just sat there, hands resting on the wheel, staring out at nothing.
