“Jesus,” I breathe, genuinely touched. “That's...thank you.”
Raze waves off my gratitude again. “Like I said, family. Now get your ass back out there before your woman thinks we've kidnapped you.”
I turn to leave, but pause with my hand on the door. “What about the Vegas chapter? If I'm not taking it?—”
“You focus on your future,” Hero adds. “Vegas will sort itself out.”
I nod, pushing through the chapel door back into the chaos of the party. I search for Charlotte's familiar silhouette.
I find her exactly where I left her—perched on a barstool with Ratchet gesturing wildly beside her, clearly deep into one of his war stories. I watch as she laughs. Really laughs. Happy looks so fucking good on her.
“—and that's when I told the bastard, 'You picked the wrong biker to fuck with.’”
I slide between them, cutting Ratchet off mid-sentence. “Mind if I steal her away?”
Ratchet's eyebrows shoot up, but his lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Be my guest. I was just getting to the good part where I single-handedly saved an orphanage while bleeding out.”
“I'm sure it was riveting,” I say dryly, offering my hand to Charlotte. “Walk with me?”
She takes it without hesitation, sliding off the barstool. “Everything okay with Raze?”
“I'll tell you outside,” I say, taking her hand and leading her through the crowd. Brothers raise their drinks as we pass, a few calling my name, but I keep moving, focused on getting Charlotte out of the noise and chaos.
The night air hits us like a blessing after the smoky clubhouse, crisp and clean against my skin. The parking lot is packed with bikes, chrome gleaming under the security lights. I guide Charlotte past them toward the small garden area on the side of the building—just a few benches and some scraggly desert plants, but it's quiet and private.
“You're worrying me. Is it your leg? Are you in pain?”
I pull her closer, tucking her against my side as we reach the farthest bench. “I'm fine, sweetheart. Better than fine.”
“Then what was that meeting about? You look...different.”
I ease down onto the bench, pulling her into my lap despite the twinge in my thigh. Her weight is nothing compared to the burden that's just lifted from my shoulders.
“Raze offered me Vegas,” I say, watching her face carefully. “My own chapter. Everything that was Ace's would be mine.”
“Thor, that's...that's a big step up, right?”
“It was,” I agree, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Was?” Understanding dawning on her. “You turned it down?”
“I did. Vegas isn't where we need to be.”
“We? You made this decision for both of us?”
Fuck. I'm already screwing this up.
“No,” I say quickly, taking her hands in mine. “That's not what I meant. I turned it down because I didn't want to assume what you wanted. Because this city...” I gesture around us at the neon-lit skyline visible beyond the clubhouse. “This city is soaked in your blood. In your pain. And I couldn't bear the thought of asking you to build a life where every street corner might trigger a flashback.”
“So, what happens now? With the club?”
“I'm going nomad,” I tell her, the words still strange on my tongue. “Keep my patch, my brotherhood, but no permanent charter. Free to move wherever we—” I pause, correcting myself. “Wherever I need to go.”
“And where is that exactly?” Charlotte shifts on my lap. “Where does a nomad call home?”
“Wherever you are,” I say simply. “If you'll have me.”
Her breath catches, a small sound that cuts straight through me. “Thor?—”
