Page 38 of Heat (The Royal HArlots MC, Quebec City-Canada #1)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“There she is,” one of the guys said, spotting Diamond standing in the doorway.

“You might wanna let the door close before one of the nurses comes down here fussing,” another added with a laugh.

Diamond let the door swing shut behind her. “I see how things are with you,” she said, walking toward the bed. “I’ve been out here worried you were miserable, and you’re in here throwing a damn party.”

“Oh hell, not even an Ol’ Lady a week and she’s already giving you shit,” one of the brothers cracked, laughter rippling through the room.

“No one said anything about me being an Ol’ Lady,” Diamond shot back with a teasing smile. She didn’t want anyone getting ahead of themselves.

She didn’t miss Teller standing quietly toward the back of the room. Diamond gave him a curt nod, then turned her attention back to Sayer.

Leaning down, she kissed him—short, deliberately, unapologetically—to the sound of exaggerated kissing noises from the peanut gallery.

Rolling her eyes, she reminded herself how damn childish men could be.

She studied his face, looking for any hint he didn’t want her there and found none.

“You about to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Sweetheart, if you’re willing to kidnap me without release papers, I’m willing to be kidnapped.”

“Maybe we should wait for the papers,” she said with a shrug. She saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but it melted into a smile.

Her eyes found Teller across the room and this time, she didn’t look away. He stared back, unreadable, arms crossed like he hadn’t just inserted himself into something that wasn’t his to touch.

She felt the heat rise in her chest, the sharp desire to call him out on his bullshit right there, in front of everyone. Let him know she didn’t appreciate being handled.

When the brothers finally cleared out, the room felt too quiet.

The door clicked shut behind the last one, and with it went the laughter, the teasing, the buffer that had kept everything light.

Diamond hated the silence that settled in their wake.

It pressed in on her, heavy and uninvited, dragging all the things she’d kept pushed down straight to the surface.

She looked at Sayer—really looked this time. The bruises stood out more in the stillness. So did the lines around his mouth, the stiffness in the way he held himself.

Without the noise, there was no hiding from the truth of it. How much she cared. Biting the bullet, she asked the question that had been eating at her for the past hour.

“Teller said you might want to head back with them?”

Sayer arched a brow. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

He said it with a smile, but when he saw the seriousness in her eyes, the joke faded.

“Why would I wanna head back with them and not you?”

“I’m just saying that’s what Teller told me.”

“Fuck Teller,” he said without hesitation. “He’s looking out for the chapter. I get that. But I’m not worried about the chapter right now. I’m worried about you. Aboutus … whatever this is.”

Diamond held his gaze. “So what you’re saying is... you’re with me until we get back home?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “I’m riding shotgun all the way home. Just watch the bumps, okay?”

She gave him a slow wink. “I’ll try not to hit them.”

Before either of them could say more, the door opened and a nurse stepped inside, release papers in hand.

Diamond didn’t hear a word the woman said.

Her focus was locked on Sayer, caught in the quiet gravity between them—where all the things they hadn’t said lingered in the space of one shared look.

There was a lot said in that one look.

Too much, maybe.

There was so much she didn’t know about him. Things he hadn’t offered, and he hadn’t asked. Ghosts she hadn’t named. Wounds she hadn’t shown.

Did any of it matter? Would it matter to him, she wondered.

Would he still look at her the same way once the road got long and quiet, and there was nothing left to distract from the weight of her past?

But Sayer just held her gaze, steady and sure, like whatever he saw in her right now was enough. And for the first time in a long time, Diamond let herself believe that maybe it was.

Sayer didn’t hear a word the nurse said either.

Not with Diamond looking at him like that. Like she was waiting for the ground to shift beneath her feet. Like she was daring him to flinch.

He didn’t.

He couldn’t.

There was a hell of a lot he didn’t know about her. He wasn’t stupid. He could see it in the way she held herself, as if there were chapters of her story written in blood and smoke, ones she’d never let anyone read.

And yeah, he wanted to know it all. Every sharp edge, every scar, every name she refused to speak. But he wasn’t gonna ask for it. Not yet.

She’d tell him when she was ready. If she was ever ready.

All he knew was the look in her eyes just now said don’t leave , even if she didn’t say the words. And he’d been left enough times in his life to know what it meant to stay.

He wasn’t going anywhere. Not until she told him to. He squeezed her hand once, low and solid beneath the chatter of the nurse. And when she squeezed back, just barely—he knew.

They’d figure the rest out on the ride home.

Sayer signed where the nurse told him to, only half-listening as she ran through aftercare instructions he already knew by heart. He’d be stiff for a while. He’d heal. He’d live.

It was the living part that felt heavier than usual.

Not because of the pain—but because of her .

Diamond didn’t hover. She wasn’t the hand-holding type, and he respected the hell out of that. But she was there, solid at his side, her silence louder than anything the nurse had to say.

When they finally wheeled him down—hospital policy, even though he’d insisted he could walk—he caught the flicker of tension in her shoulders. Like she was waiting for someone to step in and stop them.

No one did.

Out front, the sun was blinding after days under too-white, fluorescent lights. The air was cold, crisp, and real in a way he hadn’t felt since before everything went sideways.

Diamond opened the passenger door for him, and he didn’t miss the way her fingers lingered on the handle before letting go.

He eased himself into the seat with a quiet grunt, settling back as the door shut with a clean click.

She rounded the front of the truck and slid into the driver’s seat like she’d always been there. Like she was meant to be.

Sayer turned his head, slow and careful.

“You really gonna drive this thing without hitting a bump?” he asked, smirking just a little.

Diamond glanced over, mouth curving. “No promises.”

He chuckled, low in his chest, then let his head rest against the window.

As she pulled away from the hospital, he stared out at the road ahead—broken, winding, unfamiliar—and felt something settle in his chest.