Page 19 of Just Heartbeats (Royalla Motorcycle Club #1)

Kodiak found Baker and Cruz in the storage room behind the garage, clustered together over an open electrical panel. Open-ended wires hung disconnected, and Cruz poked at them with a screwdriver.

"You'll short out the whole clubhouse if you hook that red wire where you're about to," Kodiak said, stepping into the sunlight.

Baker glanced up. "Already told him that."

"Then why didn't you stop him?" Kodiak asked dryly.

"Figured the shock might jolt some brain cells loose."

Cruz flipped them both off but never argued the point. If he hadn't seen the two of them install a two-twenty wire before, he never would've had them do the job. But at the end of the day, they'd get it done, and he could move the mig welder.

Kodiak folded his arms, watching them for a beat before getting to the point. "I'm heading out for a few hours."

Baker blinked. "You?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do you take a day off?"

Kodiak ignored the jab. "Roma's coming with me."

Cruz leaned back, one brow raised. "You taking her out for work?"

"No," Kodiak said flatly.

Baker looked between them, slower to speak. "Everything cool?"

Kodiak didn't answer right away. Roma had no idea how much it would affect them if the others discovered he was messing around with Chopper's daughter. It didn't matter that Chopper was gone. Once a brother, always a brother.

He heard the different tone in Baker's question and the way Cruz's smirk faded into something more serious.

"I need air." Kodiak met their gaze. "So does she."

Baker gave a slow nod. "You two good?"

"Yep."

"Alright." Baker smacked him in the chest. "Will your phone be on?"

"Yeah. I'll be reachable."

"You want backup—"

"No," Kodiak said, sharper than intended. Then, quieter, "I'm not going after trouble. I need to breathe for a few hours."

Neither of them pushed for more answers. They knew the pressure he was under. They'd seen it all.

Cruz went back to the electrical panel, muttering under his breath about frying circuits and bad decisions. Baker watched Kodiak for a second longer.

"That girl deserves good things," he said.

"I'm not the one who needs to hear that," Kodiak replied.

Baker gave him a short, understanding nod, then let it go. Kodiak turned and headed back toward the garage.

He couldn't explain what made him change his plans for the day.

Maybe the way Roma cried over her father without apology last night made him realize she hadn't had time to accept that he'd killed a man.

Maybe when he interrupted her time with the vibrator, she still needed space to understand what happened.

Maybe he was inviting her for a ride because she hadn't asked anything of him.

She'd sat with him last night, while they both had Chopper on their mind.

He'd held her for a long time, until the tension left her body in slow, shaking waves. Until the silence between them stopped feeling dangerous and started feeling necessary. It wasn't until the rain started that he found himself reluctant to let her go—but he had.

That comfort he got from her only made him want to spend more time with her. So, when she walked into the garage and sat behind the desk looking prettier than a recently washed Harley in the sunshine, he didn't pretend not to look.

He wiped his hands on a rag and nodded toward the street. "Come for a ride."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Yeah?"

He jerked his chin toward the row of bikes. "Not too far. I need to get out of here for a bit."

"What about work?"

"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 with last 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. He knew .

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."

They stood there, the river stretching out before them, the wind beating their bodies, and the seagulls hungrily crying. For once, Kodiak wasn't thinking about blood or mistakes or how close he was to crossing the line. He was thinking about her.

And how Roma made everything feel possible and a little lighter.