Page 34 of Just Heartbeats (Royalla Motorcycle Club #1)

Kodiak rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension he couldn't shake off. He hadn't slept for sixty-two hours. Every time he closed his eyes, Nate's face crawled in behind the lids, whispering, You'll never keep her safe.

He stared at the wall where he'd taped all the information he had on Nate like a man possessed.

There was nothing there that would pinpoint where he could find him.

Nate had never left any next of kin info in his file.

All they had to go on was his association with the Deception Motorcycle Club, and he posed a danger not only to Royalla but also to Roma.

He ripped off the surveillance photo of Nate stepping away from the car after shoving Roma inside. His blank expression aimed at the camera, as if he knew Kodiak would watch the security recording. The fucker knew what he was doing. There was no hesitation. Roma never stood a chance.

Kodiak ran a hand over his beard, tugging the strands. He'd reached far and wide, establishing contacts in three states who were watching for Nate. He wouldn't give up. If he stopped, even for a breath, Nate would slip through his fingers.

A big part of him wanted Nate to make another move. He dared that motherfucker to try and contact any Royalla member or set foot into the territory again. He wanted the excuse, the rush, the justice of putting a bullet between his eyes.

Behind him, a soft tap on the door interrupted his thirst for revenge. He inhaled deeply, knowing the person seeking entrance wasn't a Royalla member, and there was only one woman who dared to seek admission into the meeting room.

He stepped over to the door and unlocked the room for Roma.

She took one look at him and frowned. "Kodiak," she said softly.

There were no accusations. No anger. And yet, that's what made it worse. He'd failed her. He deserved her wrath. Chopper was probably watching down on him, ready to kick his ass for letting someone put their hands on Roma.

"You need sleep."

"Not until you're safe," he said

"I am in the safest place right now."

"I don't mean inside the building."

Roma walked to his side and looked at the wall, which was covered with a mishmash of taped information about Nate, then back at him. He understood what it looked like. He was going off the deep end, but he had to do something. Somehow, he'd figure out how to get one step ahead of Nate.

She moved in front of him, raised to her tiptoes, and puckered her lips. He leaned down and kissed her.

She fell back on her heels. "Come to bed. You need to rest. Maybe in the morning, things will be clearer for you once you have some sleep."

"I will." When she frowned, he added, "Soon."

Roma left quietly. No slammed doors. No bitching. No ultimatums. Just unwavering support.

He looked back at the wall. Where the fuck was Nate?

It wasn't until somewhere between the second pot of coffee and the twentieth security feed playback that Kodiak realized someone had covered for Nate. He couldn't have done it alone. It was impossible. But who?

The new realization gave him a rush of adrenaline, helping him shake off the fatigue. He grabbed a chair, spun it around, and sat down with purpose. His fingers automatically hit the keys and moved the mouse, tracking shadows in the security camera footage.

There. A delivery van had parked five minutes too long outside the east gate. He did not believe in coincidence.

He rewound. Zoomed. Enhanced.

A reflection in the window. Just enough to resemble a grin.

Kodiak swallowed, throat dry as rust. It wasn't proof. Not really. But when chasing a ghost, he had to follow every crumb.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was nothing he could do tonight. He'd track down the driver tomorrow morning.

Shutting off the computer, he stood, stretching his back.

Roma was right. Without rest, he'd fail. He needed sleep.

He walked out of the meeting room and down the hallway.

Outside his room, he paused and strained to hear the music through the door.

He recognized Morrisette's song Ironic from Roma's playlist. When upset, Roma played music loudly, drowning out her problems. Tonight, she played it quietly, like a prayer.

An ache in his chest compounded his troubles. He could've lost her. If she hadn't had her smartwatch on, he never would've found her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling Chopper helping from the grave. Inhaling deeply, he entered the room. Tonight, he'd rest with his arms around Roma. Tomorrow, he'd go hunting.