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“We’re meant to be together, no matter where life takes us.”
Lore raises up on one arm. “Dirt—”
I hold a finger to her lips. “What if I take a leave of absence? Say, three months? Lore, I’ve been in so long, I don’t know if I can even function outside the MC, but for you, I’d be willing to try.” The words tumble from my lips in a hurried declaration.
“You’d do that for me?”
“Yes. If you’ll have me?”
Lore kisses me. “Will Dane do that for you?”
“No fucking idea. It’ll go to a vote.”
“Six months.”
I frown. “What?”
“Three isn’t long enough, but six? Six will test us. Hell, it’s been a long time since I’ve shared my life with anyone. You were the last.”
“Me too,” I confess. “Okay, six months.”
“Don’t fuck with me on this, Dirt. My heart has had enough scares these past weeks. I’m not sure I could handle another.”
Chuckling, I cup her face. “There’s my spitfire. I’ll ask. Can’t promise you anything right now, but I’ll ask.”
“And if he says no?”
A million thoughts race through my mind.
Would I leave the MC?
Could we make a long-distance relationship work?
Would Lore still want me if I’m in the MC?
Smiling at her, I say, “Let’s cross that bridge if and when we come to it.”
***
Leaving the MC—it feels like cutting off a limb, and yet there’s no denying the magnetic pull I feel toward Lore. Her eyes are imprinted on my mind, haunting me both day and night.
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, running a hand through my hair. My loyalty to the Savage Angels MC has never wavered before, but now something inside me urges me to take the leap, to risk everything for her. Just the thought of Lore’s warm embrace makes my heart race, and I know he can’t ignore it any longer.
With a duffle bag slung over my shoulder, I take a last look around my home. Closing the door to my home, I exhale slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. I know what I need to do—confront Dane, my president, my friend, and tell him I’m leaving the MC for Lore. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, but there is no turning back now.
The ride to the compound takes me less than twenty minutes. I’ve lived in Tourmaline for the greater part of my life. I have friends, a home, and the MC here. Leaving it feels wrong, but I know Lore couldn’t live here with me.
Climbing off my bike, I stride into the clubhouse. The weight of the countless memories hang on these walls—photographs of brothers long gone, trophies from races won, and various mementos from wild nights out.
“Hey, brother,” Rebel calls out as I enter the main room.
I nod at him, my mind too occupied with the task at hand to engage in conversation. The familiar sights and sounds envelop me as I walk through the room—the clatter of billiard balls colliding, the smell of cheap whiskey and stale cigarette smoke, and the low rumble of laughter shared between lifelong friends.
“Shit’s about to change,” I mutter under my breath.
Scanning the room, I search for Dane.
“If you’re looking for Dane, he’s over in the garage office.”
