Page 41 of Salvation

Whatever came next -- the continued healing from their ordeal, telling Clover about the change in our relationship, facing the world as a true couple -- we would handle it together. No more holding back. No more pretending. Just us, finally whole after years of waiting.

Chapter Eleven

Salvation

I woke to an empty bed, my hand instinctively reaching for Yulia before my eyes even opened. The sheets beside me were still warm, her scent lingering on the pillow. For one disorienting moment, panic flared in my chest -- the same blind terror I’d felt when she and Clover had disappeared from the fairgrounds. Then reality settled back in. We were home. They were safe. And after eleven years of marriage on paper, Yulia and I had finally crossed the line we’d danced around for so long.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair as I listened for sounds in the house. The shower wasn’t running. No clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Just the familiar ambient noise of the compound filtering through the windows -- distant voices, motorcycles rumbling to life, the rhythmic clang of weights from the club gym.

A folded piece of paper on Yulia’s pillow caught my eye. I reached for it, recognizing Hawk’s messy scrawl immediately.

Salvation -- Hayley’s got Clover for the day. Teaching her to bake or some shit. Take your woman somewhere nice. Bikes are gassed up. Don’t fuck this up. -- H

A postscript in different handwriting -- Hayley’s, I assumed -- added: The blue helmet in the garage is Yulia’s size. You’re welcome.

Then one more, this one from my daughter: Take her somewhere nice and don’t worry about me. She’s having breakfast with Ranger and Danica.

I stared at the note, a slow smile spreading across my face. Hawk and Hayley, playing matchmaker. As if Yulia and I needed the push after last night. Still, the thought of a day with just the two of us, away from the compound, away from reminders of what we’d just been through… my chest tightened with something that felt like anticipation mixed with anxiety.

Our first real date. Eleven years into our marriage.

I showered quickly and dressed in my usual jeans and black T-shirt, before shrugging into my cut. The compound was alive with morning activity as I made my way to the garage. The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen and I paused to pour a cup, taking a sip as I stared out the small window over the sink. Everything normal. Everything as it should be.

Except nothing was normal anymore. Not since I’d finally told Yulia the truth. Not since she’d said she loved me too.

The thought sent a jolt through me that was equal parts terror and exhilaration. I’d faced down rival clubs without flinching, had killed men who threatened what was mine, but this -- this fragile, newborn thing between Yulia and me -- terrified me in ways I couldn’t articulate. I drained the cup and placed it in the sink.

The garage was cool and dim compared to the brightness outside. My bike waited in its usual spot, the sleek black Harley a familiar comfort. Beside it stood Yulia’s bike -- an older model I’d taught her to ride years ago, but that she rarely used. I ran my hands over both machines, checking them with the methodical precision that came from years of riding.

Oil levels. Tire pressure. Brakes. Chain tension. I lost myself in the familiar routine, the smell of grease and metal grounding me in the present moment.

“Good morning.”

Her voice from the doorway of the open garage sent a ripple down my spine. I straightened, wiping my hands on a shop rag as I turned to face her.

Yulia stood framed in the entrance, backlit by morning sun. She wore black riding jeans that hugged her curves and a leather jacket I’d never seen before -- fitted, feminine, but unmistakably protective. I noticed something else about it… the Reckless Kings colors on the front in a small patch. It made me wonder where she’d gotten it, since I hadn’t seen one like it before.

“Morning,” I managed, suddenly unsure what to do with my hands. Before last night, I would have nodded, kept my distance. Now? Everything was different, the rules rewritten.

She solved the problem by crossing to me, rising on tiptoes to press a kiss to my jaw. “Hawk and Hayley sent me to Ranger’s house for breakfast, so I figured they had something planned. Danica gave this jacket to me, as a gift from the club.”

“They’re not exactly subtle, but I can’t say I dislike their plan of setting us up on a date,” I said, allowing my hand to settle at her waist, still marveling that I could touch her like this now. “How are your ribs?”

“Better. Still sore, but the wrapping helps.” She glanced at the bikes. “Are we going somewhere?”

I nodded, my thumb tracing small circles against her leather-clad hip. “I thought we could. If you’re up for it.” I hesitated, suddenly feeling like a teenager with his first crush instead of a grown man with his wife. “I thought we could ride through the hills, maybe stop somewhere special.”

Her smile widened, the slight reserve in her expression melting away. “I’d like that.”

I reached past her for the blue helmet hanging on the wall -- the one Hayley had somehow procured in Yulia’s size. The one I’d bought for her previously had vanished at some point. “Try this on.”

She took it, turning it in her hands before slipping it over her head. It fit perfectly, framing her face in a way that emphasized her high cheekbones and blue eyes. Even with most of her features hidden, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“How do I look?” she asked, her voice muffled slightly by the helmet.

“Perfect,” I said simply.

A faint blush colored her cheeks as she removed the helmet. “It’s been a while since I’ve ridden. You might need to go slow.”

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