Chrome and Candles

"Wasn't it?" Her voice was sharp, brittle. "You vanished. No word. No explanation. Just gone."

"I was trying to protect you." The excuse sounded hollow, even to my own ears. "The club life... it's dangerous. I didn't want you dragged into that darkness."

"So you decided for me." Rosalie crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tight. "Without even asking what I wanted."

"I was young. Stupid." I raked a hand through my hair, wincing as the movement pulled at my stitches. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"The right thing?" She let out a short, harsh laugh. "Breaking my heart was the right thing?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I sank back onto the table, my ribs screaming in protest. "I didn't know what else to do. The club was my family. I couldn't turn my back on them."

"And what about me?" Her voice cracked. "Wasn't I your family too?"

"Yes." The word was raw, ragged. "Always."

She turned away, blinking hard. "It doesn't matter now. What's done is done."

"It matters to me." I caught her hand, held it tight. "You matter to me."

She wouldn't look at me. Her fingers trembled in mine. "You should go. Your club needs you."

"I'm not leaving." I tugged her closer, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Not this time."

Her eyes glistened with uncried tears. "Rocco, please. Don't make this harder than it already is."

"Harder than what? Than admitting we still have something? That this-" I gestured between us "-is real?"

She didn't answer. Didn't need to. The truth was written in the flush of her cheeks, the quick rise and fall of her chest. In the way her fingers tightened around mine, holding on like I was a lifeline.

I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her waist. She came willingly, her head resting against my chest. I buried my face in her hair, breathing deep. Vanilla and citrus and home.

"I'm sorry," I murmured against her temple. "For everything. For leaving. For hurting you. For being a damn fool."

She nodded, her hair tickling my chin. "I know."

We stayed like that for a long moment, just holding each other. A decade of silence pressed down on us, heavy and suffocating. But beneath it, something else stirred. Something warm and familiar and undeniable.

Rosalie pulled back first, swiping at her eyes. "We should get you patched up. Your ribs need wrapping."

"Later." I caught her face in my hands, tilted her chin up. "First, we talk. Really talk."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."

I brushed a kiss over her forehead, then reached for my cut. The worn leather felt heavy in my hands, weighted down with memories and regrets. I fumbled in the inner pocket, searching for my smokes. My fingers brushed against something else. Something small and stiff and forgotten.

I pulled it out, my heart stuttering in my chest. A folded piece of paper, the edges worn soft with age. I recognized it instantly. Rosalie's handwriting, neat and precise, the ink faded but still legible.

She gasped. "You kept it?"

"Always." I unfolded the note, my throat constricted. The words were as familiar as my own heartbeat.

Rocco,

I know you think you're doing the right thing by pushing me away. That the club is too dangerous, that you're protecting me. But you're wrong. I don't need protecting. I need you. I'll always need you.

Whatever happens, whatever you decide, know that I love you. I'll never stop.

Forever yours,

Rosa

I looked up, met her gaze. Her eyes were wide, shocked. "You kept it," she whispered. "All these years."

"Of course I did." I set the note on the table between us. "It was all I had left of you."

She reached out, traced a finger over her signature. "I meant every word. Then and now."

"Rosa-" My voice broke on her name.

She stopped me with a finger to my lips. "Don't. Not yet." She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders. "First, we fix those ribs. Then... then we talk about what comes next."

I nodded, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged thing. She picked up the bandage, her touch gentle as she wrapped it around my torso. The pain was a distant thing, eclipsed by the warmth of her hands on my skin, the promise in her eyes.

We had a lot to figure out. A lot to forgive. But for the first time in ten years, I felt like I was finally where I belonged.

In her arms. In her heart. In the small, lamplit space above the auto shop, where the ghosts of the past could finally be laid to rest.

The shrill ring of my phone cut through the heavy silence between us. Rosalie’s hands stilled on the bandage, her eyes meeting mine. We both knew who it would be before she even answered.

She crossed to the counter, her movements stiff. “Hello?” Her voice was steady, professional, but I saw the tension in her shoulders. She listened, her expression tightening with each passing second. “When? How many?” A pause. “I understand. I’ll be ready.”

She hung up, her back still to me. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. I didn’t need to ask. I knew.

“That was your president.” She turned to face me, her eyes guarded. “The Desert Snakes are moving in. They need every patch at the clubhouse. Now.”

My gut clenched. The club. My brothers. My loyalty. The words I’d spoken just moments ago echoed in my head. “My loyalty is to you. It always has been.”

Rosalie picked up the bandage, her movements brisk, efficient. “Let’s get you wrapped up. You’ve got a war to get to.”

I caught her wrist again, my grip gentle but firm. “Rosa. Wait.”

She froze, her eyes searching mine. Waiting.

I took a breath. Let it out slow. “I’m not going.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Rocco, you have to. Your club needs you.”

“No.” The word felt right. Solid. “I’m done. With all of it.”

“You can’t just walk away. They’ll come for you. For me.”

“Let them.” I stood, ignoring the fire in my ribs. “I’m not leaving you again. Not this time.”

“Rocco, be reasonable. This is your life. Your family.”

“You’re my family.” I cupped her face in my hands. Her skin was warm, soft. “You always were.”

“Rocco—” Her voice cracked.

I kissed her. Hard. Poured ten years of longing into that kiss. Her lips parted beneath mine. She tasted like peppermint and tears. She kissed me back, her fingers fisting in my hair, pulling me closer. The world narrowed to the heat of her mouth, the press of her body against mine. To the promise of a second chance, born in blood and neon and the dust of a Nevada roadside motel.

The kiss ended too soon. Rosalie pulled back, her breath coming in short gasps. Her eyes searched mine, dark pools of confusion and want. “Rocco, this is crazy. You can’t just walk away from the club.”

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing over her lower lip. “Watch me.”

“But your brothers. Your loyalty.”

“My loyalty is to you.” I meant every word. “It always has been.”

She shook her head, stepping back. “No. You left. You chose them over me.”

The words lingered between us, thick with the ghosts of our past. I let my hands fall to my sides. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Wasn’t it?” Her voice was sharp, brittle. “You vanished. No word. No explanation. Just gone.”

“I was trying to protect you.” The excuse sounded hollow, even to my own ears. “The club life... it’s dangerous. I didn’t want you dragged into that darkness.”

“So you decided for me.” Rosalie crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tight. “Without even asking what I wanted.”

“I was young. Stupid.” I raked a hand through my hair, wincing as the movement pulled at my stitches. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” She let out a short, harsh laugh. “Breaking my heart was the right thing?”

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I sank back onto the table, my ribs screaming in protest. “I didn’t know what else to do. The club was my family. I couldn’t turn my back on them.”

“And what about me?” Her voice cracked. “Wasn’t I your family too?”

“Yes.” The word was raw, ragged. “Always.”

She turned away, blinking hard. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.”

“It matters to me.” I caught her hand, held it tight. “You matter to me.”

She wouldn’t look at me. Her fingers trembled in mine. “You should go. Your club needs you.”

“I’m not leaving.” I tugged her closer, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Not this time.”

Her eyes glistened with uncried tears. “Rocco, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”