Benny wiped the grease off his hands, the scent of motor oil clinging to his skin. The garage was dimly lit, tools scattered across the workbench. He'd left the Vandals Motorcycle Club behind, but the memories still haunted him—the roar of engines, the taste of rebellion.
Kathy leaned against the doorframe, her eyes tracing the tattoos on his arms. "You're a long way from the club," she said, her voice soft.
He nodded. "Yeah. But this is where I belong now."
She stepped closer, her fingers brushing his cheek. "Benny, we've built something here—a life away from the chaos. Are you sure you won't miss it?"
He thought of Johnny, the former club president who'd handed him the keys to the garage. "Johnny offered me a chance to lead the Vandals," Benny admitted. "But I turned him down. I want a different future."
Kathy's smile was bittersweet. "You've changed, Benny. You're not the same man who rode with the wind in his hair."
He pulled her into his arms, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. "And you're not the same woman who fell for a rebel," he whispered. "But I love this version of you—the one who fights for us."
She traced the scar on his chest, a reminder of a bar brawl long ago. "We've both been through hell," she said. "But we've survived."
Benny kissed her, tasting the promise of forever. "I want to build something real," he murmured. "A business, a family."
Kathy's eyes sparkled. "And what about the motorcycles?"
He glanced at the garage, the bikes waiting for repair. "They'll always be a part of me," he said. "But I choose you, Kathy."
They sealed their pact with a kiss, the taste of motor oil mixing with desire. Benny knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy—the scars of their past still lingered—but he was ready to ride it with her.
