Gorgon
Snow had a sound when it fell over Manitoba—soft, steady, and endless. It wasn’t quiet, exactly—just patient. Like the land knew something that the people who lived on it didn’t.
Behind him, the hum of the clubhouse picked up again as the doors opened, and laughter too loud to be natural filled the air.
The clang of someone dropping a wrench was followed by his cursing.
His guys were settling into their routines after a long day, pretending peace was something they could hold onto. He envied them for it.
Kimi’s words lingered in his head—I guess we don’t get to pretend anymore.
The problem was, he’d been pretending for years now.
He pretended that protecting people didn’t cost him, that losing men didn’t stick to his skin.
Pretending he could walk through this life without caring whether someone stayed or left.
Then Kimi showed up, spinning like a storm right into his heart, and now the pretense was shattered.
He drew in a long breath of cold air that hurt his lungs as he walked towards the shop.
Her silhouette was still visible through the window upstairs.
Even when she wasn’t looking at him, he could feel her watching him.
That connection unnerved him. It wasn’t a weakness exactly, but it still felt too close for comfort.
Buck quickly found him there, his boot steps crunching in the snow, the dull clink of his keys echoing in the quiet.
“She’s got you pacing like a caged wolf, boss.
” Gorgon didn’t answer him because he was right.
Kimi had him all tied up in knots. Smoke curled from his mouth, fading into the frost as Buck seemed to wait him out.
He leaned against the porch rail, rubbing his gloved hands together.
“We’ve got watchers posted north and west. Cole’s crew won’t risk another run tonight—the weather’s turning nasty,” Buck finally said.
He was never good with the silence that Gorgon seemed to crave.
“Good,” Gorgon breathed.
“But that doesn’t mean they’re gone,” Buck went on. “We’ve got something they want, or someone.”
Gorgon’s eyes narrowed at his second in command. “You think I don’t know that?”
Buck gave a humorless chuckle. “I think you know it a little too well. And judging by the circus in that yard earlier, the men know too.” That earned him a look sharp enough to quiet him for a moment.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t keep her safe,” Buck said finally, softer. “Hell, I’d do the same. But whatever’s happening with Kimi—it’s bleeding into the rest of the crew. You mark a woman like that out there, in front of them, and they’re going to start wondering what rules still stand.”
“Let them wonder,” Gorgon said. “I won’t apologize for making her mine.”
“That’s the problem, Prez. Wonder turns into whispers. And whispers turn into orders that people start questioning,” Buck insisted. “I just don’t want the guys questioning your orders, boss.”
Gorgon extinguished his cigarette in the snow, his jaw locking. “You done, Buck?”
“Almost,” Buck said. “Just take care where you walk, yeah? She might be worth the fire, but don’t burn the whole clubhouse down to prove it.
” He left before Gorgon could answer, his footprints disappearing into the dark.
He let Buck go because he had nothing else to say.
Gorgon was tired—the kind of tired that seeped into his bones.
Buck was right—if he stayed with Kimi, the guys might start questioning his authority.
She brought trouble to his club, and they would want to know why they had to be in the middle of his woman’s trouble.
But that was what she had become—his woman, and there was nothing that he could do about that fact, even if he wanted to.
When Gorgon finally made his way upstairs, the lights in Kimi’s room were still on.
The door was cracked, a glint of lamp light slipping through.
He wondered if it was an invitation as he leaned against the doorframe.
He took in the scene for half a breath before he realized he was smiling, and that was something he hadn’t done in a damn long time.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed with one of his shirts on—his old gray one, the one that had a tear near the collar and smelled like cigarette smoke and nights on the road. Her hair was damp. She’d taken a shower without him this time, and somehow, that amused him.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, his voice low.
“I was,” she said, glancing up. “Then I got bored.”
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “That’s how trouble starts around here.”
“You would know,” she teased. He huffed out a laugh and sank onto the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped between them, and the air seemed to shift. Kimi felt distant, and he hated that. “You said you weren’t afraid anymore.”
“I’m not,” Kimi insisted.
“Good,” he said.
She tilted her head. “Are you afraid of me?” she asked. That was a loaded question, because everything about her terrified him.
Gorgon stared at his hands for a long second before answering.
“Every day. But not the way I used to be.” That was as honest as he had ever been with anyone in his entire life.
He wasn’t afraid of being with her anymore, but the fear of losing her now terrified him.
When their eyes met again, there was no teasing left in either of them—only the slow recognition of two people who’d already made a choice they couldn’t undo.
He reached out, fingers brushing a stray lock of her hair off her face. “If Cole comes back, this place becomes a war zone,” he said. “You understand what that means?”
She nodded, “It means I should be gone before that happens.”
He shook his head. “No. It means I’ve got something worth fighting for now. That changes everything.” The words hung in the air between them. They were simple, honest, and dangerous.
Kimi’s breath hitched. “That’s not fair. You make it sound like I asked to be that for you.”
“You didn’t,” he said. “But I’m not asking your permission, either. I’m just giving you the truth.”
She looked at him for a moment, then smiled faintly. “You’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”
“I’ve been called worse,” he teased. Silence settled between them again, tempered by the hum of the heater and the storm outside.
He wanted to pull her into his arms, to let that quiet swallow them both whole, but for the first time in a long time, Gorgon thought about something he’d never considered before—what happened after the storm.
Could a man like him keep someone as gentle as Kimi without breaking her?
He wasn’t sure, but as he stood and she reached for his hand—just lightly, a brush of fingertips—he realized he’d rather risk breaking than ever going back to feeling nothing at all.
He squeezed her hand once, grounding himself in that small, impossible truth.
“Get some sleep, honey,” he murmured. “Tomorrow’s going to come soon enough.”
“And what about you?” she asked.
“I’m on first shift tonight, but I’ll be here before the sun comes up,” he promised. And for the first time in years, it felt like a promise he actually meant.
He turned off the lamp on his way out, leaving her in the silver light of falling snow outside and the faint echo of his words hanging in the dark.
Outside, the storm deepened, folding the sky into itself, but the ache in his chest had burned down into something steadier.
Not a quiet fire, and not the need to protect Kimi, but something that felt almost like peace.