Forging Chaos (Forging #3)

24. Odin

CHAPTER 24

ODIN

Turns out, Meech was more than happy to talk to me on a weekend. I texted him about meeting up on Monday morning, but he called me the second my message went through and told me he was en route to my apartment—something about his boss getting in trouble if too many college athletes fail out of school.

I don’t feel ready to make any decisions about the fall semester. It was going to be my final one, and I was probably going to graduate in December with a degree in psychology, even though I never really cared about psychology. It just had classes that fit the best around practice and weight training. Next winter, I was going to head to the pro football combine and enter the draft.

I explain to Meech that I’m fine with having a low C average for the semester. The A I’m looking at in my arguments class is holding everything together. He arranges for me to take an incomplete for a few classes until I can handle the final assignments sometime this summer. I can stay in the apartment—for now.

I don’t have to leave the apartment except for physical therapy. For now .

It feels like a starting place.

I fall asleep Saturday night, wondering what Thora would think of my progress, which means I wake up Sunday confused about why I care what my class research partner thinks. It’s not like she’s reached out since we slept together. She’s leaving the country. We were both just celebrating a job well done.

But I still have her dress.

Gunnar says he’ll take me to the dry cleaner on the way to family dinner today, which feels like a fair trade. I hadn’t planned on going, but my brother reminded me that Aunt Alice does amazing things with sweet potatoes and chicken. She’s used to cooking for elite athletes, and it’s not every day we get to indulge in a delicious feast that meets all of our restrictions.

Not that I have restrictions anymore.

Gunny squeezes his black BMW X5 onto Uncle Tim’s street, lined with other black SUVs, signaling that we’re the last to arrive. I aim my knee roller toward the front door, but Gunny shakes his head. “Aunt Alice said to come in around back this time.”

I shrug and wait for my brother to open the fence, where I can see that the backyard is sliced in half by a new wooden ramp leading up onto the deck. I groan, realizing they must all be talking about me and my condition. I don’t even want to know how this ramp got here, but I guess it’s pretty cool that I can get into a place easily for once.

I roll into the kitchen through the sliding door and see Dad, Uncle Tim, Uncle Thatcher, and Uncle Hawk deep in conversation over a map of the neighborhood. They look like they’ve just gotten back from a run, all sweaty in matching Pittsburgh Forge shirts courtesy of Uncle Hawk .

Not going to lie; it’s pretty cool that they are all still out there being active, even if they bitch and moan about their creaking joints. Dad has them all doing “yoga for mid-life,” and there’s talk of them hiring a private instructor for all the Stag men and their wives.

Gunnar scoops Aunt Alice up from behind and kisses her cheek as she swats at him. “Gunnar Stag, I’ve told you to stop lifting me in the air.”

He steals a cube of chicken from the pan she’s stirring on the stove. “But you’re pocket-sized, Aunt Alice. I can’t help it.”

She swats him with her spoon. “And tell your brothers to stop picking at the potatoes. I set out nuts and pickles for appetizers.”

My twin brothers, Alder and Tucker, holler from another room that they have finished the nuts. Then, some more of my cousins start cracking jokes about nuts and pickles until my mother whistles and tells them all to stop being buttheads.

I do love my family. This whole crew is loud, crass, and ridiculous, but everyone is on the same side, and that’s the Stag side. I think back to when my cousin Wes’s girlfriend ran into trouble with some creep from Soccer USA. The family all jumped in to make sure she and Wes had what they needed to sue that fucker and keep him away from athletes forever. It was the same when my cousin Wyatt had issues with his creepy bio dad.

Speaking of Wyatt, who is currently in London with his new pro soccer team, I’m a little surprised to see his girlfriend, Fern, here at Stag family dinner. I grab a cup of water and roll towards her, where she’s deep in concentration with Aunt Lucy. “Hey,” I say, scratching my chin. “Wasn’t expecting you today.”

Aunt Lucy shakes a finger at me. “Excuse me, sir, that is no way to talk to Fern. Of course, she’s at family dinner. She’s family now.” Lucy squeezes Fern in a side hug, which Fern seems to find delightful.

Fern smiles up at me. “Hey, thank you again for the tickets to the book event the other day. It was awesome.” And then she makes a face that tells me she knows exactly what happened afterward between Thora and me.

I clear my throat. “I’m glad you guys had fun.”

Aunt Lucy furrows her brow. “Book event?” She locates my Aunt Emma across the room and hollers, “Emma Stag, have you been having literary festivities without us again?” The crowd goes silent while everyone tries to decide if they should be pissed off that my aunt would dare do any publicity without including twenty-plus members of the family.

Aunt Alice cuts the tension by announcing that dinner is served, and everyone forgets any potential slight in the rush for first dibs at the meal. I roll to my place between my brothers and shove my knee scooter out of the way once I’m seated.

Since Wyatt’s abroad, Fern takes his usual chair across from me, and I ask her if she’s ready for graduation next weekend.

Fern sighs dreamily. “Is it cheesy if I say I was born ready? Obviously, it’s been a lot of work to get here, but I keep pinching myself because it’s finally happening.”

She forks a bite of food, and Aunt Lucy tips a ton of wine into Fern’s glass, but Fern’s smile fades a bit. I frown and ask, “What’s with the face? Something wrong?”

She waves a hand. “Oh, no, Lucy pouring my drink reminded me that Thora’s at work today.”

The sound of her name sends my heart racing a little faster, and blood rushes to my groin. The other night was definitely not a “get it out of my system” situation. Or my system still has a lot more Thora Janssen in it. I clear my throat. “Isn’t she always at work? ”

Fern bites her lip and leans closer, voice low. “She’s really doubling up, though. Ugh, she’d kill me for telling you this, but she had to give her airfare money to her mom for the rent so that Mrs. Janssen could be there for commencement next week.”

I pause, letting that sentence sink in fully. “You’re saying Thora is paying her family’s rent?”

Fern nods. “They had some unexpected expenses. Thora’s really upset. Ugh, don’t tell her I told you.” She sighs. “She’s so close, Odin. It’s hard to see the finish line getting bumped further away.”

I nod, eating quietly while my mind races. I look around the table and glance out the back window at the row of six-figure cars that could finance Thora’s life a million times over. Hell, last month’s royalty check from the video game with my avatar could buy Thora upgraded airfare. Now she’s working double shifts to pay her family’s rent?

After lunch, I find my Uncle Tim in the kitchen rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher, muttering to himself about noisy, nosy siblings. “Hey, Unc. Can I ask you something?”

He turns, looking delighted to be asked for advice rather than help scraping food from plates. “Sure thing, Odin. How’s the leg feeling?”

“Meh. Pretty numb still.” I tap on the cast. “It’s not about that, though. I was wondering…how you’d go about giving money to someone who doesn’t want to take money.”

He smiles. “This is an excellent question. What sort of money are we talking?”

I throw one hand in the air. “Hardly any. Like a thousand bucks. Maybe two if I can finagle it.”

He nods and squints over my shoulder toward his youngest brother. “Your Uncle Hawk has a foundation…wo uld the…recipient perhaps be a woman in need of legal support?”

I purse my lips, considering. “She’s trying to get to Oxford to study international family law policies. I want to pay for her airfare. I don’t want to take money from Uncle Hawk’s foundation.”

Uncle Tim grins and rests a hand on my shoulder. “Ah, but we could funnel your gifted money through the foundation…we just need to convince her to accept it, right?” I nod. “Let’s create a surprise micro grant program she can be selected for!”

I shake my head. “That sounds too easy.”

He asks me what sorts of things the “recipient” is involved with at school, and I draw a blank until I stare at Fern and remember something Thora did a few months ago to help Wyatt. “She volunteers at the student law clinic on campus and helps people get free legal aid,” I say. “She knows Mom from her guest lectures there.”

Uncle Tim rubs his palms together. “Sounds like she’s about to be chosen for a distinguished service award, doesn’t it?”

He tells me to give him a few days to sort out the particulars and to create a way to hide my donation. I feel energized and excited for something, and I honestly never thought I’d feel this way again. It’s like I won a game, and the game is getting Thora what she wants and needs. None of it makes any sense, but damn if it doesn’t motivate me to be more of a human and less of a couch cushion.