Manic (Raiders of Valhalla MC: New Blood #1)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Meghan

My blood boils as I slam the door to the clubhouse kitchen, the bang echoing through the room.

Tor's abrupt exit replays in my mind, adding to how frustrated I am.

How could he just walk out like that?

We were in the middle of a conversation, for fuck's sake.

I lean against the counter, gripping the edge until my knuckles turn white.

The smell of garlic and onions sizzling in a pan wafts through the air, but even the promise of a delicious meal can't soothe my irritation.

"Meghan?" Aziza's soft voice breaks through my angry haze. "Are you okay?"

I turn to face her, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... irritated."

Aziza's dark eyes study me, concern etched across her features. "What happened? I wasn’t really paying too much attention."

I sigh, running a hand through my ashy blonde waves. "Tor and I were talking, and then he just... left. Walked out before we could finish our conversation."

"Oh," Aziza says, her brow furrowing. "God, men are fucking stupid."

"Hell yeah, they are," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. The action pulls at my still-healing wounds, and I wince slightly.

Aziza notices and steps closer, her hand hovering near my arm. "Are you in pain? Do you need anything?"

I shake my head, forcing myself to relax. "No, I'm fine. Just sore." I pause, then add, "And pissed off."

Aziza nods sympathetically. "I can imagine. Do you want to talk about it?"

For a moment, I consider brushing her off.

But the genuine concern in her eyes makes me reconsider. "I just... I don't understand why he'd do that. We were in the middle of something important."

"Men can be... difficult sometimes," Aziza offers, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Especially if they’re frustrated with something too.”

I snort, the sound lacking any real humor. "That's putting it mildly."

Aziza moves to the stove, stirring the contents of the pan.

The aroma intensifies, reminding me that I should probably eat something.

But the knot in my stomach makes the thought of food unappealing.

"What were you talking about?" Aziza asks, her voice gentle.

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. "He found out Starla knew about Tindra," I swallow hard, the weight of my words settling on my chest. "So it bothered him because she knew before he did."

Aziza nods, her expression understanding. "That's a lot to process. Maybe Tor needed some time to think?"

"Yeah, that’s what he fucking said," I snap, then immediately regret my tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay," Aziza assures me. "You're allowed to be upset."

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. "I just... I thought we were making progress, you know? And then he goes and pulls this shit."

Aziza turns off the stove and faces me fully. "Meghan, can I ask you something?"

I nod, bracing myself for whatever's coming.

"Do you love him?"

The question hits me like a punch to the gut.

Do I love Tor?

"Yes, I always have," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Everything between us is just so complicated.”

Aziza's expression softens. "Love often is. Especially in this life. He loves you too. Anyone can see it."

I scoff, the bitterness rising in my throat. "Yeah, he's got a funny way of showing it sometimes."

Aziza reaches out, her hand gently squeezing my arm. "Men in this life, in the club... they don't always know how to express themselves. Especially when it comes to emotions."

"That's no excuse," I argue, but there's less heat in my words now.

"No, it's not," Aziza agrees. "But it might help explain why he left like that."

I sigh, leaning back against the counter. "Maybe. I just... I hate feeling like this. Uncertain. Off-balance."

"It's natural to feel that way," Aziza assures me. "Especially after everything you've been through."

Her words bring a fresh wave of memories crashing over me.

My coma, being next to my bedside all of those years ago.

Through it all, Tor's unwavering presence.

His strength when I felt weak, his warmth when I was cold with fear.

"He was there for me," I whisper, more to myself than to Aziza. "Through all of it. He never left my side."

Aziza smiles softly. "That says a lot, don't you think?"

I nod, feeling some of the anger drain away, replaced by a confusing mix of emotions I can't quite name. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"So maybe," Aziza suggests gently, "this is just a bump in the road and everything will be fine soon enough."

I push off from the counter, restless energy coursing through me. "I just wish he'd talked to me instead of walking away. We're supposed to be partners, aren't we? Equals?"

Aziza tilts her head, considering. "In an ideal world, yes. But... life is complicated."

"Don't I know it," I mutter, pacing the length of the kitchen. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. All this drama, all this uncertainty."

"Is Tor worth it?" Aziza asks, her question stopping me in my tracks.

I turn to face her, my heart pounding in my chest. "I... I don't know. Maybe. Probably." I run a hand over my face, feeling suddenly exhausted. "God, when did my life get so complicated?"

Aziza laughs softly. "I think that's a question we all ask ourselves at some point."

I join in her laughter, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. "Yeah, I guess so."

We fall into silence, the only sound the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant voices from the main room of the clubhouse.

I close my eyes, trying to sort through the jumble of emotions swirling inside me.

"You know," Aziza says after a moment, "it's okay to be angry with him. To be hurt. But don't let those feelings blind you to everything else."

I open my eyes, meeting her gaze. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she explains, "don't forget all the good moments because of one bad one. Don't throw away something potentially amazing because of one mistake."

Her words hit home, reminding me of all the times Tor has been there for me.

The way he held me in the hospital, his strong arms a shelter from the storm.

The gentle way he tends to my wounds, his touch so careful and meticulous.

The look in his eyes when he thinks I'm not watching, a mixture of awe and affection that makes my heart skip a beat.

"You're right," I admit, my voice soft. "I know you're right. It's just..."

"Scary?" Aziza offers.

I nod, swallowing hard. "Terrifying, actually."

Aziza steps closer, her presence comforting. "Love often is. But that's what makes it worth fighting for."

I take a deep breath, letting her words sink in. "So what do I do now?"

"That's up to you," Aziza says with a small shrug. "But if I were you, I'd give him a chance to explain. To make things right."

I nod slowly, considering her advice. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, my heart leaping when I see Tor's name on the screen.

"Is it him?" Aziza asks, noticing my reaction.

I nod, showing her the screen. "Yeah, it's Tor."

Aziza gives me an encouraging smile. "Well, speak of the devil. Looks like he's ready to talk."

I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the message.

Part of me wants to ignore it, to let him stew in his own juices for a while.

But Aziza's words echo in my mind, reminding me that relationships take work, compromise, and sometimes, forgiveness.

"You know," Aziza says, leaning against the counter, "Aesir has walked out on me like that a few times. It happens sometimes."

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. "Really? And you're okay with that?"

She shrugs, her dark eyes full of understanding. "Not always in the moment, no. But I've learned that men can't always handle things the way we do. Sometimes they need a break, and they need it right then and there."

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "That's stupid."

"Preach, sister," Starla chimes in from where she's chopping vegetables. "My old man Ivar does the same shit. Drives me up the wall."

I shake my head, frustration bubbling up again. "I thought maybe it was Tor's age showing, you know? Since I'm a couple years older than him."

Aziza laughs a warm, rich sound. "Oh honey, trust me, it's not an age thing. It's a man thing."

"Great," I mutter, "so I have this to look forward to forever?"

Starla grins, pointing her knife at me. "Welcome to the club, sweetheart. Our men drive us wild, and not always in the good way."

I can't help but chuckle at that, "So what's your secret? How do you deal with it?"

"Patience," Aziza says, her voice gentle. "And remembering that they're not doing it to hurt us. They're just...processing things differently."

I nod, considering her words.

My phone buzzes again.

It has to be another message from Tor.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

"All right," I say, more to myself than the others. "I guess I better see what he has to say."

My phone buzzes again, but it's not Tor.

I glance down to see Dasha's name on the screen.

Frowning, I open the message.

Hey boss, you really coming in tomorrow?

I roll my eyes, thumbs flying over the keyboard.

Yes, I am. Why wouldn't I?

The response is almost immediate.

Just checking. You've been through a lot. Want more time off?

A surge of irritation courses through me.

I get that she means well, but I've had enough of being treated like I'm made of glass.

I've had more than enough time off, so, don't you dare!

I fire back, adding a winking emoji to soften the blow.

Aziza notices my expression. "Everything okay?"

I nod, pocketing my phone. "Yeah, just one of the girls at Beans & Babes. She thinks I need more time off."

"And you don't?" Starla asks, arching an eyebrow.

I shake my head. "God, no. I need to get back to normal. I need..." I trail off, searching for the right words.

"Distraction?" Aziza offers softly.

"Exactly," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Working keeps me focused, gives me purpose. Tor doesn't get it, but it's like... it's like his bike, you know? Taking that away from him would be unthinkable."

Starla nods, understanding in her eyes. "Men and their bikes, I swear. Sometimes I think Ivar loves that Harley more than me."

I laugh, but inside, my mind is racing.

The thought of stepping back into Beans & Babes, surrounded by the comforting scent of coffee and the familiar buzz of customers, makes my heart ache with longing.

It's my sanctuary, my piece of normalcy in this chaotic world I've found myself in.

"I just need to feel like myself again," I admit quietly. "Is that so wrong?"

Aziza reaches out, squeezing my hand. "Not at all, honey. We all cope in our own ways. If work helps you, then that's what you need to do."

I squeeze back, grateful for her understanding.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

I need the routine, the familiarity.

I need to prove to myself that I'm still me, still strong, still capable.

As we continue preparing dinner, I can't help but wonder if Tor will understand.

Will he see that this is my way of healing, of moving forward?

Or will it be another source of conflict between us?

I push the thought aside.

Right now, I need to focus on getting through this evening.

Tomorrow, I'll face whatever comes.

One step at a time, that's how I'll make it through this new life I've chosen.

The savory aroma of our homemade chili fills the air as I slide the dish onto the counter.

My stomach growls, reminding me it's been hours since I last ate.

I glance at my phone for what feels like the hundredth time, my heart sinking when I see my latest message isn't from Tor.

I still need to read his messages, ugh.

"All right, ladies and gents! Dinner's ready!" I call out, my voice echoing through the clubhouse.

As if on cue, Runes appears beside me, his weathered hand landing gently on my shoulder. "Smells amazing, sweetie," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "He's out on a run, you know. He'll be back and can warm up some dinner, promise."

I swallow hard, trying to keep the worry from my voice. "Any idea how long he'll be?"

Runes shrugs, his expression turning serious. "Depends on how things go. You know how it is."

I nod, but internally, my mind races.

Is Tor in danger?

What kind of "run" is this?

The possibilities swirl in my head, each one more terrifying than the last.

"Well," Runes continues, breaking into my spiraling thoughts, "I'm gonna grab a plate before the vultures descend. This smells too good to miss out on."

As he moves away, I force myself to take a deep breath.

Worrying won't bring Tor back any faster.

I reach for a plate, trying to focus on the here and now.

Suddenly, I feel a pair of arms wrap around me from behind.

"Mom!" Tindra's voice rings out, full of enthusiasm. "This looks awesome!"

I turn, returning her hug. "Hey, sweetie. Having fun with Rev and Dalla?"

Tindra's face lights up. "Oh my god, yes! They're so cool. It's like hanging out with friends, not aunts, you know?"

I can't help but smile at her excitement. "That's great, hon. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

As Tindra chatters on about her day and "The Hobbit", I feel some of the tension leave my body.

At least one of us is adapting well to this new life.

But in the back of my mind, Tor's absence still nags at me, a constant reminder of the dangers that come with this world we've chosen.

I nod, understanding exactly what Tindra means. "That's totally normal, sweetheart. They're not much older than you, after all. It's like having built-in friends in the family."

Tindra grins, piling food onto her plate. "Yeah, it's pretty awesome."

I hesitate for a moment, then ask, "So, are you looking forward to starting school in a couple of weeks?"

Her smile falters slightly, and she shrugs her shoulders. "I mean, yeah, I'm excited, but..." She bites her lip, a habit she's had since she was little. "I'm kinda nervous too."

I reach out, squeezing her arm gently. "Hey, that's okay. It's normal to be a little nervous about a new school."

Tindra looks up at me, her eyes wide and searching. "Really?"

"Absolutely," I assure her, my voice softening. "But you know what? You won't be the odd one out. There are other club kids who go to the same school. You'll fit right in, I promise."

Tindra nods slowly, seeming to mull this over. "I guess you're right," she says finally, a small smile returning to her face.

We move to a quieter corner of the room, plates in hand.

As we look for a spot to sit, I can't help but marvel at how well Tindra's handling everything.

The club, the move, the upcoming school change—it's a lot for anyone, let alone a teenager.

"You know," I start, my chest swelling with pride, "I'm really proud of you, Tindra. You've adapted so well to all of this."

Her cheeks flush slightly at the praise. "Thanks, Mom. I'm just... I'm so happy we're here, you know? That we're with our family now."

The warmth in my chest grows, but then I notice Tindra's expression shift.

She swallows hard, her fork pausing halfway to her mouth. "Mom?" she says, her voice suddenly small.

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"I don't... I don't want anything to happen like last week. Not ever again." Her words come out in a rush, laced with fear.

My heart clenches.

I want to promise her it won't, that we're safe now, but I know better than to make promises I can't keep.

Instead, I reach out to her, taking her hand in mine.

"I know, baby. I know."

I take a deep breath, squeezing Tindra's hand gently. "Honey, in this life... there are always risks. Your grandfather popping up like that, it's just another one of those risks we have to face."

Tindra's brow furrows, her eyes searching mine. "But why, Mom? Why would he want to do something like that?"

I feel a familiar ache in my chest, wishing I could shield her from these harsh truths. But she deserves honesty. "Some people in this world are just cruel, sweetheart. They don't need a reason."

As the words leave my mouth, I hear the clatter of a plate hitting the floor.

I look up to see Lexi standing there, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she turns to face us.

Tindra's plate lies at her feet, food scattered across the floor.

"What the hell, Lexi?" I snap, rising from my seat. "Apologize to Tindra. Now."

Lexi's brown eyes gleam with amusement, her perfectly styled blonde hair swaying as she shakes her head. "Maybe your kid needs to watch where the fuck she's going," she sneers.

I feel my blood begin to boil, my protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

Lexi's been a thorn in my side since I’ve been back, but going after my daughter?

That's crossing a line.

"Apologize," I growl, stepping closer to her. "Or I swear to God, Lexi..."

My fists clench at my sides, and I'm aware of Tindra's eyes on me.

Part of me wants to show her how to stand up for herself, but another part knows I need to set a better example than resorting to violence.

Lexi's smirk only grows wider, clearly relishing the tension she's created. "Or what, Meghan? You gonna run to your ol’ man? Oh wait, he up and left, didn't he?"

I feel my patience wavering, the urge to wipe that smug look off her face growing stronger by the second.

But I force myself to take a deep breath, reminding myself that Tindra's watching, that I need to be the adult here.

"Just apologize and walk away, Lexi," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "Before this gets ugly."

I take another step toward Lexi, closing the distance between us.

The clubhouse suddenly feels too small, too crowded.

The scent of her overpowering perfume mixed with leather fills my nostrils, and I fight the urge to gag.

"Say something else that's stupid," I hiss, my eyes locked on hers. "Trust me, I'm itching for a reason to use your ass to mop the floor."

Lexi's smirk falters for a split second, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face.

But she quickly recovers, squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin up defiantly.

The air crackles with tension.

I can feel the eyes of everyone in the clubhouse on us, waiting to see what happens next.

And God, I hope she fucks up.