Reaper (Valhalla Rising MC #3)

9. Reaper

9

Reaper

“ W ell, that was… interesting.”

I shove my keys in my pocket and flop onto the couch. We were at the diner for hours, and while we could’ve been there longer, it was clear that Kyra was exhausted. Not only that, but she had to pick up her kids and get them home so they could get a good night’s sleep.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask Viking as he sits next to me.

Ms. Steinbeck procured this old farmhouse for us to use as our home base, and I can’t help but thank Odin that part of her duties in helping us transition is to make sure houses are fully furnished and stocked with food and drink.

“It means that you were so against this assignment, and then you go off and kill a guy over this chick.”

“He had a knife to her throat.”

“Which woulda been a very easy way out of all this for you,” Inferno adds as he sits in the chair across from us.

“I may be a lot of things, but I’m not an idiot,” I snap. “Odin would’ve had my ass if I’d let her die.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes,” Grump says as hands us each a beer.

I chuckle. “Easy on the eyes is an understatement. Kyra’s fucking?—”

“Fuckable,” Demo comments with a smirk.

My unopened beer bottle shatters on the floor after bouncing off Demo’s head. My brothers laugh at me, and I wish I had more bottles to toss.

“Regardless of how she looks,” I begin. “She’s an assignment, nothing more.”

“Yeah,” Viking says. “So was Makayla.”

“Emmy, too,” Inferno states.

“Kyra comes with a bit more baggage than they did,” I remind them, an image of her twins popping into my mind.

“It’s not like you’re unfamiliar with kids,” Acid reminds me.

“Wait a second,” Grump interrupts the conversation. “You had kids?”

The twins' image shifts to one of my Paul and Erica, and anguish twists my gut. “Two,” I admit. “Boy and a girl.”

“How did I not know this?” my newest brother asks.

“Because it’s up to each of us how much we share about our human lives,” Viking explains. “And we definitely don’t share details with prospects. Gotta earn the patch to earn the info.”

“And I have the patch.”

I shake my head. “Paul and Erica are off limits,” I bark. “Forget you even know about them.”

“But th?—”

“No!” I shout, standing and storming out of the room.

I have no clue which bedroom Viking wants to claim, but right now, I don’t give a damn. I enter the first one I come to and slam the door.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my children. But thinking about them now only causes invisible pain, and I can’t afford to let what I can’t see rule my afterlife. I miss Paul and Erica every single day, and I will for all eternity. Nothing is going to change that.

I simply don’t have the luxury of factoring that love in anymore. When I died, they might as well have, too. Pretending that they don’t exist, that they aren’t still out there somewhere, is the only way I can go on.

So, I shoved my memories of them into a tiny box at the back of my brain and locked it up tight as soon as I accepted the reality of my situation after arriving in Valhalla. It was damn near impossible, but I did it.

Fuck, I miss them.

Striding into the attached bathroom, I strip out of my clothes and take a shower. It does little to stem the flow of intrusive thoughts, and I rush through the motions of getting clean. When I’m done, I wrap a towel around my waist and return to the bedroom, only to freeze when I see Viking sitting on the bed.

“Thought you could use your bag,” he says, nodding at my duffel that’s now sitting next to the dresser. “Put some clothes on so I can talk to you.”

I do as instructed, not bothering to return to the bathroom to do it. It’s not like Pres is sitting there staring and besides, I’m not the least bit modest.

“It’s okay to talk about them, ya know?” he says, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“What purpose would that serve?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe it would help you somehow.”

“All talking about them does is remind me of what I don’t have.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s always saying you hated your human life?”

“I did. It fucking sucked. But…”

“But what?”

“It sucked because my bitch of an ex didn’t let me see them like I wanted to. Paul and Erica were the only good things I had.”

“Okay. So why ignore the fact that they exist?”

“It’s not like I can go back to them.”

“True.”

“So, again, what purpose would it serve?”

“Look, I get it. We all have things we’d rather forget. Just seems to me that kids shouldn’t be among them.”

“Viking, I’ll never forget my kids. Not ever. But I can’t afford to think about them all the time. Not if I want to remain sane.”

“That’s assuming you’re sane to begin with.”

I stare at him for a moment and then chuckle. “Good point.”

“Seems to me that Odin’s giving you a second chance here.”

“How so?”

He arches a brow. “Do you really think he doesn’t have a hidden agenda where Kayla’s concerned? I mean, he certainly did when he gave Inferno and I our assignments. ”

“Maybe he does, but I want no part of it. I had a family once. Not looking to do it again.”

“All I’m saying is to stay open to possibilities.”

“Possibilities? We’re fucking dead, Pres,” I bark. “What the fuck kinda possibilities do we really have?”

Viking stands and stalks to the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he says, “That wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order.”

With that, he walks out of the room, leaving me to question his ‘order’ for the first time since becoming a prospect for the Valhalla Rising MC.

And you’re not a prospect anymore, so questioning orders isn’t an option.