Chapter 17 #2
I kiss him, hard, desperate, pouring every fear, every hope, every prayer into it.
When I pull back, we're both breathing heavily, both clinging to each other like the world might end if we let go.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I love you too. More than anything. More than my own life."
"Come back to me."
"Always."
The afternoon passes in a blur.
Preparations continue.
The men gear up and the women gather.
It happens naturally, instinctively.
Ol’ ladies drawing together for support, for comfort, for the solidarity that comes from shared fear.
Mom, Astrid, Magnolia, Vail, Fern, Gwen, Everly, Skadi, Starla, Esperanza, Aziza, Rayna, Meghan, Saga, Dasha, Elfe, and me.
All of us in the main room, trying to distract ourselves from the dread.
"Remember the run of '09?" Fern says. "When they went after those dealers in Jacksonville?"
"God, that was terrifying," Charm murmurs. "They were gone for eighteen hours. No word, no updates, no way to know if they were alive or dead. I thought I was going to lose my mind."
"But they came back," Magnolia adds. "They always come back."
"Not always," Vail says quietly.
Silence falls.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
We all know what she means.
We've all seen the ones who didn't come back.
The funerals.
The widows.
The empty chairs at club gatherings.
The holes that never quite heal.
"They'll come back tonight," Astrid says firmly. "All of them. They're too stubborn to do anything else."
It breaks the tension.
A few weak laughs.
Nervous, but genuine.
Then Vail turns to me. "How are you holding up, sweetheart?"
"Barely," I admit. "I keep thinking about last time. When he came back stabbed. When I almost lost him before I ever really had him."
"That fear never fully goes away," Vail says. "I've been Vanir's ol’ lady for almost thirty years. Thirty years of watching him ride out, thirty years of waiting for him to come home. I still get knots in my stomach every time he leaves on something dangerous."
"How do you cope?"
"I keep busy. I stay close to the other women. And I trust—trust him, trust his brothers, trust that he knows what he's doing." She takes my hand, her grip warm and strong. "Gunnar is smart. He's capable. And he has the best reason in the world to come home."
"What's that?"
She smiles. "You."
Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back.
"He's reckless when it comes to you," Vail continues. "Going after that man alone—I wanted to strangle him for taking that risk. For being so stupid, so impulsive. But I also understood it. He loves you in a way that makes him brave and stupid all at once."
"I hate it and I love it," I admit.
"That's exactly right." She squeezes my hand. "That's exactly what it feels like to love a man like him."
Mom appears with a tray of tea and sets it on the table between us.
She starts pouring cups with steady hands. "We need to talk about something happy," she announces. "Something to look forward to. Something that isn't tonight."
"Like what?" Astrid asks.
"Like my daughter's wedding."
All eyes turn to me.
I feel heat rise to my cheeks.
"We haven't really planned anything yet."
"Then let's start," Charm says. "Venue? Church? Outdoor? Here at the clubhouse?"
"I—I don't know. I haven't thought about it."
"Colors? Flowers? What season?"
"Mom—"
"You need a distraction, and so do I." Mom's voice is firm but kind. "So we're talking about the wedding. Deal with it."
Astrid laughs.
"She's right, you know. Nothing like wedding planning to take your mind off everything else."
"Fine." I settle back in my seat. "But I want something small. Nothing huge or elaborate. Just family, close friends, the club."
"That can be arranged," Mom says. "What about the dress? We should start looking at—"
"Actually." I hesitate. "I was thinking—hoping—I could wear yours."
Mom freezes, her cup halfway to her lips. "What?"
"Your wedding dress. The one you married Dad in." I swallow hard. "I know you probably kept it. And I just thought—if it would fit me—maybe—"
I don't get to finish because Mom bursts into tears.
Not quiet, dignified tears. Full-on sobbing.
The kind that shakes her whole body.
"Mom—I'm sorry—if you don't want me to—"
"Don't want you to?" She sets down her cup with shaking hands.
"Baby girl, I've dreamed about this since the day you were born.
Watching my daughter walk down the aisle in my dress—" She can't finish.
Just pulls me into a hug. "Yes. Yes, of course you can wear it.
Nothing would make me happier. Nothing in this world. "
Now I'm crying too.
Both of us are a mess.
The other women are watching with misty eyes.
"Gods, look at us." Mom laughs through her tears. "A bunch of emotional wrecks."
"The best kind of emotional wrecks," Fern says warmly.
"The dress might need alterations," Mom continues, pulling back to wipe her eyes. "You're taller than I was. Slimmer in the waist. But we can make it work. We'll make it perfect."
"I'd like that."
"And your grandmother's veil—you could wear that too. Something old, something borrowed—"
"Something blue," Astrid chimes in. "I have a blue garter you could borrow. Wore it when I married Geirolf."
"See?" Charm beams through her tears. "It's all coming together already."
We spend the next hour talking about the wedding.
As evening approaches, the mood shifts.
The men emerge from their preparations.
Dressed in dark clothes.
Weapons holstered.
The wedding talk fades away and reality crashes back.
This is it.
Gunnar finds me in the common room.
He takes my hand and leads me outside.
We stand in the parking lot, surrounded by bikes and trucks, the setting sun painting everything gold and orange and red.
Like fire, like blood.
"It's time," he says.
"I know."
"We'll be back by morning. Maybe sooner if everything goes smoothly."
"Does anything ever go smoothly?"
He almost smiles.
"Sometimes."
I step closer.
Press my hands against his chest and feel his heart beating beneath my palms.
Strong.
Steady.
Alive.
"I'm scared," I admit.
"I know."
"I can't lose you."
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I know that I'm coming back to you." He covers my hands with his. "I know that I have a wedding to show up for. I know that we have fifty plus years to spend together. And I know that nothing—nothing—is going to stop me from getting home to you."
"Promise?"
"I already did."
"Do it again."
"I promise, Ingrid. I will come back."
I rise on my toes and kiss him.
Soft this time.
Tender.
A kiss that says everything I can't put into words.
When I pull back, we're both breathing heavily.
Both clinging to each other.
"I love you," I whisper against his lips.
"I love you too."
"Go save those kids."
"Yes, ma'am."
One more kiss, then he's pulling away, walking toward his bike to join the others.
Dad and Runes at the front.
Gunnar and Tor behind them.
Hakon, Ulf, Magnus, Kraken, and so many others.
My father.
My fiancé.
My family.
Riding into danger.
The engines roar to life.
One by one, they pull out.
A thunder of horsepower and steel.
I stand there until the last taillight disappears into the darkness.
Until the sound of the bikes fades to nothing.
Until I'm alone in the parking lot with nothing but fear and hope and prayers I don't know how to say.
Inside, the women are waiting.
They fold me into their midst without a word.
We settle in for the long night ahead.
Tea and coffee while the kids watch a cartoon on the TV.
Quiet conversations.
Time moves strangely.
Minutes feel like hours.
Hours feel like days.
Every sound makes me jump.
Every phone buzz sends my heart racing.
But there's no word.
No updates.
Just silence.
And waiting.
The hardest part.
Always the hardest part.
Mom sits beside me, holding my hand.
Astrid on my other side.
The ol’ lady sisterhood.
Women who understand this fear in their bones.
Women who've survived this waiting before.
"Tell me it gets easier," I say.
"It doesn't," Mom admits. "But you get stronger."
"What if—"
"No what ifs. Not tonight. We wait. We hope. We trust."
I nod, squeeze her hand, and wait.
The clock ticks past midnight.
Past one.
Past two.
Still nothing.
I stare at the ceiling.
At my hands.
At the walls.
Anything to keep from screaming.