Chapter 6 #3
“I know what it’s like to lose everything.
You’d think I could just fall back on that.
I know that grief never goes away. I know the sick clenching in my stomach and the sucker punch way it destroys your chest, even years later.
I know I’m a survivor, so it’s pissing me off that I’m being a lame ass whiny brat right now. ”
He grunts at my vehemence. If I went any harder, I’d be hissing. “I have books for that too.”
I can’t tell if he’s deadpanning or not, so I roll with it. “I’d love to read that. A shower would be great, but the tattoo?”
“The skin bandage they put on is fine to shower with.”
I should have asked. I trust Odin. He’s covered in tattoos, so if anyone knows how it goes for healing them, it’s him.
He brushes past me and heads to the shelf with purpose, pulling out a well-thumbed paperback with creases in the orange spine.
The cover is white, with a Buddha head on the front.
I want to tell him that I don’t subscribe to categorical religious thought, but I guess Buddhism is more of a philosophy.
Plus, I asked. I can’t just shit all over his advice.
He sets the book on the nightstand, leaving it there like it’s okay for me not to pick it up.
He turns and bends down, his jeans tightening over his rock hard ass, his leather jacket literally groaning at the size of him as he reaches forward to slip a few records off the shelves.
I get why that bowed angel looks like she’s weeping now.
I had the impression that she’d be located in a graveyard, but she could also just be staring down at a body that has no right to be so fucking alluring.
I want to weep over his ass too, babe. I get you.
He pulls from various spots and leaves the stack beside the book.
“I hope that gets you through. If not, feel free to cry, yell, or scream. Whatever you need to do. A few guys might come running down the hallway to check on things, but nothing else will happen. I’ll protect your right to any emotions, however you want to feel them.”
“Oh god.” I remember that urge to laugh and scream, to rage and rail and yell and cry.
I’ve read all about protecting your energy, about not trusting shaky thoughts, about how what you think defines you.
I need to tell myself that I’m going to be fine, even if change is scary.
I can face the world like a boss. I need to cling to that.
“I’ll be okay. I stopped asking why a long time ago, when my dad was taken from me.
I learned that there isn’t an answer. The universe is random and cruel.
I know there’s love in the world, equal or greater than all that hate and pain, or at least, I want to cling to that hope.
Bad things just happen and it hurts. It might even hurt a lot, over and over, but I do know that you get through it.
I have plenty of practice. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
He looks even less convinced than before, but just like he’s done from the moment we met, he gives me his trust. Just like that. “That makes a lot of sense, what you said. I think that you’re right about all of it.”
“The tattoo pain helped release a lot of adrenaline. It was quite therapeutic.” I point to the TV. “Any shows that you’d recommend? Something with lots of drama and craziness that makes my situation look easy to handle?”
“I could recommend a few biker shows.”
Wow. Look at him flex his dry sense of humor again. This man is full of surprises. Over and over, he’s astounded me.
“Aren’t they horribly toxic and not at all close to reality?”
“Yes, but I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“You’re right. That fits what I asked for exactly. Do they get anything right?”
He thinks about that for a minute, lips pursed, frowning.
He’s so unfairly attractive when he gives those broody vibes.
“When you blend guys with pasts like ours, I can see how the toxic outlaw mentality would crop up. I’d say that we’re the exception.
We’ve worked hard to be. We have rules here that we strive hard to follow.
Tyrant is careful about how this club operates.
That means who gets to prospect and patch in, and how we take care of and give back to the community.
We weren’t all angels, despite the patch on our back, I can promise you that, but we’re no devils either.
We might have our demons, but we come here and work through them. We don’t let them consume us.”
I stare at him, open mouthed. He takes it the wrong way, but isn’t offended.
“Sorry. You didn’t need a damn sermon. It’s easy to sum up, hard to put into practice. Tyrant and our VP, Raiden—they work tirelessly. We all do, but especially them. It all takes a toll, but they have a strong will and a good heart to match.”
My chest constricts right along with my throat. “You make this place sound like somewhere I’d want to stay.” Tarynn did too. And Crow, even though he’s the strong, silent type.
“You could,” he says carefully. “But you don’t have to feel obligated.”
“I can’t believe it. In LA, I don’t know a single person, even my friends from school, who would open up their hearts and their lives like this. It’s just not- not small town like that, I guess. That doesn’t mean I don’t know good people.”
“Not everyone is in a position to help others,” he reasons. “It’s a privilege and none of us take it lightly. We’ve all been helped ourselves, at some point.”
“I’ll never forget any of this. I won’t take it lightly either. And I promise that the next time I’m in a position to help, I will.”
“I think you would anyway. You’ve seen both sides of life. It didn’t feel like a gift at the time, I’m sure, but it was the fire to your steel.”
“Blacksmithing references?” I choke out. “Do you do that?”
“I watch videos about it, but I don’t, sadly.”
This is a great excuse to prove that I’m okay, or that I will be. I know I’m deflecting and in the past, I couldn’t stand that. “Ever been to the renaissance festival things that they put on? With swords, and jousting, and turkey drums?”
“I’m sad to say I haven’t.”
“You should! You need to go! Tell me that you will!”
“I will.” He gives his promises, as solemn as any vow.
I nod, smiling for real as I picture him fisting two turkey drums. My brain has never been particularly imaginative.
I’ve always been great at science and math, less so at writing and art.
I think partly in pictures, but my brain is also super analytical.
I don’t get the video playback that some people claim to see.
My imagination isn’t great like that. I cling to logic where I can find it.
That said, my brain is sure great at feeding me pictures of what Odin would look like dressed in a suit of armor, wielding a sword, looking like he’s about to charge into bloody battle.
“If you’re absolutely sure you’re okay with me sleeping here, I promise I’m also absolutely sure that I’ll be okay.”
He nods immediately. “I’m more than sure.”
I’m more than sure that if he hasn’t washed that bed, sleeping surrounded by the scent of him will be both comfort and torture.
And where the hell is that coming from?
I’m not the kind of person who gets turned on by scent.
I can barely fantasize about anything. When I said I’m basically unimaginative, I meant it.
I went through years where I worked to the point of exhaustion.
Sex was an afterthought at best. Even when I had time, less stress, and was in a committed relationship where I mostly felt loved, I never got those shivers.
So why the hell do I keep wondering what it would be like to be trapped beneath Odin’s muscular body, pinned to the bed while he rails me senseless, utterly dominated, taken, filled to the brim, edged past what I ever thought I could take or do, until I’m a limp, used up mess?
My science brain is freaking the fuck out because there are very graphic images coming its way. No rationale. No math. No quantifying. Just raw, animal, messy, sweaty, amazingness.
I catch Odin studying me and immediately angle away.
“Thank you again for everything. Tarynn already told me that she’d be here at eleven to pick me up to take me to her salon.
You’ve done a crazy amount for me. Please don’t feel obligated to get up and see me off. She said she’ll meet me out front.”
He looks like he wants to say something.
I can see the words burning through him as I study him through the slits in my fingers before I drop my hands.
All he does is fall back on that quiet certainty he has.
Like a rock in a strong current, but not because he’s a big man. That’s the size of his spirit.
“Have a good sleep. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come and find me. I’ll leave the door open a crack.”
Thankfully, he leaves before his sweetness breaks me fully. He doesn’t have to see me brush away more tears.
After he’s gone, shutting the door tightly behind him, I slip over to his desk and sit down on the gaming style chair.
It’s nice and feels expensive. It would have to sturdy not to buckle under Odin’s weight.
I wheel it back a few inches, so I’m nowhere near the expensive equipment.
I know the laptop brand, and it’s top of the line.
I’m just not ready to sit on his bed yet.
It’s invasive.
It’s comforting.
It’s different, yet somehow familiar.
And all of that makes no sense at all.
My poor brain can’t contend with all of this. Sleep is probably the best option.
I’m really considering putting on some classical music, having a hot shower and then crawling into bed to pick up that book, but before I can do anything, my phone dings.
I’ve blocked both Preston and my mom’s numbers, as well as Preston’s parents’ numbers, and shut off my social media, and none of my friends would text at this hour.
I cringe before I even look at the screen, expecting Preston to have whined until one of his friends allowed him to use his phone. Or got a new one with a new number.
It’s not Preston.
It’s Tarynn.
That actually makes me smile until I see what she wrote.
Tarynn: Tomorrow is Odin’s birthday. Crow just told me, or else I would have mentioned it earlier.
I just wanted to let you know. Crow said that the club never makes a big deal about birthdays, he remembered Odin mentioning something in passing.
He’s not sure that Odin’s ever done anything in his life for his birthday which is really sad.
Anyway. Sorry. You’re probably asleep or trying to sleep.
We can buy him a cake or something tomorrow.
Whether Odin’s ever had a birthday celebrated or not, he’s getting one tomorrow.
Planning something special for him would be one small way I can say thank you for all that he’s done for me.
I just have to figure out what. I might be in a strange city, know virtually no one, and Odin might also be basically a stranger, but Tarynn lives here.
She’s connected to the club. She’ll help me.
I quickly text back, hoping that she hasn’t gone to bed.
Me: I had no idea. That’s crazy timing! Can I change the pickup time tomorrow morning? I know that given how late it is now, it would make 9 feel like the butt crack of ass, but would you be able to pick me up?
Barely a minute passes before she responds.
Tarynn: Sure! It’s no problem. I have an idea already, if you wanted to surprise him. I’ll involve Crow and he’ll get Tyrant and Raiden into this, and probably Wizard and Dravin and whoever else needs to be down for making up a bit of a white lie, but I think we can pull it off.
Me: Ahh, OMG, tell me! Or is it a surprise for me too?
Tarynn: The club owns a cabin up in the mountains.
It’s only a few hours from Hart. If I can get Wizard, the club’s IT guy, to say there’s a problem with the security cameras, then Tyrant could ask Crow and Odin to go up there and fix it.
He already knows you’ll be with me tomorrow getting your hair done, we could skip that and head to the cabin and get everything ready.
Crow could give me a ride back and we could peace out right after they get there. You guys could have alone time.
Me: Odin’s my ex’s biological dad.
Tarynn: And?
Tarynn: I’m kidding. Sorry. I shouldn’t joke over text.
Tarynn: Even if I do the voice to text thing. That’s why I’m bombarding you with the longest messages.
Tarynn: Sorry again. I didn’t mean alone time like that. We can stay, if you want.
Me: No need to be sorry. This whole thing is wild. Can you convince Crow to convince Odin to bring his camera? He’d love some time getting nature shots.
Me: Not that I’d know anything about that. I’m a city girl through and through. The woods terrify me. And sort of thrill me in equal measure.
Tarynn: I hear you! Anything you want, I’ll make it work. Crow’s awesome like that. He seems all scary and quiet on the surface, but once you know him, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for the people he cares about.
Tarynn: I might be biased.
Me: It’s okay to be biased. Thank you for everything, times a MILLION. You guys are the most amazing found family I never knew I could have. I was starting to feel super lonely when I got back here, but I’m good now. I’m freaking excited. Seriously. Very much so.
Me: Can I still meet your dog?
Tarynn: First thing, babe. I’m coming for you at nine. And we’ll for sure do your hair soon! Have a good night! See you in like… a few hours, haha.
Me: Thank you again. You’re amazing. Goodnight!!
After texting, it’s crazy how my energy has been poured back into me. I might as well have just been jolted with a livewire. My skin prickles, the back of my neck tingles, my heart is beating wildly with excitement, and the rest of me can’t sit still.
It might be crazy, but I always thought that people who made others out to be that way just for being different or thinking differently were in the wrong. Crazy is a perception, and it doesn’t matter that I didn’t even know Odin twenty-four hours ago.
I know him now.
Tomorrow is his day. A day that I’m going to do everything I can to make special. If that’s crazy, then the whole of the world probably needs to adjust its opinions. Either way, sleep or no sleep, I’m throwing my whole self behind this, and I’m going to do it to the best of my ability.