Chapter 10
Ten
Kind of want to fight. Kind of want to have your baby.
—Constance to Odin
Constance
It was officially week two, day eight, of the trial.
I pulled my new SUV into the closest parking spot I could find to the courthouse and got out.
Today there were deliberations and rulings.
They said that we’d “probably” get out around noon.
I hoped so.
I had a lot of things to do, and not a lot of time to do them.
I had to get Wendy to the doctor to get her blood. I had a deadline to meet with a contest that I was entering my photography into. And I also had to get home to help my mother and father since they’d had an influx of injured wildlife hit them over the last few days.
An injured young wolf that’d gotten his foot stuck in a trap. A mature eagle that’d flown into a net that’d covered some gardens and torn his wings up. And a juvenile elk that had lost his mother to an eighteen-wheeler.
That was on top of the several other animals already in residence.
Plus, Mom and Dad weren’t getting any younger.
We could use a hand or two that wasn’t related and didn’t mind getting paid very little.
Overhead for wildlife rehab facilities was quite high, and the government only helped so much.
I put my SUV in park, hit the button to shut it off, and got out.
As I did, three alarms beeped.
I eyed my keys in the cupholder and sighed before reaching for them and tucking them away in the door panel.
I hadn’t brought a purse today, which was going to suck around lunchtime.
Because there was no way in hell that I was eating what they had to offer.
I’d learned my lesson the hard way.
Closing the door, I locked it using the keyless entry and started up toward the front door. As I got closer, a blond head became visible over the huge pillars.
Odin.
I hadn’t talked to him much over the last few days, but I’d gotten here late both of those days thanks to traffic and dealing with my car.
I was elated to find out that the dealership had agreed to return my SUV and give me a brand-new one identical to the previous one.
And it hadn’t had one single problem since I started driving it four days ago. A major change from the one that I’d taken back.
What was funny was that the owner and the sales manager that I’d dealt with about my car previously had been overwhelmingly welcoming and accommodating.
They’d practically bent over backward to get me the new car, had filled it up with gas, and had offered free oil changes for the rest of the life of the car.
It was the weirdest and best thing that’d ever happened to me.
Weeks of craziness dealing with them had led to a wave of relief overtaking me.
A billow of smoke flowed out of Odin’s mouth the closer I got to him, and I frowned. “You smoke?”
“Every once in a while.” He showed me the cigar. “It keeps my mind from walking.”
“Huh,” I said. “Does it really? Or is it a psychological crutch that you use because you think it helps and it doesn’t?”
“It’s clinically proven.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I had a bad night.”
I frowned.
Then I remembered waking up today to the news that another teen had gone missing. This one close to graduating high school.
That must mean that Odin had a long night as the medical examiner for the county.
“Well,” I said. “Luckily this is almost over.”
“Today.” He stubbed the cigar out on the concrete wall he’d been leaning on and stuffed it into the metal tray by the door for just that.
“I thought there were rules on how close you could smoke to building entrances?”
“There are,” he said. “But usually that means that someone would have to enforce it. And no one did.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you would take advantage of the law.”
He held the door open for me and eyed me as I walked past. “Do you ever do anything wrong?”
I shrugged. “Not intentionally.”
“Was that you I saw not returning your cart yesterday at the supermarket?”
I scowled. “There are no cart returns in the back of the lot. Only at the front. And I’m not leaving my five-year-old in the car by herself.”
His lips twitched. “What about speeding in a residential neighborhood?”
I clenched my teeth.
I’d sped through that residential neighborhood because I’d seen Odin shirtless in his front yard with a chainsaw last weekend.
Had I been driving the speed limit, I might’ve done something inappropriate.
Like attack the poor man. And not in a mean way.
In a sexual, he’s too hard to resist, kind of way.
Hell, my perfectly working SUV had nearly taken out a curb as I’d watched him as I passed.
The only thing that saved me from taking out his new mailbox was Wendy crying out in surprise.
I’d corrected and kept driving, but not before catching the attention of the half-naked man.
He’d looked up just in time for me to veer wildly back away from the curb.
I’d watched him laugh in my rearview mirror, too.
“That was an accident,” I lied. “I sneezed.”
That was a legit thing, though.
I’d always wondered what would happen if I had one of my sneezing fits while driving.
They were embarrassing at the best of times. But sneezing while in the car time after time after time seemed like an accident waiting to happen.
“Huh,” he murmured as he left me behind to head to the courtroom.
I took up my usual spot right next to him, since we were the last ones to arrive like always.
He crossed his arms over his chest, and I inhaled deeply as his scent hit me.
The cigar smoke didn’t bother me.
It smelled like cedar and cocoa with a hint of spice.
I hadn’t realized cigars could smell so damn good.
But I sat there inhaling Odin’s scent as we listened to closing arguments from both sides of the lawsuit.
When we were dismissed to the deliberation area, Odin once again found a seat next to me.
“What are we leaning?” the head juror asked.
I shrugged. “Guilty.”
That was probably always going to be my opinion, but the so to speak “good guys” had done their homework and due diligence.
They’d made sure that there was no doubt which way this should go.
“Agreed,” Odin murmured quietly.
The rest of them took a little longer to answer.
By the time we’d all come to a unanimous decision, it was well past one o’clock and I was starving.
We delivered the decision, the judge delivered the news and his well-thought-out punishment for the defendant, and we were free to go.
As we left, the skies looked like they were about to open.
I eyed the bike parked behind my SUV and wondered if Odin was going to get rained on the entire ride home.
I didn’t stop for any food like I’d originally been intending, instead deciding to follow behind Odin to make sure that he made it home all right.
As the first sprinkles began to fall, Odin seemed unfazed.
My wipers picked up speed as it rained harder and harder, and soon it was raining so hard that I couldn’t see anything but Odin’s taillight in front of me.
Even worse, I was now driving on mountain passes in the pouring rain, hoping beyond hope that Odin made it safely.
The lightning struck, lighting up the world, and I gasped when I saw it land only inches in front of Odin.
“Oh my god,” I breathed as he slid to a stop, his muscular thigh going out as the bike started to skid on its side to a stop.
I gasped, put the SUV in park, and jumped out, hauling ass toward where Odin was setting his bike back up and staring in shock at the ground in front of him.
“Are you okay?” I cried out, instantly soaked from head to toe.
It was even inside my shoes.
Odin’s eyes met mine and he nodded. “Fine. I can’t hear all that well, though.”
I wasn’t doubting that.
“Do you want to ride back with me?” I asked, concerned despite the fact that I was still trying to keep my distance.
“No.” He hesitated. “I can’t leave this on the side of the road.”
I didn’t argue with him, instead said, “Be careful.”
He nodded and got the bike moving again.
I slid into my dry car and followed behind him.
My knuckles were damn near transparent as we made it into Sawtooth an hour and forty-nine minutes later.
I counted every single one of the minutes down, as well as the miles.
I pulled into my drive after Odin turned toward his house in Sawtooth. I put it in park and stared blankly at the house in front of me as my heart started to come back to me.
“What the fuck,” I breathed as I got out and ran across the muddy ground toward the house.
“Mama!” Wendy cried. “I’m ready!”
I saw that.
“I need to change,” I admitted. “We’re going to be late, but I can’t go looking like a drowned rat.”
She smiled. “I’ll wait right here.”
I didn’t argue with her, instead heading inside and getting changed as quickly as I could.
When I was done, I grabbed both of our raincoats and headed to the car with her.
She jumped and wiggled in her seat, her eyes excited. “Grammy and I helped with that wolf today. She said I couldn’t go in his cage yet. Probably never. But he had this really pretty smile.”
I looked at my daughter in the rearview mirror as I backed out and laughed. “Pretty smile?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I named him Socks. Because he’s black with white feet. He looks like he stepped into the snow.” She paused for a breath. “When do you think it’s going to snow?”
I grimaced as I pulled onto the road that would lead me to Sawtooth from our driveway. “The weatherman says any day now. This storm that’s rolling in is the beginning of a cold front.”
“Oh.” She clapped. “Do you want to build a snowman with me when we get enough snow?”
I smiled, happy that she even had a chance to build a snowman this year. “Of course I do. Then we can watch Frozen.”
“Excellent.” She clapped again. “Hey, isn’t that Mr. Odin from the grocery store?”
I looked up just in time to see Odin heading to his front door, soaked to the bone.
“That’s him,” I agreed.
“Why would he ride his motorcycle in the rain?” She giggled. “That’s silly!”