Chapter 6 #2
“But you were stupid for following the instructions of a person you didn’t know in damned text messages.
” His tone hardened and he glared. “You should’ve gone home, waited for your dad, and asked him for the truth.
He would’ve told you when it mattered. He was trying to protect you until you were ready. ”
“I’m twenty-two,” I argued, straightening. “I was ready years ago.”
He snorted. “Were you? Look at how you reacted after finding out yesterday.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I glanced away from him because he was right. I hadn’t acted how I should’ve, but if Dad had told me, I might’ve done things differently. Or at least, that’s what I wanted to tell myself.
“You changed the subject.” I nodded at him. “How did you get them?”
He stiffened and inhaled. Something shifted in his face—not quite a blankness, more like he’d stepped back from behind his own eyes—and I worried for a second that he’d been thrown into a flashback again. Finally, he sighed through his nose.
“All I’m going to tell you is that I was captured and tortured overseas when I served,” he said.
“Oh.” I winced and took a step forward. This time, he didn’t retreat but stayed still until I reached him. I laid a gentle hand on his chest.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he grumbled.
“I wasn’t going to,” I whispered. “What I was going to say was that you survived. That’s the important thing.”
He snorted. “What does survive really mean?”
I had no answer. What did I know about survival?
My life had been Angel Perch Drive, a safe future, and home-cooked meals.
His life was written in scars on his skin, a history of fighting for his country on foreign soil.
He’d been brutalized in ways I couldn’t imagine.
My idea of survival was passing an exam, his was living through torture.
We weren’t even in the same world.
I remained silent, and he clearly didn’t expect a response. He turned his back to me and headed for the door. “How’s the hangover?”
I chuckled. “Already puked, and I’m still a little lightheaded.”
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “That’s called consequences, kid.”
“It’s also called experiencing new things, something I was never allowed to do at home,” I retorted with a smug grin.
He paused, turning back to me. “Was turning your stomach inside out a good experience?”
I crinkled my nose, and he laughed.
He pulled out his phone and checked it. “Come on. It’s five. We’ve been sleeping all afternoon. Let’s get out of this room and figure out what’s happening.”
I followed him into a long, beautifully designed hallway and down a set of wide stairs.
My head ached, and each step made me feel nauseous again, but I suppressed the urge to gag.
Food sounded good right about now, especially since I hadn’t eaten since yesterday and my internal clock was completely off.
We entered the barroom, which was mostly empty except for Loki and Thor sitting at the bar. They were deep in conversation, but the moment we appeared, their voices died. Loki grinned at me and fluttered his fingers in my direction.
“Hey there, Champ.”
“Champ?” I frowned.
He laughed, a light, almost flighty giggle. He was a strange dude. “You won the bet.” Jumping to his feet, he waggled his eyebrows at me. He handed me a large wad of cash held together by a bill clip, and I choked. “Congrats.”
Before I could take the money, War snatched it from him and glared. “You’re a piece of work.”
Loki’s gaze darkened, and even though he appeared as innocent as an angel, I shivered. Something within him scared me. “I didn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.”
War stepped between us, his huge frame shielding me. His wide shoulders obscured most of my view of Loki, and as much as I enjoyed staring at his strong back, I didn’t need him to defend me. Not when running would only prove Loki right—I was prey.
I stepped around him and sighed. “When can we go home?” I asked, hoping to diffuse the anger-fueled tension.
Loki’s fury vanished so quickly I wondered if it existed in the first place, and he brightened, grinning in my direction. “You’ll be staying with us for a few days.”
“Why?” I looked at War, searching for answers, and his jaw tightened again.
He shot me a quick glance. “Because Odin is blackmailing us.”
“Blackmailing isn’t the right word,” Loki huffed, crossing his arms. “You entered our city without permission. It’s compensation.”
Confusion had me switching my attention between them. “Why do we need permission to be here?”
Loki chuckled. “It’s the rules of Pleasant Beach. Odin controls this city, and those who treat the law lightly . . . .” He winked at me. “Criminals like War here, need permission from Odin before entering, especially when conducting business. No one dies here without our say-so.”
“They have jurisdictional rules?” I asked, my brow furrowing. “I thought the point of being a criminal was to break laws, not create more of them for yourselves.”
War snorted out a laugh.
I shot him a wide-eyed stare. This was the first time I’d ever heard him make a noise of amusement. But what hit me as even more surprising was that he smiled at me. Fucking smiled. I didn’t know War could be anything other than stoic or irritated.
“Odin sucked the right cock,” he drawled.
Loki gritted his teeth, his expression turning to stone. “I’d watch your tongue if I were you.”
“What are you going to do?” War stepped close to him, and my spine stiffened. I swallowed, fear lodging in my throat, which still ached from the earlier incident with War. “Was it your cock he sucked? Does Daddy take care of his adopted son?”
“Enough!” Thor roared.
I flinched.
He shot to his feet and stalked over to us, slotting himself between Loki and War just as Loki attacked. Thor managed to grab Loki as he catapulted himself at War, holding him back even as Loki struggled.
“I’m going to fucking kill him, Tobias. Let me go. I’m going to pound his skull into the road and then fucking ride over it.” Loki jumped, and Thor caught Loki in a vice grip around his waist.
War crossed his arms, not showing an ounce of panic. He looked proud of himself.
“Stop it, Loki. Now.” Thor set Loki back on his feet and held his face still, thumbs pressed hard against his jaw.
He kissed him like he was proving a point, like he’d heard enough words.
I watched, not sure whether to pay attention or look away.
Loki went quiet against him, fingers curling into Thor’s shoulders, his whole body losing the argument.
I shifted closer to War. Would he kiss like that, as though there was nothing more exciting in this world than having his lips on me? I shivered at the thought and glanced at him. He was already staring at me, and when I caught him, he grunted and turned his attention back to Thor and Loki.
“Are you done with the PDA?” War grumbled. “We’re hungry.”
Thor broke off the kiss, and Loki moaned sadly. Thor turned to War and squared his shoulders. “Instead of pissing off Loki, you could’ve just asked. Come with me.” Thor dragged his boyfriend along, clearly unwilling to risk leaving Loki behind to attack us.
We followed them into a large dining room.
A long, heavy wooden table dominated the space, surrounded by men and women in leather.
A massive crystal chandelier hung overhead, a bizarrely elegant fixture in what was clearly a biker clubhouse.
The clash of styles was jarring, but my attention was fixed on the man at the head of the table—Odin.
He didn’t look at us when we entered, too busy shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. Between swallows, he chatted with another older man to his left who had long silver hair and a bushy beard. They laughed as Thor led us toward them.
“Odin, our guests are hungry.”
Odin stopped paying attention to the other man, who wore a black leather jacket with both the Norse Lords MC patch and the name “Vili” and position “Secretary” stitched into the left side.
“Are they?” Odin smirked and sat back in his chair.
“If you want to keep us here as prisoners, at least feed us like visitors,” War snapped.
“Please?” I offered sweetly, earning a glare from War.
Loki laughed. “At least someone has manners.”
“I’ll show you my manners when I stick my foot up your ass.” War shifted as though to step forward, but I grabbed his shoulder tightly, stopping him.
Odin’s expression darkened and he stood. For an older man, he was bulky. Handsome, too, with a striking face and a cute crease in his chin. “Warrick, as much as I usually enjoy your company, if you threaten my adopted son again, I will kill you. I only need to keep Kit alive.”
War sneered.
I heaved a massive sigh, gaining more than a few surprised glances, including from War and Odin.
“Are we done with this dick-measuring competition? Jeez. If I’d known all criminals acted like children, I might’ve chosen a different major.
Criminal Justice seems boring now that I’ve met a few of you. ”
The stares lingered on me until a laugh erupted from my right. My gaze shifted to a Hispanic man with shaved black hair and intense eyes. The collar of his jacket stood upright, and the name under his patch read “Fenrir” and “Enforcer.”
He held a piece of buttered bread but still managed to wave a finger at me. “Me gustas. Tienes agallas.”
I grinned, standing taller. “Gracias, Senor.”
“You speak Spanish?” he asked, tearing off a piece of bread with his teeth and chewing.
I gestured with a wavering hand. “Eh. Un poco. Yo estoy aprendiendo.” I chuckled, feeling a bit bold. “Let’s just say my family tree has a lot of branches. I’m trying to keep up.”
War growled. “English for those who don’t speak Spanish.”
I nudged him teasingly. “Then maybe you should do something about that. It doesn’t hurt to learn another language.” When he glared, I shook my head. “He said he liked me and that I had balls. I thanked him, and when he asked if I knew Spanish, I said a little, that I was learning.”