“That you need to come to terms with the past and what’s eating you if you want to find anything true.”
“I don’t know what the fuck that means,” I grunt with a laugh.
Gods love speaking in riddles. No matter what type they are. Norse. Greek. Summarian. Celtic. They’re all alike.
“You’ll know soon enough.” My mom shrugs. “If Evelin needs me for anything, you know how to reach me.”
I did indeed know how to reach my mother. It’s a secret that we’ve kept from Evelin. We didn’t want her to feel like she wasn’t special to us, my mother, being my biological mom, and I have a connection that allows us to communicate with each other. Not that we use it. Unless it’s an absolute emergency.
“Evelin will be okay while you’re gone, Mom.”
Fire wasn’t gonna let anything happen to my sister. I’ll be right there alongside him in making sure she stays safe. Evelin might not share blood with me, but that’s never meant anything to me. She’s my little sister. I remember the day our mom placed her in my arms as a kid. I made the promise then that I’d keep her safe, and I’ll never go back on it.
Not even when she makes things difficult.
“Good. Until then, so you know, Freyja will be in and out,” Mom states as she gets to her feet. “And remember one thing over anything else, Rankin.”
I stiffen at my mother’s use of my real name rather than what I allow others to call me. It’s not that I mind her using it, but Iget what she’s doing. She’s sending me a message to hear rather than just listen. There’s a difference between the two.
You can listen to just about anything, but you have to really hear it to understand. Right now, she’s telling me to expect something I’m not going to be happy about.
Nodding to her, I get up out of my own seat and watch her leave without another word. Herja could easily vanish into thin air, but here at the clubhouse, she tries to do normal things and leave through the doors rather than freak everyone else out. There are a lot of supernatural beings among my brothers, but none of us can simply disappear.
Being Herja’s son, I have gifts of my own, but nothing like the others. I’m mostly human, though I have a life span of an immortal, so long as I don’t get killed, though even that would take cutting my head off.
With what my mom has told me, I need to get my mind off everything else. I could get Chellie and take my frustrations out on her, but right now, I’m not feeling it.
“Brimstone,” I shout, spotting my VP over at the bar.
“Yeah, Prez?” He looks at me, beer lifting to his lips. It’s barely noon, and he’s already started drinking. Though Brimstone could damn well drink all damn day and not get buzzed. That is, unless it was a special brew. Where I’m the son of a Valkyrie, Brimstone’s the grandson of Odin. His father was his son, and his mother was a witch.
Not everyone within the Kings of Anarchy MC throughout the country is a supernatural being. Some chapters don’t even know we’re ‘gifted’.
“I’m heading out on my bike,” I tell him, and head for the doors. I need to clear my head and think. I want to feel free of all the damn thoughts filling my head. As much as I love fucking, the appeal of taking one of the horas does work on me. Not in the way my bike calls to me.
Nothing beats being on the back of my motorcycle, feeling the rumble between my legs, knowing I’m in control and can’t be contained. I’ll never be contained or controlled. Not by anything or anyone.
Feeling free is what matters to me. It’s one of the reasons I won’t ever be tied down by a woman.
TWO
MCKENNA
“This can’t be happening,” I mutter to myself for the umpteenth time today.
I can’t believe I’m allowing this to happen, though I know I can’t help it. There’s no stopping it. It’s out of my control.
This morning, after getting home from work at the nightclub I was working at, yes, I’m a stripper, and I’m good at it. I love what I do. I don’t throw shade at those who work in the sex trade or dance on a pole to make a living. I do it, and it’s something I don’t regret.
Sure, I have to deal with men and women who get a bit too handsy, but I wouldn’t want not to dance. I work hard on my body to be able to be one of the headliners at Leon’s Essence.
Leon makes sure to take care of the girls who work for him and the rest of his staff, including security. That’s one thing he’s never skimped on.
Over the years, he’s had girls come and go. I’ve been with him for two and a half years, making headliner after the first six months of dancing, and I love it here. I’ve even talked to Leonabout when the time comes and I’m not able to dance anymore, not that that day will ever come, but still, he said I can take a different position and not have to leave Leon’s Essence. Which is good because he has a great insurance and retirement plan for those who work here.
Only this morning, when I got home from work, I found my place had been vandalized. I didn’t call the police. I didn’t even call Leon. I called my godmother. It might seem stupid, but it is what it is. I called her because I knew she’d know what I should do. I trust her more than anyone, including Leon, and that’s saying something.
I might have only been working for Leon for two and a half years, but that doesn’t mean I hadn’t known him longer. I’ve known the man since I was a kid. When he finds out I didn’t tell him about my home being broken into, he’s going to be livid, his head might implode, but he’ll get over it . . . maybe.
