Page 31 of Loki's Luck

“Why the fuck not?” Swift asks, confused.

“Ain’t no woman gonna want to be stuck with an ugly mug like this,” Comp says, motioning to his face.

That just pissed me right the fuck off.

“Who the fuck told you that? I want a name,” I snarl, grabbing my knife from its sheath and gripping it in my fist. He looks down at it and shakes his head before bringing his gaze back over to me.

“Many people have made comments in the past, Loki. Shit, I’ve said it myself. Just let it go, brother,” he says before turning and leaving the house. We hear the door shut quietly downstairs and turn to each other.

“He’s going to find a woman who’s going to think he holds the moon in the palm of his hands, and he’s going to fuck it all up because of that damn scar,” Hitter says, still looking at the door Comp left through while shaking his head in disbelief.

“All we can do is try to knock some sense into him. Hopefully, we can somehow make sure the woman he ends up with is just as stubborn and tough as our women,” Swift says as I place my knife back in its holster. Prez has a point. Now that I’ve found my Lil Psycho, whose demons perfectly match the ones in my soul, I hope the rest of my brothers find who they need to complete their lives.

Damn, I have to tell my pet that one; she’ll think I’m turning into fucking Shakespeare or some shit.

“Speaking of the women. We might want to go get the kids before they come looking for us,” Hitter says, turning and starting out the door.

“Good idea,” I say, following them down the stairs and out of the house. I feel like a fucking kid in a candy store. I can’t wait to show Halle, Rome, and Rae their new home.

“Did Comp ever find out about Rome and Rae’s birth parents?” Hitter asks as we make our way back to the clubhouse.

“Yeah, he got me a picture of them together that I want to give the kids. I just want Rome and Rae to be able to talk to us about them first before giving it to them. Don’t want to bring back some bad memories if they have any memories of them at all. Either way, we want them to come to us,” I tell him.

“So, how did their parents die?” Swift asks.

“The cops ruled it a murder/suicide, but from the little bit of information on the police report, it doesn’t sit right with me. Their dad was the district attorney,” I tell them, and they both stop to look at me.

“Holy shit, I remember that case. A home invasion gone wrong,” Hitter says, nodding.

“I’m having Comp look into it more. I need more details to give my kids closure should they need it. We will see what happens,” I tell them.

“Keep us updated, brother,” Swift tells me. I give him a chin lift before we split.

Swift, Hitter, Grim, Grease, and I are all sitting in Swift’s living room watching UGA beat Alabama in the SEC championship. Hitter suddenly jumps to his feet.

“Motherfucker!” he yells.

“What the fuck is going on?” I ask on high alert.

“You know how I had that tracker planted in Izzy’s engagement ring?” he asks, seething.

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. I really wish he would get to the fucking point. Hitter curses under his breath as he turns and makes his way to the door.

“It shows the girls are fucking at Devils Crossroads,” he says, opening the door with a bit too much force.

“Motherfucker!” Swift and I both yell. I jump to my feet and rush after Hitter and Swift. Just as we step out onto the porch, Swift’s phone rings.

“What?” he snaps, not even looking at the phone. Swift puts it on speaker before racing down the stairs toward our bikes.

“Prez, I just walked into work and thought you might want to know… your woman, Izzy, and Halle are all here at the bar,” Beau’s voice says through the phone.

“We’re headed your way now. Keep your eyes on them,” Swift says, about to hang up when Beau speaks again.

“You may want to hurry, Prez. Looks like it’s going to be a rowdy night, and the show’s about to start,” he says cautiously.

“Shit,” Swift says, this time hanging up and roaring his bike to life. Hitter and I are right there with him, riding his ass as we make our way to our newly opened bar. I swear to fuck, when I get my hands on my pet, her punishment will be so severe she won’t be able to fucking sit for a week, and not in a good way, either.

We pull up in the parking lot of Devils Crossroads and are off our bikes before they come to a complete stop.

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