Page 2 of Ordinary Girl

“As long as he keeps his side of the bargain I don’t care what the fuck we pay him in.”

I flick through the papers, throwing them back down on the table. I’m satisfied. “We need Rik with us. Jakob being transferred left us vulnerable, but that place, Jesus, it’s full of fucking saints and do-gooders now, not like the old days. Finding a replacement was one major headache I’m in no hurry to go through again.” I get up, stretch my legs, start pacing the length of the room. This club –myclub, it means everything, it’s my haven. My home. I spend my days doing anything I can to protect it. Keep it safe. Keep it running. “He understands that that payment, it was a one off. Anything else, he has to earn it. He has to prove his loyalty before we fully trust him.”

Joel leans back against the wall and flips a cigarette between his teeth. “He understands.”

“Good. We need a lawman on board, and he’s the only option we’ve got right now. Let’s hope he doesn’t fuck us over.”

“He knows that wouldn’t be a sensible decision.”

“Keep eyes on him as much as you can. Get a couple of the prospects on to it.”

Joel blows smoke up into the air before stubbing his half-smoked cigarette out on the wall behind him.

“Jesus, Joel, use an ashtray. What are we? Fucking animals?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” Joel grins and drags a hand back through his hair.

Joel Madsen. One of my closest, most trusted friends. We met over twenty years ago, when he came to this chapter a messed-up sixteen year old with no direction. No clue where his life was going. Now he’s one of the most lethal brothers this club has known, the Vikings made him the man he is today. A man I rely on to help me run this chapter, I’d trust him with my life. We’re as close as blood, yet there are still things I keep from him. When it comes to some aspects of my life I’m a fiercely private man.

“I’ll get Kit and Jep on Rik’s case. I’ll be in the workshop if you need me.”

Joel leaves, closing the door behind him, and I make my way across the room, to the window that overlooks the compound.Mycompound. Now.

I wasn’t born into the biker world, even though my father had once belonged to a club, one based just outside of Malmo, Sweden, before he crossed the bridge into Denmark. That’s where he met my mother. She was the one who’d persuaded him to leave the life behind, settle into normality, and he let his dick take the lead on that one. He did what she wanted. They bought a house close to Christianshavn, got married. Had me. He never returned to the biker life, preferring instead to run a small bar and restaurant in the Copenhagen suburbs before returning to Sweden. I’d been seventeen, hadn’t wanted to go with them, and they’d reluctantly let me stay. Denmark was my home, I hadfriends. A life. I’d started hanging out at a bar frequented by a local biker gang – The Viking Bandits. Started to hang out at their clubhouse. Their world became one that fascinated me, and by the time I was nineteen I was a fully patched-in member, I was all in, a true brother. I had a place where I belonged, I had focus. And now I’m president of the club I love, and I think, deep down, even though he never told me as much before he died – I think my father was secretly proud of me. I was living his life. The one he never got to fully experience. He was happy, with my mother, but I know there was always a part of him that missed this world. So, I owe it to him to be the man he never had the chance to become. The best man I can be in a world that can fuck with your head, but sometimes the shit it throws at you is worth all the crap.

This ismyworld.

But it’s not one I live in constantly.

My father had another side. I have one, too…

Three

Sofia

Sliding up onto the bar stool, I check my watch. I don’t know why, I’m not expecting anyone. Not anymore. Ellen’s just sent me a text to say she can’t make it now. Oscar, her husband, a prominent businessman, needs her to host an impromptu drinks evening for a client of his. An important client that could bring a lot of money Oscar’s way, so I’ve been side-lined. But I’m here now so I might as well have a drink. I don’t feel much like going home just yet.

I order a white wine and text Ana. She’s at home with Lars, celebrating. Their meeting was a success, they’ve managed to broker a better deal with the supplier, she’s a clever girl, my daughter. My phone pings back a reply and I smile at the photograph she’s sent me, of her and Lars messing about like the kids they were not that long ago. I’d love for her to see Lars as more than just a brother figure, he’s a good man. Ana and the twins, they grew up together, they’ve been friends since they were five years old which is why Ana doesn’t really see him as anything other than that “brother” she never had, despite my subtle attempts to try and make her think otherwise. She always seems to fall for men who break her heart; the tattooed, tough-talking bad boy. She loves them. They love her. They hurt her. I’d like to see her marry Lars and live happily-ever-after in a cute little house in the street next to mine, but I can’t push her in a direction she’s never willfully going to follow, no matter how much I want that. It's my dream, not hers.

“That was one heavy sigh there. You got something on your mind?”

My head shoots up at the sound of a deep, almost gravel-toned voice coming from right beside me. There’d been nobody there a second ago, I guess I was too caught up fantasizing about my daughter’s perfect future to realize somebody’s standing there now.

“I’m sorry?” I’m not going to answer personal questions from a complete stranger.

“That sigh. I know that kind of sigh. You’re frustrated.”

“I don’t think it’s any of your businesswhatI am.”

He smiles, this stranger who feels it’s okay to have this conversation with me. “It isn’t, you’re right. I apologize.” He holds up his hands and takes a couple of steps back. “I’ll leave you to it. You’re quite obviously waiting for someone.”

He likes making assumptions, this tall, quite imposing man with the deep voice and piercing eyes. But there’s something about him that’s darkly fascinating. He seems very at ease, very self-assured, and that isn’t a bad thing. Dressed simply in black pants and jacket, gray shirt, his dark hair pushed back off his face, a good few days’ worth of stubble – it’s almost a beard – covering his strong jaw line, he’s handsome, in a rough-edged way. But I’m not in the habit of picking up strangers in bars, and the last thing on my mind right now is a relationship, of any kind. When Ana’s father walked out on us he hurt me. Badly. He abandoned his daughter; his wife. Our family. He took my trust with him and I’m in no hurry to put that in any man again.

“Iwaswaiting for someone.”

He looks at me, smiles slightly, and I find myself smiling back. “Are you telling me some guy has stood you up?”

I wait a second before I respond, I’m still weighing up whether or not I feel comfortable, talking to this man.

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