Page 27 of Thor

"You're safe now," I said, my voice gentler than anyone in the MC had ever heard it. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She looked up, meeting my gaze directly. "This is real, isn't it? They really might . . ." Her voice caught, unable to finish the thought.

"Yes," I answered honestly. No point sugar-coating it. "But they'd have to go through me first, and that's not happening."

A ghost of a smile touched her lips, there and gone in an instant. "You sound very certain."

"I am certain." I held her gaze, letting her see the truth in my eyes. "You're under my protection now. That means something in our world."

"I don't know how to live like this," she admitted, vulnerability bleeding through her professional facade. "Always looking over my shoulder, wondering if someone's watching."

"You don't have to know," I told her. "That's my job. Your job is to keep doing what you do—being smart, keeping our books straight, helping your sister. Let me handle the rest."

She studied me, searching my face for something—reassurance, maybe, or honesty. Whatever she saw made her nod slightly.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll try."

The door opened as Duke returned, breaking the moment between us. I straightened, stepping back from Mandy's chair. Duke pretended not to notice our proximity, but the slight raise of his eyebrow told me he'd seen more than I wanted him to.

"Everything's arranged," he announced. "Crusher and Wiz will retrieve your personal items. Tyson is contacting your office. We've got men checking your car for tracking devices now." He turned to me. "You should move out immediately. Take the north route, avoid main roads."

I nodded, extending my hand to Mandy. "Ready?"

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and placed her hand in mine. Her fingers were cold but steady now, determination replacing the worst of her fear.

"As I'll ever be," she replied.

As we headed for the door, Duke called after us. "Thor." I turned, meeting his serious gaze. "Keep the sat phone on. Check in every three hours. If anything feels off—anything at all—call for backup immediately."

"Understood," I said, recognizing the weight of responsibility he was placing on me. This wasn't just about protecting an asset to the club. This was personal for all of us now. The Serpents had crossed a line, and they'd pay for it eventually.

But first, I had to keep Mandy safe. Everything else – revenge, the club war, my own confused feelings – all of it would have to wait.

Chapter 6

Mandy

Thorlived... here?

I stood frozen just inside the entryway, my mouth slightly open, as afternoon light poured through massive windows that framed a view of endless pines. This wasn't what I'd expected. Not even close. I'd braced myself for a stereotypical biker den—dark, cluttered, maybe smelling of stale beer and motor oil. Instead, Thor's cabin was . . . beautiful. The revelation hit me like a physical jolt, forcing me to reconsider everything I thought I knew about the man who'd brought me here.

"You coming in or what?" Thor's deep voice rumbled from somewhere behind me.

I stepped forward, my boots silent against the polished concrete floor. The living room opened before me—an unexpected harmony of rustic and modern. Knotty pine walls glowed amber in the morning light, contrasting with sleek furniture and industrial touches. No tacky beer signs. No cheap furniture. Just clean lines, natural materials, and sophisticated minimalism.

"This is yours?" I couldn't keep the shock from my voice. "You actually live here?"

Thor moved past me, his massive frame somehow graceful in this space that was clearly built for him. "Yeah." A single syllable, but I caught the hint of wariness in it—like he was used to people underestimating him.

I ran my fingers along the smooth edge of a coffee table. The wood had been shaped with extraordinary precision, joints fitting together without visible fasteners. "You . . . built this?"

Thor nodded, a hint of pride briefly breaking his stoic expression. "Designed it too."

I'd spent the last two years balancing the tattoo parlor’s books, and I’d heard plenty about Thor. I thought I knew what to expect from the club's intimidating Sergeant-at-Arms. The man who'd insisted on personally handling my protection after the Iron Serpents started sniffing around me.

"Want the tour?" he asked, already moving toward the kitchen without waiting for my answer.

I followed, taking in every detail. The open floor plan revealed a kitchen that would make professional chefs jealous. Custom cabinets in dark walnut. A massive island topped with concrete. High-end appliances that gleamed under recessed lighting.

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