Page 83 of Thor

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward. Other library patrons came and went, their quiet movements barely registering in my consciousness. I was too focused on what awaited me at The Copper Kettle.

At 2:30, I closed the medical book and returned it to the shelf. Time to position myself at the coffee shop before the blackmailer arrived. I needed the psychological advantage of being there first, of choosing my seat, of watching them enter.

I slipped out of the library's side exit, checking carefully to make sure Thor's truck wasn't visible anywhere nearby. The coffee shop was three blocks away—an easy walk through the center of Ironridge.

My phone buzzed in my hand. A text from Thor: "Everything OK? Need me to pick you up?"

My fingers hovered over the screen. Another lie. "Still researching. Will head to Dr. Patel's office from here. I'll call you after."

I hit send, then immediately silenced my phone. No more distractions. No more guilt. I needed all my focus for what came next.

Chapter 14

Mandy

Ishifteduncomfortablyonthehard wooden chair, scanning the crowded café with practiced precision. The Copper Kettle buzzed with afternoon energy. Every third table outside was claimed by students with laptops or older couples lingering over late lunches.

Inside was worse – packed with the post-lunch crowd who couldn't bear to return to their offices. I'd deliberately chosen the corner table against the exposed brick wall. It gave me sight lines to both the front door and the side entrance near the bathrooms. A tactical choice. Something I'd unconsciously absorbed from watching Thor operate in rooms, always aware, always ready.

"Can I get you anything else?" The server appeared at my elbow, startling me badly enough that my hand jerked, nearly toppling my untouched drink.

"No. Thanks." I forced a smile I didn't feel.

I checked my watch: 2:54 PM. Six minutes until my life potentially fell apart. The chai latte I'd ordered sat cooling, untouched. I had no appetite, no thirst – just the metallic taste of fear coating my tongue.

My eyes tracked each person who entered—a young mother with a stroller, an elderly man with a newspaper, two college girls laughing over something on a phone. None of them the person I was waiting for. None of them a threat, though every face felt like one.

At exactly 3:00, he arrived.

He didn't look like what I'd expected. No leather cut brandishing rival colors. No obvious tattoos crawling up his neck. Just a lean man with close-cropped dark hair and ordinary clothes – dark jeans and a gray henley that revealed nothing about his affiliation. Nothing except the edge of what looked like scales peeking from beneath his collar. A serpent scale. The badge of my nightmares.

He spotted me immediately and moved with casual confidence through the crowded tables. No hesitation, no searching glances. He knew exactly who I was and where I'd be sitting.

"Miss Wright." He slid into the seat across from me, his voice surprisingly soft. His smile never touched his eyes – flat and cold as river stones. "I'm Viper."

The road name confirmed my worst fears. Not some random thug, but a patched member of the Iron Serpents MC. Thor's sworn enemies.

Viper placed his phone face-down on the table between us. A silent reminder of what that device contained. Of the power he held over me.

"Let's not waste time," he continued, his voice low enough that nearby tables couldn't hear. "You know what we have. That’s not important. What matters is what we want. Copies of everything – all the bookkeeping you do for the Kings, bank account details, property records, investment portfolios. Every legitimate business front they operate."

My lungs felt too small suddenly, like I couldn't pull enough air into them. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, the lie hollow even to my ears.

His expression didn't change, but something hardened in those eyes. "The Kings' financial woman. The accountant they trust with their legitimate operations. That's you, isn't it? Amanda Wright?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

"It wasn't hard to find you," he continued, taking a sip from a water glass he'd brought with him. "You do clean work. Professional. The kind that keeps the Kings looking legitimate on paper."

My hands were trembling beneath the table. I clasped them tightly in my lap, hoping he couldn't see. "Why would you think I have access to all that?"

His smile tightened. "Because Thor Eriksson has given you more access than anyone outside their inner circle. The feared Sergeant-at-Arms trusts you completely."

The mention of Thor's name in this man's mouth felt like a violation. I flinched visibly, and he noted it with obvious satisfaction.

"How did you—"

"We've been watching. Thorough investigation. You're not just their bookkeeper, are you?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. "Spending nights at his cabin in the woods. Quite the cozy arrangement."

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