Page 12 of Viking
“Hey there,” I said, my voice gentler than I’d used in years.“Your dad was my best friend when we were younger.”
She didn’t speak, but she took a step closer, her small face serious as she studied mine.Then, to my surprise, she pointed at the photo in my hand.
“That’s right,” I said.“That’s your dad.”
She nodded, just once, before returning to her rabbit.The interaction was brief, but something about it felt significant -- like she’d assessed me and decided I wasn’t an immediate threat.It wasn’t trust, not by a long shot, but it was a start.
Karoline emerged with two duffel bags and Athena’s small pink suitcase.“I think that’s everything essential.Clothes, toiletries, some books and toys.”
“Good.Let’s move.”
I carried the bags to my truck, hyperaware of our surroundings as Karoline secured Athena in the car seat I’d hastily installed before leaving the compound.With all the kids the club had over the years, we kept one or two stashed in storage at the clubhouse for emergencies like this.Marnie hugged Karoline goodbye, whispering something that made Karoline nod with tears in her eyes.
As we pulled away, I watched Karoline’s house recede in the rearview mirror, wondering if she’d ever return to it.In my experience, once you entered the kind of danger Kris had warned about, normal life was never quite the same again.
“The compound has three entrances,” I explained as we drove, filling the silence with information she needed.“Main gate, which you came through earlier.Service entrance on the east side for deliveries.Emergency exit to the south.All guarded 24/7.”
Karoline nodded, her hands folded tightly in her lap.“And your house?”
“Set back a bit.More privacy, but still within the fence line.Not close to a gate.”I glanced at her profile, noting the worry lines between her brows.“Every man in the club would die before letting anything happen to a woman or child under our protection.You’ll be safe.”
“I believe you,” she said softly.
“The club has rules,” I continued, pushing past the emotion.“Respect the patches.Don’t ask about club business.Stay within the compound unless you have an escort.”I paused, glancing at her.“And don’t go into the clubhouse without me.Some of the guys bring women around who aren’t… appropriate company for Athena.”
She nodded, taking it all in.“How long have you been with them?The Dixie Reapers?”
“From being a Prospect to now, nearly twenty years.”
“Is that why you stopped coming around?To our family gatherings?”
The question caught me off guard, the hint of hurt in her voice unexpected.“Partly,” I admitted.“Club life is demanding.And Kris and I… our paths went in different directions.”
We fell silent as we approached the compound.The guards at the gate straightened as my truck approached, nodding respectfully as they swung it open without question.Several brothers stood near the garage, tracking our progress with curious glances.
“That’s the clubhouse,” I pointed out as we drove past the main building.“Garage and shop over there.Behind all that is a picnic area and playground.And back here… This is it,” I said, pulling up in front of the porch steps.“Home, sweet home.”
Karoline stared at the house, then at me, reality seeming to settle over her features.She was about to move in with a man she barely knew anymore, into a biker compound, with a traumatized three-year-old.All because her brother had died with secrets that might get them killed.
“We’ll be safe here?”she asked, her voice small but determined.
I met her gaze directly.“On my life, Karoline.On my life.”
We got out and I watched as she helped the little girl out of the backseat.I shouldered their luggage and led the way up the porch steps, suddenly aware of every creak in the weathered wood, every scuff on the paint, every detail of a home I rarely saw through others’ eyes.The key turned in the lock with a familiarclick, and I pushed the door open, stepping aside to let Karoline and Athena enter first.My place wasn’t fancy -- never had been -- but I felt an unexpected twinge of self-consciousness as they crossed the threshold, bringing their tragedy and fear and copper-bright hair into my solitary domain.Although, I’d once let another woman stay here for a bit, until Hawk could pull his head out of his ass.She’d added some homey touches during her stay and I’d left them.
“It’s not much,” I said, setting the bags down by the door, “but it’s secure.”
Karoline stepped into the main living area, Athena’s small hand clasped firmly in hers.I watched her eyes take in the space -- the oversized leather couch worn smooth from use, the solid oak coffee table bearing rings from countless beer bottles, the bookshelves lining one wall.She paused when she saw the sword hanging on the wall but didn’t ask about it.Her gaze lingered on those books, surprise flickering across her features at the number of volumes.Yeah, bikers read too.
“It’s nice,” she said, and sounded like she meant it.“Comfortable.”
I shrugged, closing and locking the door.Three deadbolts -- two standard, one custom -- plus a security bar I slid into place at night.Paranoid maybe, but paranoia kept people alive in my world.Too much shit happened around here to take any chances.
“Living room, obviously,” I said, gesturing around.“TV’s got all the streaming services.Kitchen’s through there.”
I led them through to the kitchen, where gleaming stainless-steel appliances contrasted with the rustic wooden cabinets.It was the one room I’d splurged on when renovating the place -- cooking was the closest thing to therapy I’d found over the years.Not that I’d ever admit it.
“I keep the basics,” I said, opening the refrigerator to reveal milk, juice, eggs, fresh vegetables.“And there’s cereal, bread, peanut butter.We can get kid stuff, or whatever else the two of you want.”
