Page 2 of Odin
I only knew about them at all because Preston’s mom was extremely drunk one night. She and his stepdad had gone to some function, and they’d come back late, both of them pretty wrecked. I was sixteen and intimidated as hell by her plastic appearance, cold eyes, fixed smile, and her fake niceness. She wanted to talk to me, and I was too nice to tell her no. Preston was outside with his stepdad, and all of a sudden, his mom was telling me about the man she still thought of in her unguarded moments. She’d laughed a little, then sighed longingly. It was probably the only real emotion and true words I ever saw andheard from her. Preston once let slip something about his real dad being in a biker club somewhere. His mom had been wild and rebellious when she was younger. She wanted to be an actress, but she worked at a nightclub to make ends meet, and that’s where she met Preston’s dad. He lived in LA at the time, but he moved on a few weeks after they shared a night together. The end result of that night?
Preston.
Instead of being a deadbeat biker, his dad sent money every single month, even though Preston’s mom basically told him flat out he was going to have no part in raising a child. He seemed to be okay with that. He did the right thing and supported his son how he could. He kept doing it until Preston’s mom remarried. She met a plastic surgeon in LA and instead of starring in movies, she became the star of her own show.
That night, she mentioned not only the name of the club, but Preston’s dad as well.
I use that name. It’s the only one I know. If I’m wrong about all of this, I know how stupid I’m going to look. If I’m right about all of it, I can’t say it’s a very smart plan either, but anger makes a person do things they normally wouldn’t do. “Hey… I’m looking for someone named Kenneth Miller?”
Both guys give me a blank look.Shit. Right. He probably has a club name. I don’t know it.
“Uh- I don’t know what he might go by. I’m friends with his son. In LA. Preston.” I screw my eyes shut, heaving an internal sigh. What if Preston’s dad didn’t tell anyone he had a kid? What if they don’t even know his real name?
Fucking hell. I thought I was as prepared as I could be for this, and maybe I am, but I’m starting to realize just how out of my depth I am.
I raise my chin the same way I used to dig in back when I worked a full time job in high school to keep my mom and I from ending up homeless. I was scared back then, when my dad died and we lost everything, but I’m not afraid. I’m not that naïve girl anymore.
I refuse to be afraid, just like I refuse to feel any grief over what happened last night.
“Can you hold on a second?” The younger guy asks. He runs a hand over his chin. He’s probably my age, but I feel so much older than him. I think he’s cute, but not in an attractive way. In a baby-faced, sweet, fumbling, nice guy kind of way.
He tries very hard not to let his eyes travel away from my face and he mostly succeeds, but he still blushes deeply, the streetlight revealing the red creeping down his neck and up into his cheeks.
My hands flex at my sides, but I try to hide them in the pleats of my skirt. “Sure.”
He leaves while the other guy crosses his arms and walks back and forth in the compound. He doesn’t give me any sort of stink eye. He seems as nervous as I’m trying to pretend I’m not.
The back metal door slams shut, and I snap my head up and around. The younger guy is back, and trailing after him is a guy who looks…
Like a battle-scarred Viking.
Impossibly tall. Broad. I’d put him in his late forties. His beard is surprisingly well groomed, and his salt and pepper hair is shaved short on the sides and left long on top.
It’s the eyepatch that gets me. He has several other scars on his face, one by his lip, another along his jaw, but they’re small enough. I doubt he just wants to look cool wearing that patch. He probably has it because he needs it.
He passes the young man, eating up the gravel with long strides. He’s wearing the same arrangement of clothing as they are, but on him, that leather jacket seems more dignified. He’s at least twice the size of the other two guys, filled out with age, his chest massive, and his shoulders huge. Instead of looking grizzled or gnarled like I expected he’d be, the scars only add to his allure.
I came prepared to sacrifice myself on an altar of revenge. It didn’t matter how nasty I pictured Preston’s dad. I would do it, photograph it, get it over with, and move on. Out of character? Yes. Wildly inappropriate? Also yes. I never thought I’d be here in a million fucking years.
I also never thought Preston’s dad would be smoking hot.
Preston’s dad—at least I assume they’ve brought me the right guy—pushes buttons into a keypad on the other side and the chain link gates slides open with a quiet whirr of the mechanism above.
I freeze in place, unable to take a breath or think a coherent thought.
My heart races as this giant of a man steps right out, past the chain link and into the night. The golden streetlight glints off his left eye. It’s dark brown, but not cold at all. He smiles as heextends a tattooed hand. Heavy silver rings adorn long, capable fingers with blunt nails.
“I’m Odin. I believe you wanted to see me?” He keeps his hand extended, even when I don’t automatically reach to take it.
The only thing my brain can currently process isoh my god, of course he’s freaking Odin.
He drops his hand back to his side without looking bothered by my rudeness in not shaking it. He has the shoulders of a linebacker, arms defined even beneath leather, and his t-shirt reveals the boxes of his abs beneath. This? This is noboy. This is a straight up, raw, beast of a man. The thought sends a shiver down my spine and heat that nearly shocks me senseless, storms my blood and pools in my belly. I’m hit hard with a wave of insta-lust and pure feminine appreciation for the finely honed weapon of a body before me.
“You seem to know who I am and exactly where to find me, but I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea who you are. Gonna give me a hint?”
He wasn’t what I expected in any way, but it’s his smile, so ready and kind that undoes me.
“I’m engaged to your son.Wasengaged.”
