Page 9 of Odin
“Are you fucking serious?” he roars, but his anger isn’t directed at me. “What kind of nonsense is that?”
I hang my head, utterly ashamed at my own spinelessness. He sees it and tilts my chin up.
“I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about someone who demands that another person give up their dreams, especially when they’ve already worked so hard to achieve them. Man or woman, that shit isn’t right.”
He has no idea when he talks about hard work. I waitressed full time. I studied until my eyes felt like they were going to bleed. I barely slept foryears, and that was just to get the scholarship in the first place. Once I got to college, I worked doubly as hard.
“Preston had this job, and the guys who worked there were all the two point two kids, white picket fence but actually a mansion and fancy cars kind of guys. Their wives didn’t work. It was a pride point. Preston wanted to provide. I agreed to take a year off to plan the wedding and focus on that, but I did always intend on going back, and he knew that. It wasn’t some secret subplot.” I blink back at Odin, refusing to lay the blame for my problems at someone else’s feet. “I still had to agree. It’s as much my problem as his.”
“You can go back now,” he insists.
“No!” The word comes out far too sharp and panicked. “I can’t. It’s too late to register. By not registering, I’ve lost my scholarship. I don’t have the funds to put into a whole year of tuition right now.”
He growls low in his throat. “What else?”
It’s the last demand that I’d ever be inclined to answer if someone else was asking it, but for some reason, his rough tone with all the emotion he can’t keep from bleeding into it, evokes a strange brand of honesty in me.
“I have a tattoo on my hip. I’m going to have to get it covered up.”
“Please tell me it’s not his name.”
“Yeah,” I groan. “It is.”
He drops me.
Not drops me,dropsme, but he pushes me up so that the rope slackens on the hook, whips it off, and then lowers me to the ground. I tug my wrists out of the loose bindings myself, then bend down and grab for my shoe and slip into it so I’m not so off balance.
“There’s a guy upstairs who runs a tattoo shop in town. They’re probably still open, even if Crow isn’t there. He has other artists working. I know he doesn’t have a client right now, because if he did, he’d be tattooing, and he’s upstairs with his old lady. I’m taking you straight up there and we’re getting that name covered up.Immediately.”
I don’t ask him what if I don’t want to, because if I told him that I didn’t, he’d relent. If I told him I wanted to go with laser removal, he’d probably look up the closest place and give me the number, even though I’m more than capable of it myself.
“What does his woman do?” It’s slightly ironic that Odin has a problem with his son bossing me around, but not with calling someonehis old lady.
“Tarynn. She’s a stylist. Owns a shop right near Crow’s.”
“Fabulous. Do you think she’d be up for some late night hair dyeing after?” It’s a joke. I’m not expecting to erase my old life in a single night.
Odin grabs onto it and runs with it. And I do meanruns. Full on, balls to the wall sprinting. “I can ask her. She’s a sweetheart. She’d probably be happy to help.”
“No! I was just joking. I didn’t come here for a makeover.” We both know what I came for, and now doing it feels ten shades of wrong. I turn to stare at the camera. “Isn’t it supposed to be flashing if it’s taking photos?”
Suddenly, this great big man appears flustered. “Fuck. I did the settings right, but forgot about that.”
“It’s okay. If they turned out, they turned out. But… I don’t really need them anymore. The urge to send petty photos to my ex is fading with every passing minute and maturity is kicking back in. I think booze is supposed to work the opposite way, but maybe I just needed some time.” I spin around so I don’t have to face him when I give him my full confession. It only feels right. “Meeting you is part of it too. You’re not just a thing to use for vengeance. You’re a person with feelings. I knew that. It’s just… sort of…easierto dismiss before you meet someone.”
“Did you think I’d be some crass, dirty, whoreson of a biker with no morals, only too happy to fuck anything that moves?”
“No!” I’m absolutely horrified until I jerk my head up and realize he’s struggling not to laugh. He’s only kidding. I hope.
“Well?” he holds out his hands, palms up.
I don’t answer, because it’s not so far from the truth.
“Do you want to get that name covered up?” he glances at my hip.
I bite the inside of my cheek until it hurts. I need the burst of pain to stay grounded, and maybe to hold back the tears I want to cry again for no reason at all except that all my emotions are starting to thaw. A wave of gratitude washes over me. He’s not being pushy. He’s just trying to help a total stranger who showed up completely distraught, two shades above a total disaster.
All I can do is nod, but at least I do it emphatically, and that’s all the encouragement Odin needs. He waits until I have my shoes on securely and my purse gathered back up before he motions for me to follow him up out of the basement.
