1
Loki Ward
The most significantthing younger me had noticed when I’d picked up a hand grenade for the first time was how easily it sat in my palm. My fingers had curled around the old-fashioned bumpy green shell. The second thing I’d noticed—the power behind such a compact device—came later, when I was eighteen. I threw my first grenade at three drug dealers who were poaching our clients. The explosion had rocked me off my feet, sending me flying onto my ass. Odin had laughed as he yanked me upright and smacked me on the back.
“Good job, boy,” he’d said gruffly, and I’d glowed under his praise, something he didn’t give often.
I’d been naïve back then, a young man searching for his place in the big, bad world of bikers, and I’d quickly found a home with my adoptive father in the Norse Lords MC.
Now? I fucking enjoyed watching men being flung in the air from an explosion. It was the preferable option to getting physical with them.
I bounced the grenade in my hand, grinning with glee and humming to a tune in my head as I danced my way through the logs tied and stacked around the shipyard south of Pleasant Beach. The report of gunshots echoed through the air and a few shouts joined it, including Modi’s, our sergeant at arms.
“What the fuck are you doing, Loki?” he yelled, the fury in his voice ringing across the thick logs that were ready to be shipped. To the left of me, straps to one of the stacks had broken, and logs littered the ground. “Get the fuck back here, you insane fucker.”
I laughed, doing my version of a tap dance that wouldn’t have won me any awards when I was a kid. Mom had tried to push me into any kind of dance class she could, just to keep me away from the biker life Dad had. It never worked. The only dancing I enjoyed these days was stripping to sexy music for Thor.
Today we were facing off with the Hellhound Souls MC, a nobody club that had instated a new president, who thought he could take over our position of power on the West Coast of the United States. Not going to happen. Not today. Not any day. We had allies these fuckers would have wet dreams about, including the Irish mob boss who ran the East Coast, Sloan Killough.
We had only come to the shipyard to pick up the MDMA from our regular supplier, Costello, but we were ambushed by the Souls instead. Costello had taken off like the dickless SOB he was. Hell if I knew where he’d gone.
There was a heavy smell in the air of wet wood mixed with smoke from a recent rain shower, a strange combination that had my blood pumping and skin buzzing. Soon, blood would be added to the perfume and I could already taste it on my tongue.
One of the Souls, with a nasty gash on his face and a crooked nose, peeked his head around a stack of logs, aiming his gun toward me. But someone got to him first—a bullet pierced his forehead and sent him flying to his back. I glanced to my right and winked at Thor, crouched behind his pallet of chopped trees.
He shook his head in exasperation, his short blond hair glinting under the last rays of the afternoon summer sun. I didn’t miss his grin behind his sexy beard. But it was his light blue eyes that did it for me, bright and clear and holding promises I couldn’t wait to discover. “Crazy idiot,” he said, loud enough for me to hear. He tilted his chin up, the black ink of the tattoo on his neck stark against his tanned skin. I couldn’t see the design from here, but I knew it by heart. I’d traced it with my tongue enough times. “Find cover, Loki. Now.”
“Fuckablecrazy idiot to you.” With a wink and deep bow, I finally yanked the pin on the grenade and spun, adding an original Loki flare to my dance as I threw it in the general direction of the Souls. I jumped toward Thor, and he caught me in his arms and covered my body with his as the explosion rocked the shipyard closer to the ocean, stacks of wood collapsing under the force.
Thor wassucha romantic.
I stole a look at him and smiled seductively. “Hi.”
Dirt-smudged cheeks didn’t make Thor any less handsome. I preferred him like this—rugged andmanlyin his leather jacket, with the Norse Lords MC Viking skull and his Vice President patch stuck above it. I ran my fingers over the embroidered words, tracing each letter as though it was the most important thing in the world.
“You’ll get yourself killed,” Thor grumbled, but his amused smile made my heart soar. He swiped his knuckles over my cheek. “And Odin wouldn’t forgive us if something happened to you.”
I rolled us over so I was on top. Our relationship was about more than sex. Thorcaredabout me, that much was obvious, even if the macho man couldn’t confess it to himself. “Just admit you were worried about me.” I popped a kiss on his lips, and his eyes widened. He shoved me off. Falling onto my back, I cackled while he sat up on his knees, peering out from around the logs to check the damage I’d caused.
“The cops will get calls soon. We need to leave. Now.” He made a hand signal at Modi, who saluted him, the thick silver rings on his fingers glinting under the light. Modi was a handsome son of a bitch, and if I wasn’t fucking Thor, I might have given the Korean man a go. Black hair, pale skin, and eyes so dark they were almost black, he gave off some scary vibes when he wanted to.
He spun around to talk to a few guys behind him while Thor turned to me.
“Let’s go.”
I pouted. “We didn’t get all the drugs yet.”
“We don’t have time.” Thor grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet at the same time as he stood. He peered around the logs again. Gunfire rang out, and a bullet hit the log in front of Thor’s face, barely missing him. I tugged him back, and he gave me a nod over his shoulder in thanks. “Fuck. We need to get out of here.”
More of our brothers and sisters gathered behind Modi, but we were stuck. The Souls’ bikes blocked the gates that led out of the shipyard and the motherfuckers surrounded us. We’d come earlier than the meetup time to pick up the goods and that was the only reason we had the majority of the drugs stored in the van before it all went to hell.
“Syn!” Thor shouted, earning the attention of our treasurer, who was crouched behind Modi.
Syn glanced toward us, brushing his dark hair off his face and tilting his wide chin to let Thor know he’d heard him. His leather jacket pulled around his slender, yet muscular, body as he leaned forward, a Glock clutched in his thin hand.
“Van. Now. Crash through those bikes. Take Forseti and Hel with you. Hit any of those fuckers on the way out.” He waved toward the gates, where Souls were hiding behind shipping containers near their bikes—a spot that was a surefire way to get their babies destroyed.
Syn gave Thor a thumbs up and spun to speak to Forseti and Hel. They talked among themselves. Hel brushed her thick black ringlet bangs off her forehead. She had her hair tied up at the back of her head, but it was long enough to still touch her shoulders.
