After seventeen years, I was about to meet my children. Fuck what Jody wanted. These kids were mine.
I parked up, and the teen straightened. He looked my Hog over and seemed unimpressed. I was slightly put off. What type of teenager didn’t get excited at a Harley?
“What do you want?” the kid demanded. There was a strong accent, and I didn’t recognise it.
“I’m looking for your mom.” He flinched, and I wondered what I’d said wrong. “Look, I don’t wish to cause trouble, but for seventeen years, you’ve haunted me. I just wanted to meet you.”
Anger radiated from the boy. “Lars!” he bellowed.
“That makes you Oskar. My son,” I whispered.
Sheer disgust and hate crossed Oskar’s face. “Asshole, I’m not related to you.”
“I’m aware you had another dad, but…”
“What’s up?” Lars asked, and I was shocked stupid. This kid was definitely mine. Height, build, looks, holy crap, it was like looking at a younger me. Oskar must take care of Jody’s family.
“I don’t want trouble. It seemed important your mom got this key, and I wanted to meet you,” I said, and Lars turned to me.Unlike Oskar, who was regarding me with sheer hate and anger, Lars didn’t seem bothered.
“Oskar, har du det godt?”(Oskar, are you okay?) Lars asked as he approached his twin.
What damn language was that?
Oskar shook his head and spewed a load of what I assumed were insults, judging by the venom in his voice. Lars replied and reached out, gripping his shoulder.
“What’s up?” another teen demanded as he arrived. Well, that settled it. Oskar definitely took after Jody’s side. This kid was the spitting image of Oskar.
“Viggo, hold Mor og Laila indenfor,”(Viggo, keep Mom and Laila inside), Lars ordered, and it was certainly an order.
It was infuriating that I couldn’t understand them.
“What’s the drama?” two further kids asked, appearing. Holy crap, Jody had been busy. Five children?
“Jerrit, Henrik, go in now,” Oskar directed.
“But I want to—”
“Do as you’re told,” Lars snapped, keeping a close eye on me.
The kids lined up and eyed me with degrees of suspicion, dislike, and anger.
To my surprise, another boy came around the corner. “Who’s that?” he insisted.
“Jesper! You little shit, I’ll kill you!” a girl screamed from somewhere in the house.
“What did you do to Laila?” Oskar demanded.
“Nothing,” Jesper replied and stubbed his toe in the grass.
“Make that slowly!” the girl, I assumed to be Laila, screeched. “I’m going to gut you alive, boil your innards, and then feed them to your brothers!”
“Wow. You really pissed her off!” Lars commented, ignoring me.
“Sounds like she has Jody’s temper,” I joked, trying to break the ice and find a way to communicate. Oskar continued to stare in hate while Lars—quite simply—didn’t care.
“What would you know, loser?” Oskar retorted.
“Laila! What the hell?” Jody shrieked.
