Page 11 of One Stolen Night with Her Orc

Shaking my head, no to killing, but also how is any of this happening?? “I never thought I would be rid of him. Each time he said, ‘one more job,’ my hopes were dashed. I’ve become a thief because of him. I dropped out of school because of him.”

I can’t control the tears that flow down my cheeks. Heaving, trying to get a breath, I’ve completely come apart at the seams.

Koru wraps his huge arms around me, shushing into my hair. He pulls me onto his lap on the ground, body and arms encasing me in his comfort and protection. The kind of care I haven’t had in what feels like so long. His fingers caress up and down my arm. Pressure soothing the fragile parts of me. His heart beats against my body, telling me with each beat that I’m safe.

Chapter 8

Koru

“It’s been three days!” I try not to shout in front of my customers. Really, I try. But Bjorn is driving me bananas.

“Three days!” Gordon shouts at me from across the room, his stein held high in his tentacled hand. I wave a hand at him, unwilling to take the time to explain that I’m not cheering. He drinks his beer and goes back to his game of cribbage with Skerr.

“Yeah, and she’s fragile. Giving her time and space is the responsible, mature thing to do.” He sips his beer like this is normal. Like we’re shooting the breeze, not deciding my mate’s fate.

“Fine, but you’re covering for me. I have something to do.” I remove my leather apron and toss it to him. Bjorn frowns.

“As long as it doesn’t involve Poppy.” He pops thep’s of her name. It’s annoying. I want to punch him, but there are too many customers. I can’t afford any bad publicity in this small town where gossip travels faster than a moose in rut.

“It doesn’t. Happy Hour doesn’t start until four, don’t start early. Remember, Gordon can’t have tonight’s special, it has fish. And Flint is allergic to green things. Oh, and no drinking on the job.” I take his truck keys from where they sit next to him on the bar top, spin them around my finger.

“Be gentle with the old girl,” Bjorn warns as I walk out. I flip him the bird in response. “Who the hell is allergic to green things? That can’t be real.” I hear him mutter under his breath as the door shuts behind me. As long as he doesn’t burn the place down, I’m sure everything will be fine.

The last ferry of the night arrives at the island at six thirty. I picked her out of the small crowd immediately. It wasn’t hard to see the similarities between her and Poppy. She grunted at my “hello,” and that was all the conversation we needed. Once she’s in the truck, I drive straight to Bjorn’s apartment.

“I appreciate you coming here for Poppy,” I say. I catch her nod from the corner of my eye, but she doesn’t say anything. Her set jawline shows her determination. She and Poppy look so much alike, and yet are so different. Addy smells like clean linen and resentment. She has none of the warmth and wildness that radiates out of Poppy. That’s okay, she doesn’t have to like me. She just needs to be safe with Poppy.

“Here we are,” I try again as I park in front of the large brick building. No answer but the slamming of her door as she hops out of the truck. Okay. We walk to Bjorn’s door in silence. I thought about asking her to give Poppy a message for me. But that can only backfire. Besides, this is all the message I can send her: that I’ll do anything for her happiness and safety.

A tearful “thank you,” is all she says to me as I walk away.

She waits until I’m around the corner and out of sight before she knocks. The squeals of delight are all I need to hear before I walk back down the stairs to the truck.

It feels like a lame apology, but it’s all I could think of. Leaving the sisters be, I go back to the brewery to relieve Bjorn and sulk at being alone.

“I thought I told you to leave Poppy alone.” Bjorn’s words are a slap to the face as I walk through the door. Happy Hour is done. Most of the folks still here will eat the special, unless they’re Gordon, who will just keep drinking and playing his card game. There are a couple of glances darting at us, probably taking bets as to if tonight will end in a fistfight between brothers. “I sent a message to Grev, he should be here soon.”

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