Page 10 of Scornful

"No thanks needed," I tell her. "I just wanted to help you, princess."

Her eyes search mine, looking for the lie, for the hidden agenda.

Finding none, her expression softens into something that makes my chest tighten.

"Still," she insists, "I owe you one."

I shake my head, about to tell her she owes me nothing, when the sound of a motorcycle engine cuts through the night.

We both turn to see Emil, Astrid's brother, pulling into the parking lot.

He kills the engine, giving us a curious look as he approaches.

His eyes dart from Astrid's bruised arm to my bare chest, then back to his sister's face, his expression going dark.

"What the fuck happened?" he demands, protective big brother mode engaged.

Astrid sighs. "Laken happened. He was waiting for me in the parking lot."

Emil's face contorts with rage. "That piece of shit. Where is he? I'll fucking kill him."

"Geirolf already took care of it," Astrid says quickly. "Laken won't be bothering me again."

Emil turns to me, an unreadable expression on his face. "Thanks, brother," he says after a moment, extending his hand. "I owe you for looking out for my sister."

I clasp his hand firmly. "No need. Just did what any brother would do."

But even as I say the words, I know they're not entirely true.

The way I feel right now—the protectiveness, the possessiveness—has nothing to do with being a brother.

Emil nods, then turns to Astrid, his arm sliding around her shoulders. "Come on, sis. Let's get you inside."

I watch as he leads her toward the entrance of Bubba's, her petite frame tucked against his side.

Before they reach the door, Astrid glances back at me over her shoulder, those sage green eyes finding mine in the darkness.

Something passes between us, and I’m not going to deny it.

I retrieve my cut from the bike handle, slipping it back on as I watch them disappear inside.

But as I take one last drag of my cigarette before crushing it under my boot, I can't deny that something has shifted tonight.

Seeing Astrid—really seeing her—has awakened something within me that I'm not sure I can control.

And that is a whole different kind of dangerous.

CHAPTER TWO

Astrid

The drive to my dad's house is mercifully short, which is good because Emil won't shut the fuck up about what happened with Laken in the parking lot.

"I should have been there," Emil growls, his knuckles white on the steering wheel of one of the club’s trucks. "I'd have ripped that asshole's head clean off his shoulders."

I roll my eyes, watching the familiar scenery fly past the passenger window. "Geirolf handled it. Laken's not going to be a problem anymore."

"Geirolf," Emil repeats, his tone unreadable. "Since when are you and Geirolf so buddy-buddy?"

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