Page 35 of Scornful

"Doesn't matter if you planned it. Matters that it's happening." He drops his cigarette, grinding it out under his boot. "When Fenrir finds out, there's nothing I can do to protect you. Nothing anyone can do."

I know he's right.

I've known it from the moment I kissed Astrid in that massage room. "What are you gonna do?" I ask, bracing for his answer.

Tor studies me, his expression unreadable. "Nothing," he says finally. "For now. But brother, you need to think with your head, not your dick. Especially with all this Patriot shit going down."

Relief washes through me, followed quickly by shame at putting him in this position. "I appreciate that."

"Don't," he says sharply. "Just be careful. And for fuck's sake, be more discreet. You're practically broadcasting it."

I nod, taking the advice.. Tor's right—I've been sloppy. Dangerous, given what we just learned inkirkja.

"I've gotta head out," I say, checking my watch. Almost nine-thirty. "Early shift tomorrow."

Tor doesn't look convinced, but he nods. "Watch your back, brother. And hers."

I head to my bike, the weight of Tor's warning heavy on my shoulders.

The ride to the cabin should clear my head, but all I can think about is Astrid waiting for me.

Every mile takes me further from the clubhouse and deeper into whatever I’m doing with her.

I shouldn't be doing this, should text her right now, call it off.

But my hands grip the handlebars tighter, engine growling beneath me as I push toward Route 319.

The smart move would be turning around, but when it comes to her, I stopped making smart moves the moment I kissed her in that massage room.

The cabin is dark when I pull up, the only light coming from the moon hanging heavy in the October sky.

It's the only thing I own outright, and being a man who never got handed anything in his life, it took a lot of work for me to get here.

I check my surroundings carefully before getting off my bike, hand resting on the gun at my hip.

In times like these, I have to watch my back.

No one else is here so I unlock the door and step inside, flipping on a single lamp in the main room.

The cabin is small but comfortable—a main room with a fireplace, a tiny kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom in the back.

I've crashed here more than once over the years when I needed space to think.

I check my phone.

No response from Astrid to my text about meeting here.

Maybe she didn't see it.

Hell, maybe she changed her mind.

I'm about to call her when headlights flash through the window.

I move to the side, peeking out carefully.

Relief floods through me when I recognize her car.

She looks nervous as she approaches the cabin, glancing over her shoulder like she expects someone to jump out of the shadows.

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