Page 100 of Bad Luck, Hard Love
His body tenses slightly beneath mine. We both know what I'm really asking about. Who I'm asking about.
“When you're ready, Raze has him secured. He'll keep until you decide.”
My mind flashes to Terrance—zip-tied and bloody, being loaded into that van. Is he in pain? Afraid? Does he feel even a fraction of what he made me feel? The thought should satisfy me, but it just leaves me hollow.
“And if I'm never ready?”
Thor's fingers pause in their gentle tracing along my arm. “Then he stays where he is. Forever.”
No ultimatums, no pressure. Just the steady assurance that my choice matters. That I matter.
“I need to see him. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But soon.”
“Okay,” Thor says simply, as if I'd asked for a glass of water instead of a confrontation with the monster who nearly destroyed us both.
A nurse appears in the doorway, clipboard in hand. She gasps at finding me curled against Thor's side, but her professional mask quickly returns.
“Time for pain management and vitals, Mr. Erikson,” she says, already moving toward the IV stand.
I watch silently as the nurse adjusts Thor's medication, the clear liquid dripping into his veins. She checks his vitals with efficiency, making notes on her clipboard before adjusting his blanket with a small smile.
“Try not to move around too much,” she advises, giving me a pointed look. “Those stitches need to heal properly.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Thor replies with that charming half-smile that somehow works despite his battered face.
When the door finally clicks shut behind her, I shift carefully to look at him, suddenly curious about something I've never thought to ask before.
“Erikson,” I say, testing the name on my tongue. “That's your real name?”
His eyebrow lifts slightly. “You sound surprised.”
“I just realized I've only ever known you as Thor. Your road name.” I trace my finger along the edge of his hospital bracelet where his full name is printed. “Soren Erikson.”
“Soren Thor Erikson,” he corrects, his voice softening. “Thor's my middle name. The club just ran with it.”
“So, you really are like a Viking?” I can't help the small smile that forms.
“Yeah,” he laughs, the sound warming something cold inside me. “Dad's side of the family. Straight from Norway, four generations back. Mom used to joke that's why I was born so damn big—Viking blood.”
I try to picture him as a child—already too large for his age, towering over classmate. A permanent scowl on his face. The image makes me smile wider.
“Your parents,” I say, realizing how little I know about this man who's risked everything for me. “Are they still...?”
“Dad died when I was fourteen. Heart attack.” His fingers resume their gentle patterns on my arm. “Mom's still around. Lives in Oregon now with my stepdad. Good guy, treats her right.”
“Do they know? About the club, about what you do?”
Thor's chest rises with a deep breath. “Mom knows enough. Not the details. Just that I found my family when I needed one.”
“What about your family?” he asks gently. “You never talk about them.”
The question catches me off guard. It's been so long since anyone asked about my life before Terrance. “My parents died in a car accident when I was nineteen. No siblings. Just an aunt who sent birthday cards until she passed a few years ago.”
“I'm sorry,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my forehead.
“It's why Terrance was able to...” I swallow hard, the words sticking in my throat. “There was no one to notice when I started disappearing. No one to question the bruises or the excuses. No one other than Minny, and she was so busy starting her family that it took her a while to realize he’d cut us off from each other.”
His arm tightens fractionally around me. “You have me now and the club. You'll never be alone like that again.”
