Page 43 of Thor
“Morgan, how long have you and Thor known each other?” Loki asked, as though he knew I needed Morgan’s attention off me so I could comprehend what I’d heard. Morgan was happy to tell Loki all about our past, from when we were kids.
“Did he ever tell you about the time I dared him to kiss Liza Blue?” Morgan laughed.
I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face, but that only caused Loki to ask questions.
We spent the next three hours talking, and I learned a lot about Morgan that morning. I’d envisioned this man that struggled to get around, but Morgan took his paraplegia and conquered it. In reality, I shouldn’t have expected any less. If anyone could turn it around and make it another part of himself, it was Morgan.
I listened, unable to quite join in on the conversation as I contemplated Morgan’s earlier words. I’d hated myself for what had happened, thought they never wanted to see me again, and now I knew that was wrong. I hadn’t come across anyone but Felix who was angry to see me.
The Colonel was an entirely different story. He’d always been that way, always thought I’d never amount to anything. Crispin and Trent were the perfect sons, the kind who followed him into joining the military. Then there was me, who never liked going to church with the family and who had no interest in being in any of the armed forces. Of course he was still mad at me.
By the time we were ready to leave Morgan’s house, I felt rejuvenated, as though I was walking on air.
“Will you visit again?” Morgan asked when he led us to the front door, his face hopeful.
I turned back toward him and nodded. “When I get time. I’m the vice pres of the Lords, so I have a lot of work to do.”
Odin always had me on the go, dealing with club business while also running the Night Garden, the Lords’ strip club on the southside. Loki worked as the bar manager there, too, and we’d made the club the most successful one in Pleasant Beach.
“Maybe I can come see you? It’s been a long time since I’ve had a vacation, and Sidney would love to see California. I always promise him we’ll go, but we’ve never had the chance.” Morgan laid his hands in his lap and grinned, expression still hopeful, like he expected me to reject him.
“Fuck yeah.” I crouched in front of him. “I want you to meet my brothers. They’re good people and they’ve kept me sane.”
He nodded eagerly, grinning. “I’d like that.” He ran his hand over one of his knees and sighed. “You won’t be embarrassed by me?” It was the first time I saw a sign of uncertainty in him today, and I gritted my teeth.
“Are you kidding? No.” I rested my hand on his shoulder, close to his neck, and squeezed. “You’ve known me a lot longer than they have, Morgs. You’re my brother, too.”
He nodded, slumping in relief. “Okay. Keep in contact. Loki, it was nice to meet you.”
Loki and Morgan shook hands, and we said our goodbyes. A part of me didn’t want to leave. It’d been so long since I’d seen him, and I’d dreaded the moment we would meet again, but now I knew he didn’t hate me and had nothing left but love for my old friend.
He stayed at the door and waved at us as we were riding away, and we returned the gesture until we drove out of the street. I revved the throttle of the bike when I got onto the main road of Wittstock and opened her up, shooting forward. I heard Loki shout, and I laughed.
We passed a popular beach with a crowd of locals and went along Main Street slower than we had the highway.
He followed me all the way to the arcade and turned off the Ducati when he parked beside me. Glaring, he slammed his helmet on the gas tank in front of where he sat and brushed his blond curls off his face. “What was that?”
“That was me seeing if you could keep up.” I winked at him and slid off the bike, buckling my helmet to the handlebars. “Come on.”
“Where are we?” he asked, throwing his leg off the Ducati and placing his helmet like mine.
“Arcade.” I grinned over my shoulder to him.
When I’d first met Loki at seven, there was one thing I remembered vividly: he’d been innocent to life and what it was like growing up around a normal family. His childhood had consisted of bikers and violence, and from what Odin had said, Loki’s mother tried to give him a different life, but it never panned out. He’d been born to be a biker like his father, and as soon as Odin took him in, his future was sealed.
“Why are we here?” His brows dipped, and he glanced around Main Street, to the antique store a few shops down and then over to the small public library. Wittstock was the definition of a small town, where everyone knew each other and there were only businesses owned by locals. There was a cozy vibe, and while I loved Pleasant Beach, there was nothing quite like home.
I headed to the front door, jerking it open and moving aside so he could step in first. The arcade had all kinds of gaming machines, from first-person shooters to racing consoles, and Loki’s eyes widened.
“You usually come to arcades to play video games.” I threw open my arms and gave him spirit fingers, and he glared at me, crossing his arms over his leather jacket. It wasn’t as cold today, but that didn’t stop him from whining about the temps last night. I didn’t think it was too bad, but I’d turned on the heater to make him happy. I’d remembered my reaction to Pleasant Beach’s heat when I’d first rocked up into town. Washington felt like an entirely different planet some days.
“I know that. I’m not an idiot.” He huffed.
“Come on.” I grasped his wrist and dragged him into the arcade. The man behind the counter—a tall, skinny guy with black hair, makeup, and clothes, and piercings in his nose, bottom lip, and right eyebrow—nodded at us when we walked in. I dragged Loki over to him and yanked out my wallet from my back pocket.
“How do you get tokens these days?” I asked. Back in Pleasant Beach, the upscale places had a machine where you could transfer money onto a card, but Wittstock had always been behind the times.
The attendant picked up a card and flashed it at me. “With this, buddy. You’ll have to come to me to refill it. If you put fifty on it, you got an extra ten worth of tokens. Thirty gets you an extra four.”
