Page 26 of Misery (Raiders of Valhalla MC: New Blood #7)

"Girlfriend?" Somehow this makes it worse. "He had a girlfriend while stalking me?"

"She was a cover, and she didn't know until today." He shifts slightly. "She's the reason we found your father in time. She gave us Thiago's location. Helped us get in."

"Where is she now?"

"Gone. Starting over somewhere else. Trying to forget she loved a monster."

The word hangs between us. Monster. Is that what they both are? Or were?

"Show me," I say suddenly. "Your surveillance. I want to see what you wrote."

"Elfe—"

"No. I need to know. Need to see the difference for myself."

He takes the drive back, pulls out his phone, and accesses the files. Hands it to me.

I scroll through.

Reports, clinical at first.

'Subject left apartment at 8:22 AM. Arrived at Bubba's at 9:15. No incidents.'

But as the months progress, they change.

'E painted for three hours tonight. Something violent. Reds and blacks. She was crying. Wanted to go to her but maintained position.'

'E had panic attack behind bar. Managed it herself. Proud of her.'

'Three Los Coyotes scouts at Bubba's. Eliminated before E's shift ended. She never knew they were there.'

That one makes me stop. "You killed people when you were watching me?"

"Three times. Groups that got too close. That showed too much interest." His voice is matter-of-fact. "You never knew because I made sure you never knew."

I keep reading.

The reports become less clinical, more personal.

'E smiled today. Real smile, not the fake one she uses for customers. Worth everything to see that.'

'Want to tell her she's safe. Want to tell her everything. Can't. Orders. But mostly because she'd run and then who would protect her?'

The last entry is from the night before the first time we kissed:

'I'm fucked. Completely fucked. This isn't surveillance anymore. This is something else. Something that's going to destroy everything. Don't care. She's worth the destruction.'

I hand the phone back. "You fell in love with me."

"Yes."

"While watching me without my knowledge."

"Yes."

"That's fucked up."

"Yes."

"But you never would have acted on it? If the attack hadn't happened?"

He's quiet for a long moment. "I don't know. I want to say no, that I would have stayed in the shadows forever. But watching you fight so hard to be normal, to heal, to create beauty from horror... I don't know if I could have stayed away forever."

"So, you're a stalker who might have become more."

"Yes."

"And Thiago was a stalker who definitely became more."

"He became everything I was afraid of becoming."

We stand there in the parking lot, two drives in my hands, the weight of truth between us.

"I need to see my father," I finally say.

"I know."

"And then we need to talk. Really talk. About everything."

"I know that too."

"I might not forgive you."

"I know."

"But I might."

Something flickers in his eyes. Hope maybe. "I'll take might."

We go back inside.

Dad's still on the couch, Gwen finishing up with his wounds.

The missing fingers make me nauseous again but I swallow it down.

He's alive. That's what matters.

"How bad?" I ask Gwen directly.

"I’d guess three broken ribs. Severe lacerations. Concussion. Lost three fingers on the left hand—pinky, ring, and middle. Multiple contusions. Dehydration. Blood loss." She lists it all clinically. "He needs a hospital but refuses to go."

"Hospitals ask questions," Dad says. "Can't answer them."

"You need proper medical treatment," Starla argues.

"Gwen's proper enough."

"Dad—"

"I'm not going to a hospital. End of discussion." He looks at me with his good eye. "I'm sorry, baby girl. Sorry you got dragged into this. Sorry I couldn't protect you better."

"That's my line," I tell him. "I'm sorry for what I said at the bar. I was cruel—"

"You were honest. Maybe I needed to hear it." He reaches for my hand with his good one. "This life, it takes things. Takes time. Takes attention. Sometimes takes blood. But it shouldn't have taken so much from you."

"It didn't take everything."

"No?"

I look around the room.

At my family, damaged but alive.

At the club members who fought for us.

At Oskar, standing guard even now.

Runes approaches, president patch catching the light. "We need to discuss Los Coyotes. Thiago's death changes things."

"They'll want revenge," Magnus says.

"Maybe. Or maybe they'll be relieved. He was unstable. Bad for business." Runes looks at me. "Either way, you might need to disappear for a while. Until we know which way they'll jump."

"No."

Everyone turns to stare at me.

"No," I repeat. "I'm done running. Done hiding. Done being moved around like cargo. If Los Coyotes want me, they can come. But I'm not disappearing."

"Elfe—" Oskar starts.

"My decision. My life. My choice." I stand, still holding the two drives. "I've had two men making decisions for me, about me, without my input. That ends now. Whatever happens next, I decide."

"And what do you decide?" Runes asks.

I think about it.

About the violence that's touched everything.

About the lies and how I was being watched and twisted love.

About my father's missing fingers and my mother's bandaged head.

About Oskar's confession and Thiago's death.

"I decide to live," I say finally. "Here. In my home. With my family. At my job. Painting my art. If Los Coyotes come, we'll deal with it. If they don't, even better. But I'm not running anymore."

"That's risky—"

"Everything's risky. Hiding didn't keep me safe. Running wouldn't either. At least here I have backup."

Dad squeezes my hand. "That's my girl."

"Stubborn like her father," Starla adds, but there's pride in it.

"We'll need to increase security," Runes says. "At least until we know Los Coyotes' intentions."

"Fine. But I work. I paint. I live." I look at Oskar. "And I get to decide who's in my life and who isn't."

He nods, understanding.

This is about him too.

About us.

About whether there's an us at all after everything.

"I need some air," I say. "And time. To think."

"I'll come with you," Helle offers.

"No. Alone. Actually alone. No watching. No following. Just me."

"Elfe—" multiple voices start.

"One hour. I'll stay on the clubhouse grounds, but I need space."

They don't like it but they let me go.

I walk outside, around the building to the small garden area nobody really uses besides Aziza in the summer.

I sit on a rusted bench under a dead tree.

Fitting.

The two drives are warm in my hands.

Two versions of violation.

Two men who claimed to love me while taking away my privacy, my choice.

But only one who killed the other to keep me safe.

Only one who handed me the evidence of his crimes.

Only one who stood still while I decided his fate.

I should destroy both drives. Burn them. Pretend none of it happened.

Instead, I pocket them.

Evidence. Truth. Weapons in the future if I need them.

My phone buzzes.

It’s a text from Oskar:

Your hour isn't up. Just wanted you to know Ivar's asking for you. When you're ready.

He's respecting the boundary. The bare minimum, but still.

I text back:

Coming.

When I return, Dad's been moved to one of the back rooms.

It’s cleaner, quieter.

He's propped up on pillows, looking more human even with the damage that was done to him.

"Hey, baby girl."

"Hey, Dad."

"We're going to be okay," he says. Not a question.

"Yeah. Different, but okay."

"Different isn't always bad."

"No. Sometimes it's just different."

He shifts, winces. "Fenrir’s boy, Oskar. He loves you."

"I know."

"Do you love him?"

The question I've been avoiding. "Yeah, I think so."

"I see."

"How do you forgive something like this?" I ask. "The watching. The lying."

"Same way your mother forgave me for putting the club first. Same way you'll forgive me for not protecting you better." He meets my eyes with his good one. "You decide if the person they are now is worth the pain they caused then. If who they're becoming matters more than who they were."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then you walk away. But at least you know."

A knock at the door. Oskar. "Los Coyotes are calling for a meet. Tomorrow. They want to discuss Thiago's death."

"And?"

"And whether his debts died with him."

Meaning me. Whether they still want me… but am I one of his debts, or just an obsession he was trying to own?

"When?" Runes asks from behind him.

"Noon. Neutral ground. The old truck stop on Highway 50."

"Could be a trap."

"Could be. But they're following protocol. Asking for parley, not demanding." Oskar looks at me. "They might be willing to let this die with Thiago."

"Or they might want to finish what he started," I counter.

"Only one way to find out."

"I'm going," I say.

"No," everyone says at once.

"Yes. This is about me. I should be there."

"That's not how it works—" Runes starts.

"Then change how it works. I'm the one they wanted. I should get a say in how this ends."

They don't like it. But I can see them thinking. Weighing options.

"She has a point," Magnus says finally. "Her presence might show strength. That we're not hiding her."

"Or it might provoke them," Tor argues.

"Everything might provoke them. At least this way I have some control."

"I'll think about it," Runes says. Which from him is almost a yes.

The room clears slowly.

Members going home or to guard positions.

Mom and Helle stay with Dad, and Oskar stays with me.

"You don't have to—"

"I know," he says. "But until you tell me to leave, I'm here."

"Even if I never forgive you?"

"Yeah"

"That's stupid."

"Probably."

We sit in silence that's not comfortable but not hostile either.

It's something in between. Like the two of us.

"Tell me about Eleyna," I say. "Thiago's girlfriend."

He tells me. About her finding the room. Her fury. Her help. Her revenge.

"She shot him? I thought you said she loved him?"

"Yeah, I think it was poetic in a way."

"Maybe. I feel bad for her. Love isn't supposed to hurt that much."

"No. But it does anyway."

More silence. "Did you really fall in love with me while watching? Or was it after?"

"Started during. The watching. But real love, the kind that changes you? That was after. When I got to know you more, when we were spending time together."

I force out a laugh. "So, you love me for my trauma response?"

"I love you for your strength. Your refusal to break.

Your artistic spirit. The way you hum when you're concentrating.

How you always put exactly two sugars in your coffee.

How you look when you sleep without nightmares.

" He pauses. "I know things about you I shouldn't.

Can't unknow them. But everything I know makes me love you more. "

"That's fucked up."

"I know."

"But also maybe romantic? In a really twisted way?"

"I'll take twisted romantic over just twisted."

I almost smile. "I haven't decided about us. If there is an us."

"I know."

"But I haven't decided against it either."

"I'll take that too."

My phone buzzes. Unknown number.

My blood freezes until I read it:

This is Eleyna. Using a burner phone. Just wanted you to know you're free now. We both are. Destroy this number after reading.

I delete it, but I save the message in my memory.

Two women, connected by a monster, both free.

"I'm tired," I tell Oskar. "But I don't want to go home. Not yet."

"There's a room upstairs. Clean. Safe. Yours if you want it."

"Will you stay?"

"Always."