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

CHAPTER FOUR

Oskar

The clubhouse is more chaotic than normal when we walk in through the doors.

Elfe's parents are on us before the door closes.

Starla pulls her daughter into a crushing hug while Ivar's eyes burn holes in me.

"Where the fuck were you?" Ivar's voice is controlled. Barely. "You disappeared with my daughter for fourteen hours."

"She was safe."

"That's not an answer."

I’m really not in the mood for his shit attitude today. "It's the only one you're getting."

His jaw clenches.

Road Captain for the Raiders of Valhalla MC means something.

It means respect, authority, but not over me. Not when it comes to her.

"Dad, stop." Elfe pulls herself from her mother's arms. "Oskar protected me. That's all that matters."

"Protected you where?" Starla demands. "We were worried sick."

I catch Emil watching from across the room.

My brother's expression is unreadable.

Saga's beside him, relief clear on her face at seeing Elfe safe.

The three dogs—Rex, Luna, and Odin—circle Elfe like they're checking she's unharmed.

"My place," I say simply. "Secure location. Off the grid."

"You have a place we don't know about?" Ivar's suspicion sharpens.

"Everyone needs a bolt-hole."

"And you took my daughter to yours without telling anyone?"

"I told Emil she was safe. That's all I needed to do. And for the record, at least my brother trusts me enough to know I’d never let anything happen to her."

"Like hell it is—"

"Enough." Runes' voice cuts through the tension. The president stands in the chapel doorway. "Kirkja. Now. Officers and full patches only."

,"But—" Starla starts.

"The girls are safe here. Prospects on the doors. We need to figure out our response." His eyes find mine. "Oskar, you're reporting first."

Emil falls into step beside me as we head for the chapel. "Interesting night?"

"Productive."

"That’s what we're calling it?" His voice lowers. "She's Ivar's daughter."

"I know who she is."

"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, looks like you've forgotten this is protection duty, not—"

"Not what?" I stop walking. Face him. "Say it."

"You know what I'm saying."

"She's under my protection. That's all you need to know."

"Is it? Because she's supposed to be living at my place. Under my roof. My security."

"Your security that let her get threatened at work? That security?"

His jaw tightens. "Los Coyotes are escalating beyond what anyone expected, and I can’t protect her when she’s at work. For fuck’s sake, she has prospects on her the entire time she’s there."

"And yet I killed two men yesterday. Funny, don’t you think? She needs experienced, dedicated protection when she’s away."

"That’s what you're calling yourself now? Dedicated protection?"

Elfe comes walking right up to me and catches my arm as I move to follow. "Be careful what you say."

Strange thing to warn me about. But the concern in her eyes makes my chest tight. "Always am."

"Liar," she whispers.

"Give me your phone," I say quietly. "They'll want to see the messages."

She hands it over without argument, fingers brushing mine. "Don't let my dad see the one about playing house. He'll lose it."

"I'll handle it."

Before I can respond, Runes calls out. "Today, gentlemen."

We file into the chapel.

The room fills quickly.

Runes at the head.

Magnus as Sergeant at Arms to his right. Ivar as Road Captain to his left.

Fenrir, my father, takes his position as the VP.

Tor, Dag, myself, and the others fill the remaining seats.

"I want a full report," Runes orders.

I lay it out clean.

The texts at Bubba's.

The two scouts I eliminated.

The continued threats during the drive to Panacea.

The messages this morning.

"They know she's with me," I finish. "They identified me as the Executioner. They're not backing down."

"Show me the messages," Magnus says.

I pull out Elfe's phone, handing it over. Watch faces darken as they read.

"'Little artist,'" Dag mutters. "They know about her paintings. Been watching that close."

"Or someone told them," Kraken suggests.

Silence. The possibility of inside information hangs like smoke.

"Not necessarily," Rio says. "She posts some art online. Public Instagram. Could've found it that way."

"Still means they're researching. Digging deep." Magnus hands the phone to Runes. "This isn't random targeting. They want her specifically."

"Because of what she represents," Fenrir says. "Ivar's daughter. The girl who survived their first attempt. It's about dominance now. Showing they can take what we protect."

"They can't." My voice comes out harder than intended. "They won't."

Runes studies me. "You seem certain."

"I am."

"Because?"

"Because I'll kill every last one of them before they touch her again."

"Again?" Ivar's voice sharpens. "What do you mean again?"

Fuck. Careful.

"The apartment attack. That's what I meant."

But Ivar's eyes narrow. He knows there's more. Father's instinct, maybe.

"Moving on," Runes says. "We have a bigger problem. Bodies are dropping across the city. Los Coyotes, but not our kills."

"How many?" Fenrir asks.

"Six confirmed. All within the last forty-eight hours." Magnus pulls out his phone, shows photos. "Professional hits. Clean. Efficient."

"Rival cartel?" Tor suggests.

"Maybe. Or someone else with a grudge." Runes lights a cigarette. "Either way, it's escalating. War's coming whether we want it or not."

"Good," Rio says. "Let it come. Better than waiting for them to pick us off."

"Agreed." This from Dag. "But we need to be smart. Protect the families first."

"Already on it," Magnus confirms. "Doubled patrols. Armed escorts for all women and kids."

"Not enough," I say. "Elfe needs more than the prospects’ shit job. I handled two threats all because they weren't competent enough to."

"What are you suggesting?" Runes asks.

"She still stays at Emil's compound. It's a fucking fortress—biometric locks, reinforced windows, safe room, dogs. But I stay there too. Twenty-four-seven protection."

"Hold up." Ivar stands. "My daughter's not shacking up with—"

"She's not shacking up with anyone." I keep my voice level. "She's accepting necessary protection from someone qualified to provide it. Unless you’d rather a prospect with his thumb up his ass be the one to protect your daughter."

"I'm her father. I can protect her."

"Like you protected her seven months ago?"

Low blow. But necessary.

Ivar's face reddens. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Don't you dare talk about—"

"I was here. I saw the aftermath. Saw what those animals did to her." I meet his eyes. "It won't happen again."

"You can't guarantee that."

"I can and I have."

Something in my tone must give me away. Ivar's eyes narrow. "What does that mean?"

"It means I take my duties seriously."

"Emil," Runes redirects. "Are you willing to house them both?"

Emil looks between me and Ivar. Weighing options. "Yeah. We've got room. Elfe's already staying with us anyway. Adding Oskar makes sense for protection."

"I don't like it," Ivar says.

"Noted." Runes' tone says the discussion's over. "But Emil's place is the most secure location we have. And Oskar's..." he pauses, choosing words carefully, "skillset makes him ideal for being the one closely assigned to her."

Ivar has no idea Runes has had me watching Elfe for months, but then again, no one does.

"His skillset," Ivar repeats. "You mean his body count."

"I mean his proven ability to eliminate threats," Runes says simply. "Which is what Elfe needs right now."

"What about the rest of us?" Rio asks. "If they're targeting families—"

"We’ll follow our general lockdown procedures," My father interrupts. "No one travels alone. Women and kids have armed escorts at all times. Businesses stay open but with increased security."

"Can't let them think they've got us scared," Rati adds. "That's weakness."

"But we are scared," Tor points out. "Or at least concerned. They're threatening our kids."

"Which is why we end this fast," Runes says. "Oskar, how many Los Coyotes are currently in our territory?"

"Unknown. The two I eliminated were scouts. But there'll be more. They always travel in waves."

"Best guess?"

I think about what I've observed. Patterns. "Fifteen. Maybe twenty. Enough to be dangerous but not enough to hold any territory."

"So we hunt," Rio says. "Find them before they move on to other families."

"Already started," I tell them. "But someone else is hunting too. Those six bodies. We need to know who and why."

"Could be an ally," Dag suggests.

"Or someone wanting Los Coyotes weakened so they can move in," Magnus counters. "The enemy of our enemy isn't always our friend."

It could be the Irish or the Russians, but if it was, we would have heard about it by now.

I have a feeling this is a new player, and one we need to identify quickly.

"I'll reach out to some contacts," Fenrir offers. "See what the street knows."

"Do it," Runes agrees. "In the meantime, we prepare for war. But smart war. Calculated. We don't give them easy targets."

"What about the threats to Elfe specifically?" I ask. "They want her. They'll keep coming."

"Then we use that," Magnus says. Everyone looks at him. "Not as bait. But as a misdirection. They're focused on her, so they're not watching other things."

"Other things like what?"

"Like us hunting them." Magnus' smile is cold. "They think they're predators. Let's remind them they're in our territory now."

"I want every available man armed and ready," Runes orders. "Prospects included. This is all-hands."

"What about the businesses?" someone asks. "If we're all hunting—"

"Businesses stay operational with skeleton crews. Can't look weak." Runes stands, signaling the meeting's end. "Forty-eight hours. We find them all and end this."

People start filing out. But Ivar blocks my path.

"I don't trust you with her."

The words hang in the air between us like a challenge.

Ivar's shoulders are squared, his stance wide—a fighter's position even though we’re having a conversation.