Page 20

Mandy

T he cabin appeared through a break in the trees, exactly as I remembered it—clean architectural lines with large windows reflecting the surrounding forest, cedar siding weathered to a perfect silver-gray. Rugged, understated, stylish. Like Thor himself.

His black truck sat in the gravel clearing, which meant he was home. I pulled up beside it and cut the engine, my heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted to escape. For several minutes, I just sat there, staring at the cabin door through the windshield, trying to gather the scattered pieces of my courage.

I’d called Duke before coming here, to get a heads-up. He’d been pleased to hear from me and spent time to explain what had been going on.

Duke had told me Thor was a mess. Drinking too much. Barely sleeping. Searching for me everywhere. But now that I was here, I was terrified of what I'd find on the other side of that door. Would he be angry? Cold? Would he turn me away after I'd ignored his calls, leaving him to wonder if I'd betrayed the club to save myself?

I closed my eyes, drawing in a long, shaky breath that filled my lungs with the scent of pine and mountain air leaking through the car's vents. The forest around me was quiet except for birdsong and the occasional whisper of wind through the trees. Peaceful. Unlike the storm inside me.

"It's now or never," I told myself, pulling the keys from the ignition. My own voice sounded alien to my ears—strained and thin.

I stepped out of the car, surprised by how my legs trembled beneath me. The crunch of gravel under my feet seemed unnaturally loud in the mountain stillness. Each step toward the cabin door felt heavier than the last, as if I were wading through mud.

The wooden steps to the porch creaked under my weight, a familiar sound that had once made me smile. Now it felt like an announcement of my arrival, a warning bell I couldn't silence.

Before I could raise my hand to knock, the door swung open.

Thor filled the doorway, his massive frame blocking my entry and any view inside. He looked different than I expected—clean-shaven, dressed in fresh clothes, his blue eyes clear but guarded. There were no signs of the drinking binge Duke had mentioned. No bloodshot eyes or stubbled cheeks or rumpled clothes. He looked . . . composed. Controlled. And so achingly familiar that my chest hurt just looking at him.

We stared at each other, the air between us charged with all the things we'd left unsaid. I searched his face for any hint of what he was feeling, but his expression was carefully blank, giving nothing away.

"You paid Amy's medical bills," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't move. Didn't blink. "I did."

His deep voice betrayed nothing, but something flickered in his eyes—a brief flash of vulnerability quickly masked.

"Why?" I asked, the single word carrying all my unspoken questions. Why care for my sister? Why spend your savings? Why continue when I ran away?

Thor shifted his weight slightly, the closest thing to discomfort I'd ever seen from him. His shoulders relaxed by a fraction, and his expression softened—not much, but enough that I could see the man I knew beneath the armor he'd put up.

"Because it’s what you needed," he said simply. Then, after a pause, he added, "Because without it, you had no freedom to choose."

He hadn't paid Amy's bills to manipulate me or to buy my loyalty. He'd done it to free me from an impossible choice—between my sister's life and my integrity.

Tears pressed hot against my eyelids, and I blinked them back desperately. I didn't deserve to cry in front of him. Not after I'd disappeared for five days, leaving him to wonder if I'd betrayed him and the club to the Serpents.

"I thought . . ." I started, but my voice cracked, and I had to try again. "I thought you'd be angry."

"I was," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Still might be."

Despite everything, a small smile tugged at my lips. That was so like Thor—honest to a fault, even when tact might have served him better.

"That's fair," I said softly.

Thor studied me for another long moment, then stepped back from the doorway. He didn't say "come in" or "welcome back" or any of the things I'd rehearsed responses to on the drive up. He simply created space for me to enter, a silent invitation I wasn't sure I deserved.

I hesitated, suddenly aware that crossing that threshold would mean more than just entering his home. It would mean starting a conversation I wasn't sure how to have, facing consequences I wasn't sure I was strong enough to bear. But staying outside was worse—continuing the distance between us that had grown over the past five days.

Drawing a deep breath, I stepped inside, the familiar scent of cedar and leather washing over me like a homecoming I hadn't earned.

Inside the cabin, everything looked immaculate. Too immaculate. Thor's space was always neat, but this was different. It was even cleaner than when I’d been doing nothing but cleaning this place 24/7. The cushions on the couch were perfectly aligned. The kitchen counters gleamed like they'd been polished multiple times. Books stood in perfect rows on shelves, arranged by height. There were no empty bottles, no takeout containers, nothing to suggest Thor's breakdown except this unnatural tidiness, as if he'd been cleaning compulsively to avoid thinking about everything else.

I stood awkwardly just inside the door, painfully aware of Thor's careful distance as he closed it behind me. He didn't crowd me or touch me but moved past to lean against the kitchen counter, leaving the entire living room between us.

"You can sit," he offered, gesturing to the couch with one large hand.

I shook my head. Sitting felt too casual, too normal, when nothing about this situation was normal. "I'm okay standing."

The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I searched for something to say, something safe to break the tension.

"Duke said you were looking for me," I finally managed, immediately wincing at my own words. Of course he had been looking for me. I'd disappeared without a trace after our confrontation in the park.

Thor's jaw tightened slightly. "Duke talks too much."

"He was worried about you."

"Yeah, I know. He told me plenty of times." Thor crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps straining against the fabric of his t-shirt.

Another silence fell. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, feeling like an unwelcome guest in a space that had once felt like a sanctuary.

"The cabin's secure now," Thor said abruptly.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "What?"

"Found evidence someone had been staking it out. Watching us." His voice was matter-of-fact, but I could see the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Footprints. Cigarette butts. Signs of a long-term surveillance position in the trees to the south."

A chill ran through me. Someone had been watching us? Watching me when I was at my most vulnerable?

"It was the Serpents?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Thor shrugged one massive shoulder. "Well. It was someone who reported to the serpents. Could've been anyone. Cops. Rival clubs. Private investigator." His eyes locked with mine. "But yeah, that’s how the Serps got those pictures."

"But you fixed it?" I couldn't keep the fear from my voice. Thinking abou the photos made me feel violated all over again.

"Yeah." His tone softened slightly at the fear in my expression. "Changed the security system. Added more motion sensors. Swept the whole property. They won't be watching again."

I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. "Thank you."

Thor pushed away from the counter but didn't come closer. He paced to the window instead, looking out at the trees as if searching for hidden watchers, though I knew he'd already eliminated that threat.

"You didn’t have to come back, you know. That’s not why I paid the bills.”

“I know. I just . . . wanted to say thank you.”

“Well. You’re welcome.”

I paused for a moment, the sadness welling up in me.

“That’s it?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes.

“That’s it.”

Silence bloomed. My heart pounded. Was this it?

“Okay. Well.” I stood up, walked to the door. “Goodbye, Thor.”

I turned my back on him.

"I failed you," he said quietly.

“What?”

"When you needed understanding, I gave you anger. When you needed comfort, I gave you fear."

Thor moved away from the window, still keeping his distance, but positioning himself closer to me than before. He was so large, so powerful, yet in that moment he seemed uncertain, almost hesitant, as if afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"I shouldn't have reacted the way I did in the park," he continued, each word chosen carefully. "But those photos . . . seeing our private moments exposed like that . . . knowing someone had violated something sacred between us . . ." His hands clenched into fists at his sides, then slowly relaxed. "All I could think about was protecting you, and instead, I scared you away."

I shook my head, needing him to understand. "It wasn't just that. It was everything. My job. My reputation. Amy's treatments. I felt like my whole life was crumbling, and I didn't know how to stop it."

"So you ran."

"Yes. I hid at Amy's apartment while she was at the hospital. I turned off my phone. I tried to pretend none of it was happening."

Thor nodded, unsurprised. "I figured you were at Amy's eventually. Went by there twice. Didn't see the car I lent you."

"I rented one," I explained. "Didn’t feel right to use yours."

"Your Audi’s at the garage. It’s nearly done, by the way," Thor supplied.

"Thank you," I whispered.

His next question came quietly, almost reluctantly, but with an intensity that filled the room.

"Did you meet with the Serpents after you ran?" he asked, his voice low and controlled. "Did you give them what they wanted?"

There it was—the real question, the one that had probably been tormenting him for five days. Had I betrayed him? Had I betrayed the club?

His face gave nothing away, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. This was the moment that would determine whether we had any chance of rebuilding what we'd lost.

I met his gaze directly, wanting him to see the truth in my eyes.

"No," I said firmly. "I never contacted them again. I'd rather lose everything than betray you or the club."

The relief that washed over his face was subtle but unmistakable—a slight softening around his eyes, a small release of tension in his jaw. He believed me. After everything, he still trusted my word.

"I didn't think you had," he said after a moment. "But I had to ask."

"I know." And I did. In his position, I would have done the same.

The distance between us felt a little less vast now, as if my answer had removed one of the barriers keeping us apart.

I stepped closer, emboldened by the care in his voice. The distance between us still felt significant, but less insurmountable than before.

"I was trying to find another job. I had an interview today, actually." A bitter laugh escaped me, surprising even myself with its harshness. "It was a disaster."

Thor didn't move, but his attention sharpened. "What happened?"

I shifted uncomfortably, shame heating my cheeks as I remembered Phillips's smug face, his leering eyes as he'd clicked through those photos of me.

"The photos are everywhere, Thor. Everyone in town has seen them." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the cabin's warmth. "The guy interviewing me had them on his computer. He'd been looking at them before I arrived."

Thor's jaw tightened so quickly I heard his teeth click together. A muscle twitched under his skin, the only visible sign of the rage I knew was building inside him.

"What's his name?" The question was deceptively calm, but the dangerous undercurrent was unmistakable.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." Thor's voice was controlled, too controlled. It was the voice he used when he was containing violence.

"Devin Phillips. Ironridge Builders." The names slipped out before I could stop them. "But it won't change anything, Thor. He's not the problem. The photos are out there. Everyone's seen them."

Thor's eyes narrowed slightly. "He had no right to humiliate you like that."

"No, he didn't," I agreed softly. "But hurting him won't undo the damage. My career is over. My reputation is destroyed." I paused, swallowing around the lump in my throat before adding, "But Amy's treatments are paid for. She's going to be okay."

Thor looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the shift toward gratitude. His hands opened and closed at his sides, a restless gesture I'd come to recognize when he was struggling with emotions he didn't know how to express.

"How did you even afford it?" I asked, taking another step closer to him. "Do you have any idea what you've done for us? How much that money means?"

Thor shifted his weight, his massive frame suddenly awkward with my gratitude. He rubbed the back of his neck, a surprisingly boyish gesture for someone so intimidating.

"Been saving," he said simply. "Never had much to spend money on. Cabin's paid off. Bike's paid off."

"But it must have been everything you had," I pressed, needing him to understand the magnitude of his gesture. "Hundreds of thousands of dollars, Thor. That's not just savings."

He shrugged one shoulder, still not meeting my eyes. "Had investments too. Not all bikers are broke, princess. Our club is kinda successful."

The casual endearment slipped out, clearly unintentional. Thor stiffened slightly when he realized what he'd said, but I felt my heart leap at the familiar term.

"I know it doesn't fix everything," he said. "Those photos are still out there. Your job is still gone. But at least you don't have to worry about Amy."

I closed the remaining distance between us until only a foot of space separated us. Looking up at him, I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the vulnerability he showed only to me.

"Do you know what would have happened if you hadn't paid those bills?" I asked quietly.

Thor shook his head slightly.

"I would have lost absolutely everything," I told him, my voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. "Not just my job or my reputation, but my integrity. My sense of self. Because I would have done anything—anything—to keep Amy's treatments going." I took a shaky breath. "Including things I could never forgive myself for."

Understanding dawned in Thor's eyes. He knew exactly what I meant—betraying the club, betraying him, giving the Serpents whatever they wanted. The choice I'd been spared because of his sacrifice.

"You would have hated yourself," he said simply.

"Yes. You gave me more than money, Thor," I whispered. "You gave me the chance to choose freely. To be the person I want to be, not the person desperation would have made me."

Thor's expression softened, the hard lines of his face gentling as he reached out, hesitating just before touching me. "Is that worth something to you?" he asked, his voice low and rough with emotion.

"It's worth everything."

His hand closed the final distance, his calloused fingers brushing my cheek with exquisite gentleness. The touch was electric after days without contact, sending warmth cascading through me. I leaned into his palm without thinking, years of professional reserve and recent caution melting away under the simple comfort of his skin against mine.

"I thought I'd lost you," Thor admitted, the words barely audible.

"You almost did," I replied honestly. "Not because I stopped loving you. But because I was scared and hurt and didn't know how to face any of it."

His thumb stroked my cheekbone, his touch feather-light despite the strength I knew those hands possessed. "And now?"

"Now I'm still scared," I said, holding his gaze. "But I'm here. And I want to try to find a way forward. Together."

The hope that flickered in Thor's eyes made my heart ache. This enormous, dangerous man who inspired fear in his enemies looked at me like I was offering him salvation.

“You know what,” he said. “I know a way forward for you.”

“You do?”

“Follow me.”

I followed Thor through the cabin, my heart still hammering against my ribs. When we reached the door at the end of the hall, I froze. It stood open. In all the time I'd known Thor, that door had remained locked when he wasn't inside, protecting his sanctuary from the world. But now it gaped wide, as if inviting me to witness something he couldn't say in words.

Thor paused at the threshold, his massive frame silhouetted against the light from inside. "Come on," he said, his voice gentler than I expected.

Thor's hand covered mine, engulfing it completely. His skin was warm and rough, the hand of a man who worked with tools and engines and wasn't afraid of calluses. But his touch was gentle, almost hesitant.

"I've been thinking a lot about you," he said. "About us. About what happened." His eyes met mine with an intensity that made my heart skip. "About what comes next for you."

He guided me toward a small desk in the corner of the room. Several papers were spread across its surface—business plans, I realized as I got closer. Financial projections. Forms for business licensure in the state of Colorado.

"What is all this?" I asked, confusion momentarily overtaking emotion.

Thor leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest. His massive frame seemed to fill the small corner, but he was careful not to crowd me.

"You don't have to hide who you are anymore, Mandy," he said, his voice deep with conviction. "The photos are out there, yes. But what if instead of running from it, you owned it?"

I blinked, trying to follow his logic. "Owned . . . being exposed? Having my privacy violated?"

He shook his head. "No. Owned who you really are."

His finger tapped one of the papers—a business plan, I realized, for an accounting firm. One with a focus I'd never seen before.

"Start your own accounting firm," Thor continued. "One specializing in clients from the lifestyle—Littles, Caregivers, DDLG couples. There are more than you'd think, and they all need someone who understands, who can be discreet, who won't judge."

I stared at the papers, my mind racing. The business plan was detailed, thorough. Projected income statements, marketing strategies, client acquisition plans. Thor had clearly put significant thought into this.

"People would agree to hire me knowing . . .?" I couldn't finish the sentence.

Thor nodded, his blue eyes steady on mine. "Not just agree to hire you—they would seek you out specifically because you understand their world. Take the power back."

My fingers brushed over the papers. The idea was audacious, terrifying, and yet . . . I felt a spark of something I hadn't felt in days. Hope.

"I wouldn't have to hide anymore," I said softly, testing the idea.

"No more hiding," Thor agreed. "No more begging sleazy builders for the chance to manage their accounts. No more worrying that someone will find out and use it against you. They already know. Now you can use it to help others like you."

"It would be a risk," I said, my analytical brain already running calculations. "Most new businesses fail in the first year."

Thor's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Good thing you're not most people. And good thing your boyfriend—" He hesitated, then continued, "—has connections and resources. The Kings would support you. Duke already said he'd be your first official client. No more moonlighting in the shadows. The MC is always expanding."

I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me. "Duke said that?"

"Among other things. Most of which I won't repeat because his language ain't fit for little ears." Thor's eyes softened as he said it.

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, holding it cupped in his palm. "Found this in the couch cushions after you left."

He opened his hand to reveal my unicorn keychain—the small, sparkly token I'd attached to my keys when I was feeling little but wanted to carry that comfort into my adult world. I'd been looking for it for days, assuming I'd lost it somewhere.

"This is who you are," Thor said, placing it carefully in my palm and closing my fingers around it. "Strong, professional, brilliant with numbers, and also a Little who needs care sometimes. Both sides, equally valuable."

Tears welled in my eyes as I clutched the keychain. It was such a small thing, this cheap little trinket with its faded rainbow mane. But in that moment, it felt like the most precious gift—acceptance of my whole self.

Thor took a deep breath, then did something that stopped my heart. He dropped to one knee before me, his massive frame somehow looking vulnerable as he gazed up at me.

"I was going to wait," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "But I realized something these past five days without you. Life's too short for waiting."

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, could only watch .

"I don’t have a ring,” he said, voice raw with emotion. “I thought I’d lost you. I was gonna email you the plans for the business and move on with my life.”

I’d never seen emotion like this in his face.

“But I believe in taking the chance life gives you. So, please, marry me, Mandy," he said, holding my gaze with an intensity that made everything else fade away. "Be my wife, my Little one, my everything. You'll never have to worry about being judged for being with a biker—you'll be Mrs. Eriksson, and no one will dare say a word."

His eyes held mine, hope and fear battling in their blue depths. "I love all of you—the accountant, the Little, every part. Say you'll be mine, officially."

The tears I'd been holding back spilled freely now. In that moment, I saw all of Thor—not just the intimidating biker, not just the gentle caregiver, but the complete man. The craftsman who built dollhouses with the same hands that could break bones. The protector who paid my sister's medical bills without expecting anything in return. The lover who accepted every part of me, even the parts I'd hidden from the world.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, bringing our faces level. His eyes widened in surprise, his hands instinctively reaching to steady me.

"Yes," I whispered, the single word containing everything—forgiveness, promise, future. "Yes, Thor."

For a moment, he seemed frozen, as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard. Then his face transformed with a joy so raw and unguarded that it took my breath away.

He pulled me into a kiss that tasted of salt and hope and home. His arms wrapped around me, strong and secure, lifting me effortlessly until I was cradled against his chest. I wound my arms around his neck, holding on as if I might float away without his anchor.

When we finally broke apart, both breathless, Thor pressed his forehead against mine. "I thought I'd lost you," he admitted, the words a rough whisper. “I really did.”

"I'm sorry I ran," I said, needing him to understand. "I was scared and hurt and—"

"Shh," he interrupted gently. "I understand and I don’t blame you. Not one bit. The blame is on me. But I will make amends. What matters is what we do next."

He carried me to the window where his reading chair now faced the forest. Sitting down with me still in his arms, he settled me in his lap, my head tucked under his chin. For several minutes, we just sat there in silence, watching the trees sway in the breeze, feeling the solid warmth of each other.

"So," Thor finally said, his voice rumbling through his chest against my ear, "Mrs. Eriksson's Alternative Accounting Services? Or is that too on the nose?"

I laughed, the sound surprising me with its ease. "Maybe we should workshop the name a bit more."

"We've got time," Thor replied, his arms tightening around me. "All the time we need."