Page 17 of Viking (Dixie Reapers MC #24)

Viking

I made my way across the compound. The night air had cooled, carrying the scent of motor oil and distant cigarette smoke -- familiar smells that usually settled my nerves.

Not tonight. Tonight, my skin prickled with the certainty that trouble was barreling toward us, toward the woman and child sleeping in my house.

The same woman whose fingers had brushed against mine just moments ago, sending a jolt through my system that had nothing to do with danger and everything to do with feelings I’d been trying to ignore.

Feelings that might get us all killed if I didn’t handle this right.

The compound was unusually quiet. Most of the brothers were either on watch at the perimeter or crashed for the night.

Only a few lingered outside the clubhouse, their cigarettes glowing in the darkness.

They nodded as I passed, their expressions guarded in a way that made my stomach tighten.

News traveled fast in the club -- they already knew something was brewing.

Tempest leaned against his bike, phone pressed to his ear, his massive frame tense as he listened to whoever was on the other end. He caught my eye and gave a short nod. “On his way now,” he said into the phone before hanging up. “Savior’s waiting for you. Doesn’t sound happy.”

Shit. I’d known he would tell the Pres, but still…

“When does he ever?” I tried for levity, but it fell flat even to my own ears.

“You sure about this, brother?” Tempest’s voice dropped, making sure we weren’t overheard. “Bringing that woman and kid here without permission… I think you bit off more than you can chew.”

“I made a promise,” I said simply.

Tempest studied me for a long moment, then clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Then you do what you gotta do. Just don’t expect Savior to roll over on this one.”

I nodded, appreciating the support even as dread pooled in my gut.

The clubhouse door felt heavier than usual as I pushed it open.

Inside, the typical chaos was subdued -- a few brothers playing pool, a Prospect wiping down the bar, another brother checking his phone while nursing a beer.

They all looked up when I entered, conversations faltering.

The silence hit me like a physical thing, full of questions no one was asking out loud.

“Look who decided to join us,” Sticks called out, breaking the tension. “How’s domestic life treating you, Viking? Little woman got dinner waiting at home?”

A few chuckles rippled through the room. I kept my expression neutral, though my fists clenched at my sides. “Fuck off, Sticks.”

“Just asking,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Not every day we see you playing house. Must be serious if you’re willing to risk Savior’s wrath.”

I stepped toward him, a growl building in my throat, but Thunder intercepted me, placing a calming hand on my chest. “Easy, brother. He’s just yanking your chain.”

I took a deep breath, forcing down the anger. Sticks wasn’t worth it, and I needed my head clear for the conversation waiting in Savior’s office.

“They’re talking about me,” I said flatly. “About Karoline.”

Thunder shrugged. “You brought in a woman and kid without talking to anyone first. What did you expect?”

Put like that, it did sound serious. But what was I supposed to do?

Let Karoline fend for herself against whatever government assassins had killed her brother?

Not to mention, it wasn’t like I hadn’t told anyone at all.

Wire and Atlas had been helping me, and I’d talked to Tempest. Even still, I understood where he was coming from.

“It’s complicated,” I muttered.

“Always is with women,” Thunder agreed, steering me toward the hallway leading to Savior’s office. He lowered his voice. “For what it’s worth, I think she’s good for you. Got a fire in her eyes. Stands up straight when the other old ladies come around, doesn’t flinch. Kid’s cute too.”

I hadn’t realized Thunder had been paying such close attention. But then, that was his way -- quiet observer, taking everything in. He saw more than most gave him credit for.

“Thanks,” I said, meaning it.

At the end of the hallway, Saint lounged against the wall outside Savior’s door, arms crossed over his broad chest. Our VP straightened as I approached, his gaze assessing.

“He’s waiting,” Saint said, nodding toward the closed door. “Wire’s inside too.”

That was unexpected. Wire rarely got called in for something like this. Savior only pulled him in whenever his computer skills were needed. What the hell was I walking into? My unease deepened.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

Saint’s expression remained carefully neutral. “He wants to hear it from you.”

I nodded, squaring my shoulders. “Then let’s not keep him waiting.”

Saint pushed off from the wall, his hand coming to rest briefly on my shoulder in a gesture that might have been support or warning. “Remember your oath to this club, brother. That comes first. Always.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. My oath to the club. My promise to Kris. My growing feelings for Karoline and Athena. Three separate loyalties pulling me in directions that might prove impossible to reconcile.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself for what was coming. Then I knocked once on Savior’s door and stepped inside to face the music.

Savior’s office smelled of leather and whiskey.

Our President sat behind his massive desk.

Wire was perched on the edge of the couch against the wall, his laptop open on his knees, face illuminated by the screen glow.

Neither of them spoke as I entered, the silence stretching taut.

I’d been in this room hundreds of times -- for club business, for celebrations, for discipline.

This time felt different. This time, everything I valued hung in the balance.

“Close the door,” Savior said, his voice deceptively calm.

I did as ordered, then stood and waited, having a feeling I was in deep shit. Savior studied me, his face giving nothing away. Then he reached for a bottle of Jameson on his desk and poured two generous measures into glass tumblers.

“Sit,” he said, pushing one glass toward the empty chair across from him.

“I’ll stand.” The words came out more defiant than I’d intended.

Savior’s eyebrow arched slightly. “Suit yourself.” He knocked back half his whiskey in one swallow, then set the glass down. “Wire, show him what you found.”

Wire turned his laptop toward me. On the screen, satellite imagery showed three black SUVs moving in formation down the highway that led to our town.

“Government plates,” Wire said. “They hit town limits twenty minutes ago, checked into the Bluebird Motel. Six men, all armed, all moving with military precision.”

My stomach clenched. “So they’ve definitely found them.”

“And they found us,” Savior countered, his voice hardening.

“You’ve had civilians living in your house without permission for days now.

I let it slide, thinking you’d come see me, but you didn’t.

And now you’re saying trouble is heading our way because of your guests.

” He leaned forward, palms flat on the desk.

“You know damn well you’ve broken the rules. ”

The accusation hung in the air, undeniable. I had broken the rules -- club rules that existed for a reason, rules I’d helped enforce over the years. Even if Wire had said he would tell Savior, I hadn’t made sure the Pres knew. But this was different. This was Kris’s family.

“I didn’t have a choice,” I said, reaching for the letter I kept folded in my pocket “My best friend was killed by these people. He left this letter, telling his sister to find me because they’d be in danger --”

“I don’t give a shit about some letter,” Savior cut me off, the calm facade cracking.

“I care about this club. About the brothers who might get caught in the crossfire because you decided to play white knight. About our families would get killed because of this shit.” He jabbed a finger at the laptop screen.

“Those aren’t cartel thugs or rival clubs.

Those are government operators. The kind that can make us all disappear with a phone call. ”

“They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think Karoline has something they want,” Wire interjected, his voice measured. “Kris must have left evidence of whatever got him killed. If we could find it first --”

“That’s not the point,” Savior snapped, silencing Wire with a look. His focus returned to me, eyes hard as flint. “The point is, Viking broke club protocol. Brought outsiders into our sanctuary without approval. Put us all at risk.”

The truth of his words stung, but the alternative -- turning Karoline and Athena away -- had never been an option. Not for me.

“I promised Kris I’d protect them,” I said, my voice low but firm. “I gave my word.”

“And what about your word to this club?” Savior stood, moving around the desk until we were face to face. Despite being shorter than me, he radiated the kind of authority that made men twice his size back down. “Your oath was to put the Reapers first. Always.”

The conflict tore at me like physical pain.

My loyalty to the club ran soul deep. These men were my brothers, my family when I had none.

But Karoline, with her copper hair and fierce protectiveness of Athena, her quiet strength and unexpected vulnerability…

she’d worked her way under my skin in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

And Athena, so small and silent, watching the world with those solemn eyes -- the thought of anything happening to either of them made my blood run cold.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, the question tasting bitter on my tongue. “Send them away? They’d be dead within a day.”

“Either claim them as your old lady and kid, or they’re out by tomorrow,” Savior said, his tone making it clear this wasn’t a suggestion.

I stared at him, processing the ultimatum. “Claim them?”