Riders of Tyr Series: Hellhound
Fulfilled Wishes
Iris
I trail behind the man, crossing the street. He’s a handsome blonde, but not as captivating as the one I left behind in the bar. My mind drifts back to him.
He’s taller than the man I’m following, more muscular. And his body is a canvas of tattoos. I’ve never seen a man with so many tattoos.
His fingers, arms, collarbone, even his bare toes are inked. I didn’t get a chance to study the designs. I was too distracted by his face.
It’s a perfect face, with high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. His full lips are hidden behind a thick golden beard, and his golden hair is styled into a long mohawk, strands falling onto his face. He’s like a god among men, and for a moment, I forget my troubles.
“My name’s Tor,” my guide interrupts my thoughts.
He’s grinning at me, and I’m struck by how easily others can smile and laugh. I attempt a fake smile, but I’m not sure I pull it off.
He nods, understanding. I haven’t given him my name, and I’m not sure I will. We cross the street and find ourselves in a parking lot.
There are several trucks and a few bikes parked, and I take a moment to assess the garage’s clientele. Tor leads me into the garage. There’s an SUV on a workstation, a bike with its parts scattered around, and a classic truck in the middle of the garage.
Someone is working underneath it.
“Bjorn!” Tor bangs on the truck, and the man slides out from underneath.
The man emerging from under the truck makes me remember to blink. He’s a giant, dressed in dark denim overalls and a black T-shirt that clings to his muscular body. His long brown hair is pulled back into a man bun, and his beard is long and unkempt.
He looks at me with dark green eyes, and a wave of fear washes over me. Men. They’re all men, and that’s always bad news. I feel the urge to run, but I need this job.
“Bjorn, this is…,” Tor starts, turning to me.
He’s persistent. And smart.
“Iris. My name is Iris.” I decide to trust them.
The giant man just nods, acknowledging my existence, and remains silent.
“Iris is here for the job,” Tor says, a playful smile on his face.
“I don’t give a fuck who serves my beer.” Bjorn’s voice is deep and gruff.
Tor raises an eyebrow, and I notice a long scar across it. He seems amused by the situation, but I’m uneasy. These men may be handsome, but they also seem dangerous.
Very dangerous. And I’ve seen what dangerous people can do. But I stand my ground, gathering all the courage I have left.
“She’s here for the garage work.”
Bjorn’s gaze lands on me, and it feels like I’ve been hit by a train. Tor chuckles lightly, then places his hand on my shoulder. I flinch, letting out a whimper.
Tor quickly pulls his hand back, frowning at my reaction. I swallow hard and instinctively make myself smaller. Tor looks at me but says nothing, just turns to Bjorn.
“Come on, man,” Tor says, almost commanding, “give the girl a chance.”
I feel embarrassed for flinching when all Tor was trying to do was help. But I hate it when people touch me. When men touch me.
And I’ve seen how Tor looks at me, how he talked about my belly. He’s a man, and men want one thing. I feel a scream rising in my throat, but I try to relax, rolling the hem of my sleeve.
“Take a look at this truck, kid.” Bjorn’s voice pulls me back to reality.
Hearing Bjorn call me “kid” calms me down. I look at the truck and instantly feel better. People, men, I can’t handle.
A truck? Any day. So I pull a stool over to the truck, climb on it, and lean over the hood.
“Hey, man!” I hear Tor say softly to Bjorn. “I’m telling Ava!”
I turn to look at them, and they’re both staring at me. I feel the scream rising in my throat again, but I swallow it down. My hands are shaking, and I keep glancing at the exit, ready to run.
To run again, away from pain and hurt. Whatever Tor said must have worked, because the giant grunts and turns to the table with the tools. He must be Ava’s man.
I relax a little. A woman wouldn’t send me to work with her man if he was a pervert. But then again, I’ve seen all kinds of darkness in people.
I focus on the rusted engine. It’s easier to fix. It’s old, but it still has life in it.
I can feel it as I run my fingers over the engine. All my anxiety fades away. I’m in my own world, a quiet, peaceful place, and I’m grateful for it.
Maybe that’s why I haven’t left yet. I want to work here, hidden away from the world, fixing bikes and cars forever, bringing order to the chaos around me.
“Try it,” I tell Bjorn after a while, wiping my hands on a towel.
Bjorn gives me a mocking smile and climbs into the driver’s seat. He turns the ignition, and the engine roars to life. When the giant man gets out of the car, his expression is serious.
Tor looks at me, impressed, and I feel a little taller.
“Not bad,” Bjorn admits, turning to Tor.
“Could be good publicity. Have a girl take care of our bikes,” Tor says, shaking his head. “But you’re the boss, man.”
Bjorn walks over to me, blocking out the light with his massive frame. He looks me over with a cold stare, and I’m terrified. This man could easily overpower me.
There would be no escaping him if he wanted to hurt me.
“You heard him,” Bjorn growls, and I wonder if he’s really a man or a wolf. “I’m the boss. You do as I say.”
“Okay,” I manage to say.
“Talk to Daniel about money and stuff,” Bjorn says, turning his back on me and sliding back under the truck.
I glance at Tor, who seems to be thoroughly enjoying the situation. I need to discuss some paperwork with Bjorn, but I hesitate to disturb him again. Suddenly, an idea hits me.
I have a job!
“All right, Iris. Daniel’s in the office,” Tor tells me, gesturing toward the bar with a jerk of his thumb. “You’re hired!”
I am! But I’m torn between feeling elated and terrified. I’m dealing with a group of bikers who I know are skirting the law. I’m not sure I want to be thrust into their world, subject to their male gazes.
I trail behind Tor back into the bar, this time more aware of my surroundings.
The back wall is adorned with the words RIDERS OF TYR and a detailed graffiti depiction of a Norse god. There’s a large bar on one side, with various booths and couches scattered around. Numerous tables fill the space, and a pool table sits off to one side.
Opposite the pool table, a heavy door stands closed. At the back, a wide corridor lined with doors leads to staircases going up and down. The bar is populated with the same faces as before.
The man with the scarred face nurses a coffee at the bar, seemingly nursing a hangover, while a younger man behind the bar refills his cup. The man who first welcomed me is also at the bar, sipping his coffee. And across from him, the blue-eyed man is…
Oh, God! He’s dragging a blade across his skin, opening fresh wounds. I glance around, but no one else seems bothered. His head is tilted back against the wall, his eyes closed as if he’s savoring the pain, his breaths coming in sharp gasps.
“The office is the first one on the right,” Tor informs me.
The blond man snaps out of his trance and opens his eyes. When he sees me, his blissful expression vanishes, replaced with a look as if I’m the one who’s been cutting him. His beautiful eyes are filled with pure rage.
All I can do is flee.
Continue to the next chapter of Riders of Tyr Series: Hellhound