A Twist of Wyrd (The Ways of Wyrd Book 1)

by PJ Friel

  “You never forced yourself on me. I gave you mixed signals. That’s not something I normally do, but I’ve been under some stress lately and…” I shook my head. A lot of stress. “Anyway, I should have just told you.”

  “I wish you had before tonight,” DG said, touching the bridge of his nose.

  “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll give you a free shot at my nose.”

  DG chuckled as I’d intended and shook his head. “That’s quite all right. I forgive you.” DG held out his hand. “Friends?”

  I held up my hand. “I have blood on my fingers from…that guy I chased.”

  He pulled a pristine white linen handkerchief out of his back pocket. “Here, use this.”

  I chuckled and gently wiped my fingers clean. “Do you always carry a handkerchief?”

  DG shrugged. “Call me old-fashioned.”

  “What is it with me and old-fashioned guys?” I muttered.

  “You have a hair…” DG motioned then reached out and plucked a dark hair off my shirt, near the shoulder. He took the handkerchief back from me and wrapped it all up, then shoved it back in his pocket. “All cleaned up now.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He nodded and glanced away.

  “I should probably—”

  “Look, since we’re friends now…” DG sighed and shook his head. “I’m aware that this will appear to be sour grapes on my part, but I like you, Bryn, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  I wasn’t liking the sound of this already. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can. That’s part of what makes you so attractive...your strength...but Trygg is a violent man.”

  I sighed. Yes, this sounded a lot like sour grapes. “He’s a security professional. Violence, both preventing it and dealing it out in certain circumstances, is part of the job.”

  “That may be true, but he has a shady past and I’ve heard things.”

  I bristled. “I work with facts, not rumors.”

  “I understand that.” DG looked over his shoulder, as if checking to make sure we were alone. “My father isn’t just his boss. He took Trygg in to help him with his control. He’s dangerous, Bryn.”

  “Because he’s Jotun? Pot and kettle, don’t you think?” DG’s eyes widened and I showed him my teeth. “Yes, I know what you are.”

  “How?”

  “That’s my business, just like whatever arrangement Trygg has with your father is his business.”

  “Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Forget I said anything.”

  “Forgotten.” I said. I wasn’t convincing.

  “You’re still coming to my Grand Opening, right?” he asked with the puppy dog look.

  I’d never had the urge to kick puppies until I met this guy. Dezi would cut me if I backed out of going to the Grand Opening. DG had sent enough tickets for her and Jace to join Trygg and me and she’d been shopping for the past two weeks for the perfect outfit.

  “Sure, with Trygg as my plus one,” I said, digging in the knife a little deeper. “And Dezi and her boyfriend, Jace, are tagging along, too.”

  “Of course. I’ll see you all in roughly a week, then.” He backed towards the door and I watched him go. “I hope Trygg catches whoever that was you were talking to.”

  “Me, too. He was the only shot I had at giving closure to a friend.”

  “Closure is important.” His gaze caught and held mine. “We all deserve it.”

  CHAPTER 33

  TRYGG

  “I said I was sorry, Bryn. What more can I do?” I asked, gripping the steering wheel with both hands.

  Bryn shook her head, but said nothing.

  I had to concentrate on not ripping the wheel off and throwing it through the windshield. She’d barely said two words to me since I’d told her that I'd lost Drew. I had followed his scent down two blocks before it dissipated, which likely meant he had jumped into a vehicle.

  For most people that would be it, but now that I had the guy’s scent, I could find him again. It might take me some time and a lot of walking, but eventually I'd pick it up again. I’d told Bryn that, but she’d just scoffed. It hurt that she didn’t believe me. Not gonna lie. But without telling her what I was, only results would convince her. I still wasn’t ready to risk the truth.

  I’m not sure I ever would be.

  “We can make some calls to the cab companies and see if we can get the drop-off address from whoever picked up Drew,” I offered, trying to give her options since she had zero faith in me.

  “Assuming a friend didn’t pick him up,” Bryn snapped.

  “Let’s not borrow trouble.”

  With my luck, that was probably exactly what happened.

  Bryn growled under her breath, but didn’t say anything more. Apparently, she was determined to make things miserable for me tonight. Not that I could blame her after that clusterfuck between me and DG.

  Just looking at that prick turned me from sane to seething in two point five seconds, but tonight had been extreme. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been rubbing his dick on her ass.

  The steering wheel creaked and I drew in a deep breath through my nose and then pushed it out through my mouth. I could have killed that son of a bitch tonight and lost zero shut eye over it. Instead, DG walked away with barely a scratch and all the headway I'd made in my relationship with Bryn had gone down the shitter.

  My relationship with Bryn. I snorted.

  “What?” Bryn snapped.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie to me! I hate that. If you have something to say then say it.” Her eyes were a thunderstorm and she bared her teeth as if she wanted to take a chunk out of me.

  “That’s rich. Why don’t you take your own advice and stop muttering at me?”

  “Whatever,” she muttered.

  That did it. She wasn’t going to whatever me. Time to duke this out. I checked my mirrors then whipped into a lot, screeching into a dark parking spot under a burned-out light.

  “What are you doing?” Bryn asked, her voice a few octaves higher than usual.

  Was she actually scared of me? That Bryn could even remotely think I'd hurt her, just pissed me off even more. I turned off the car, plunging the inside of the SUV into darkness, then ripped off my seatbelt and turned to face her.

  “Let’s hear it. Go ahead and tell me what an idiot I am.”

  Silence, except for the hammering of my heart. Was this how it was going to end? The silent treatment. Not even a “Don’t call me?”

  “What, you can’t even give me the courtesy of telling me we’re through? You’re just going to ignore me?”

  A tiny whimper sounded from the other side of the car.

  “Bryn?”

  “Lights.”

  The word was delivered a decibel below a whisper, but the impact made my ears bleed. She’d never told me that she had a phobia of the dark, but I knew what she’d been through as a young girl. It wasn’t a stretch to connect the dots.

  “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

  I reached across her, intending to unbuckle her seatbelt and pull her into my arms, but as soon as my arm brushed against her, she screamed and threw open the door. She tried to jump free of the car, but the seat belt jerked her back inside. For a split second, she froze and something clattered on the floorboard.

  That’s when she went absolutely wild. Fists punching, legs kicking. She fought as if her life depended on it and I absorbed every blow. My ears were ringing, lip was bleeding, and I was certain I had a cracked rib.

  None of that mattered.

  Bryn was still fighting, still hysterical.

  I swallowed the blood and the pain and kept working until I was able to free her from the restraint. As soon as I did, she bolted and I dove after her.

  “Brynja, stop!”

  She hobbled away until she hit a circle of light cast from one of the poles and then spun around wi
th her fists clenched. She was feral as fuck and the sight of her decimated me. Slowing to a walk, I held up my trembling hands, palms out.

  “It’s just me. It’s Trygg.” I stopped and waited until she really focused on me. “I will never hurt you. Please tell me you know that.”

  Her throat worked, but no sound came out. Eventually, she gave me a sharp nod, but didn’t drop her fists.

  “Can I come stand with you? It’s kinda dark over here.”

  Her eyes widened and she looked behind me as if waiting for something to jump out and grab us both. The unsettling thing was that it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities and she knew it firsthand.

  “God, please baby, let me come stand with you,” pain laced my voice.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  I ambled towards her like I had all day, like it wasn’t killing me not to run to her. When I finally reached her, her eyes welled up. Slowly, I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes and rubbed against my palm as the tears overflowed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I usually control it better, but—”

  “This is not your fault.”

  I couldn’t stand it anymore. I tugged her into my arms and she pressed so close she could have worn me for a suit. Her breathing evened out and her muscles loosened. As I rocked her back and forth, I dissected her words.

  Control. If I thought about the past two weeks, it was obvious just how much control she exercised over her environment. Every time we went out, she swung by in her Challenger and picked me up and then dropped me off whenever I decided to go back to my place, usually in the morning.

  I'd balked at first, whining about everything from her driving to losing my man card, but we had finally settled the argument by me paying for all our drinks. We’d fallen into a routine and I had stopped thinking about it.

  Now, I understood her careful parking place choices—always the most lit spot, closest one to the bar that she could get. And when we walked between the car and whatever bar we were checking out, she didn’t mosey along, she power walked. I wanted to kick myself for every time I'd made fun of her for it.

  And her tension inside the darker bars...totally made sense now. It had nothing to do with her not wanting me to touch her and everything to do with her being constantly on the lookout for an attack.

  Today, was my worst offense. I’d made that stupid bet and tapped into the Monster’s power to win it. Basically, I’d cheated. Later, the confrontation with David had angered me, but a tiny part of me was happy that she’d been distracted enough not to put up a fuss about me collecting on my bet. Like a selfish prick, the real reason I wanted to drive was so I could beat my chest at any man who watched us cruise by.

  My woman. Mine.

  Yeah.

  Selfish asshole.

  “I had a knife strapped to my calf,” she whimpered against my chest.

  “That’s good.” I rubbed her back. “Is it still there?”

  “No. I dropped it before you released the seat belt.”

  “Okay.”

  “I was going to cut through the strap, but you were in the way and I was afraid…” Her voice broke. “I had to choose. You or the light.”

  “Shhh...”

  “Couldn’t hurt you. I dropped the knife, but then I couldn’t control...”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered into her hair, wondering if she could hear my heart breaking. “It’s okay, baby.”

  Her fists knotted in my shirt and she stared up into my eyes. “It’s not okay! What if I’d chosen the light? I could have stabbed you. And then I would have run. Would have left you to bleed out—”

  “But you didn’t. Okay? You didn’t.” I lifted her chin and kissed her lips then pressed my butterfly knife into her hand. “I’m going to go get the SUV. Thirty seconds and I’ll be back. Start counting them off.”

  She opened the blade and gave me a nod.

  “I want to hear you. One one thousand…”

  “Two one thousand…”

  I ran to the Range Rover, found her knife, hopped in, and drove back before she’d reached twenty. The ride back was silent. She held both her knife and mine. I would have dumped an arsenal into her lap if I had it at my fingertips.

  “Here we are. Safe and sound,” I said, when we pulled up in front of her apartment complex.

  “Will you—”

  “How about if I—”

  We spoke at the same time and she smiled.

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  “I was just going to ask you if you were going to come up.”

  “I want to if that’s still okay with you.” I took my butterfly knife back and threaded my fingers through hers.

  “I’d like that, but I don’t want to…”

  “I just want to hold you. I promise.”

  I turned off the SUV before she could say anything else and darted around the car to open her door. I gathered her into my arms like she was spun glass and a single touch of her toe to the ground would shatter her.

  “I don’t need you to carry me. My ankle doesn’t hurt that much. I can walk,” she protested, her voice regaining a bit of her usual strength and attitude.

  “I know that. I’ve never met a woman more capable than you.” Her eyes rounded in surprise at my words and I squeezed her tighter against me. “But I need you to let me carry you. Please.”

  She studied my face for a long moment then nodded. When she wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

  The elevator ride to her floor was silent, but not uncomfortably so. Her kisses against my neck sent shudders down my spine. When they turned into nibbles I moaned and tilted my head to give her more access even though I was playing with fire.

  “Baby, please,” I said. “I promised to just hold you.”

  Her husky laugh scorched down my spine. “I never asked for that promise.”

  “But you said you didn’t want to do anything.”

  “No, I didn’t. You cut me off.” She kissed up to my ear as the elevator doors slid open. “I was going to say that I didn’t want to talk.”

  “What do you want then?”

  She pulled back and the desire faded from her gaze. Instead, those eyes that reminded me so much of Highland skies promised me things I never dreamed I’d have again. I wanted...no, I needed to hear the actual words, though.

  “Tell me what you need, Bryn. Please.”

  “You.” She cupped my face in her hands. “All I need is you.”

  “Yes.” I carried her into her apartment without another word.

  Then I gave her my body while she whispered those words again and again against my skin.

  “All I need is you.”

  As she slept on my chest, warm and content, her limbs tangled with mine, I swallowed my guilt and shame and held her tighter. She gave me everything tonight and she deserved the same in return.

  She deserved someone she could trust, someone who wasn’t chained to a monster, someone brave enough to gamble the truth for a chance at forever in her arms.

  But she had me, a coward and a liar.

  CHAPTER 34

  BRYN

  I opened my eyes to the breathtaking swirl of Trygg’s aura. Green, orange, and blue danced around him in a ballet of light and I had the best seat in the house. In the darkness of my bedroom, the pulsing glow around him was the only thing keeping me from going into complete panic mode. I’d been fighting this same battle every night for the past two weeks.

  I thought I was getting better, but tonight’s panic attack in the parking lot proved that I still had a long way to go. LED night lights, plugged into the two outlets in the room, still weren’t enough illumination to hold back the tidal wave of emotion crashing over me.

  My muscles, so languid only seconds ago from Trygg’s lovemaking, tensed. I needed more light. As stealthily as I could, I slipped out of his arms and snatched up my robe. It took me three shaky tries to p
ut my arms through the holes and by the time I cinched the belt, my lungs were like bellows. I looked back at the bed and Trygg’s beautiful aura. With his colors no longer soaking into my skin, the darkness snatched me up, chewed on my calm.

  What are you most afraid of, little Brynja?

  I only had another hour before dawn, according to the clock. I’d just start the day early. Go to the kitchen. Make breakfast. Oh god, I really needed to get to the kitchen. I hobbled through the door. Gimped down the hallway as quickly as I could, hitting the linoleum in a coltish skid.

  Light switch?

  Flip the switch.

  Flip the switch!

  Flip. The. Switch!

  Light flooded the space.

  Keep moving. Get a weapon.

  A knife?

  Two knives. One for each hand.

  I spun on one foot, knives clenched in each fist and searched the room through sweat-and-tear-blurred vision.

  Deep breath. Slow exhale. Shake it off.

  Look at every corner.

  Are we good? No bogeymen?

  Svartalf. They’re Svartalf, I corrected the terrified little girl in my head. They’re not bogeymen. Stop giving them more power than they deserve! They might be able to hide in the shadows, but they still bleed. We can kill them.

  I can kill them.

  And if they came for me, I would.

  You’re one of us. Your body belongs to the King.

  I shook my head. No, I belonged to me. They had no say, no power. Seven-year-old me might have been susceptible to talk of fate or wyrd, as my torturer had called it. But those beliefs belonged on another world, off in the ether somewhere, in a place I’d never seen and probably never would. In Asgard, three women—the Norns—were supposedly carving my destiny into Yggdrasil.

  Whatever.

  That’s not how I worked. Screw the Norns. My fate was my own. I chose what I embraced in my life. If I wanted to slink into the shadows or stand proud in the light, it was my decision. I glared at the shadows that grew deeper the farther from the kitchen I looked.

  I wasn’t King Alvis’s daughter.