Page 24 of Odin's Treasure
Every single biker in the room moved at once, surging forward.
Reggie and his deputies moved fast, swinging their guns around, stopping everyone in their tracks.
“Nobody fucking move,” Reggie snarled, spit flying from his mouth.
Reid tried to go around me to get to his dad, but I grabbed onto his arm and held on tight, shaking my head at him.
My ex-husband had no problem smacking me around when he got angry. I didn’t doubt for even a second that he’d hurt a kid if he felt like it.
“This is police brutality!” Dollar shouted, his face turning bright red. “I’m calling the fucking Governor! You can’t just?—”
“I can do whatever the hell I want in my town,” Reggie cut him off, his voice cold.
But I could see it in his eyes as he glanced around at all the angry bikers staring him down—the doubt creeping in.
He glanced over at his deputies. “Let’s go,” he said, starting to back toward the door. “But we’ll be back. With a warrant.”
“Good luck with that,” Dollar called after him.
The second the door slammed shut behind them, I let go of Reid’s arm and rushed over to where Odin was pushing himself up off the floor.
“Oh God,” I gasped when I got a good look at him.
There was a deep gash through his eyebrow, and blood was streaming down the side of his face.
Caroline appeared beside me, pressing a stack of napkins into my hands. “Here, honey.”
I pressed one of the napkins against his eyebrow, trying to stop the bleeding, but my hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold it steady. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Odin pushed the napkin away from his face and climbed to his feet, swaying a little bit once he was standing.
“You need to sit down,” I told him, grabbing onto his arm to steady him.
“I’m fine,” he rumbled, shaking me off.
Concerned and a little afraid, I followed him down a hallway and into what I was pretty sure was his bedroom, then into the bathroom attached to it. He pulled open a cabinet under the sink and grabbed a first aid kit.
“Give me that,” I said, taking the kit from his hands before he could argue. “Sit down.”
“I’m fine,” he grunted again.
“You’re not,” I snapped, holding my ground.
Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, he sighed and dropped down onto the closed toilet seat.
He wasn’t fine. He was bleeding all over the place.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re stubborn?”
I snorted. “I could say the same thing to you.”
“Fair enough.”
Without really thinking about what I was doing, I stepped between his legs and tilted his head back so I could get a better look at the cut on his eyebrow.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered again as I carefully started cleaning the blood away from the wound. “He’s—he shouldn’t have?—”
“Not your fault, baby.”
