Owning His Virgin

“Fine, no thanks to you, considering you put him at risk,” he says, grinding his teeth.

“Brand,” his woman says, putting her hand on his back. “You know it can happen to anyone, babe.”

“Not when he goes off book without warning or regard for anyone else. I’m assuming she is the reason my brother's life was jeopardized.” Oh hell no.

“Brand, I respect the hell out of your family, but you are walking a fine line. Do all of us a favor and walk away.” I warn him, ready to pounce if I have to. My attention turns back to Teresa right before I see the tears streak her face and she bolts from the table. Shit. I stand to go after her, but Jaymes puts her hand out and goes instead. Standing toe to toe with Brand, I issue my final warning. “Are you happy? She is innocent in all of this. If you ever disrespect her again, I will fucking hurt you, Jorgensen. Do you understand?”

He sneers back and moves closer to me. “Is that so?”

“Fellas, not in my place.” Loki Jorgensen comes to stand between us. “Diezal, here is your check. Thank you for dining with us. Uncle Brand, please go to the kitchen and cool off.” He better fucking listen, or this place will be closed for an entirely different reason.

Chapter Eight

Teresa

The tears fall because I can’t help it. It breaks my heart that someone got hurt because Diezal was looking for me. I stare at myself in the mirror, feeling guilty. What was he thinking? I know he loves me, he finally told me, but this is too much. If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d say I wasn’t worth saving. While I was being held, I had nothing but time to think. Nothing but time to feel guilty over the number of girls who were sold because of me. I hate my father for making me take part in that. Those poor souls are on my head, and no one should have to feel this way.

Om Jorgensen is just another casualty of my inability to get out from under my father’s thumb. He threatened to kill me, but I should have just died instead of doing what I did. No amount of love can change that, can it? All at once, the feelings of guilt I’ve held in for the last year overwhelm me. The tears flow harder until I am sobbing uncontrollably. I’m crying big, ugly tears. They are the can’t speak, can’t breathe kind of tears. Already, my mascara is running down my face. I look like a sad racoon. So attractive, I think sarcastically.

“Are you in here?” The woman from the table asks, coming into the bathroom. The bathroom at UTGARD is interesting. The faucets are shaped like dragons. There is Norse symbols on the walls and Nordic folk music plays softly. The air smells amazing, like wood burning. Normally, this type of atmosphere would calm me down, but it isn’t working. I sit down on the bench provided opposite the row of sinks.

“Y-yes,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m Jaymes Jorgensen, by the way. That big lug out there is my husband, Brand. Slow down and take a deep breath or you’ll make yourself sick,” she says, sitting down beside me. She rubs my back, comforting me.

“I’m Teresa Del Vecchio,” I finally manage to say.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, smiling at me.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Listen, I know you are upset, but there’s something you should know about these guys,” she begins.

“What’s that?” I ask, sniffling.

“They have the biggest egos on the planet as well as the biggest hearts. They’d give you the shirt off their backs if you needed it and when they love you, they love with every ounce of their being. That family… It's not like any other. They’re almost magical. Their belief in the heritage makes them, I don’t know, modern day warriors. We like to call them filthy modern Vikings.”

“That just makes it worse,” I say. “Why was everyone so nice to me when they all knew? I’m the reason someone they love was hurt.”

“Teresa, friends don’t act that way. You’ve been through something terrible. I don’t know the specifics, of course but it was terrible. It had to be for them to get involved. They take the cases no one else can, not even the government. Besides, they know what they’re doing, what they’re signing up for when they join up. This thing with Om would have happened whether you were there or not. It’s the way the cookie crumbles sometimes and good people get hurt. It’s not ideal, but they do this because no one else can or will. They save the people who would be forgotten if not for them.”

Her words make me pause and think. I have to be that kind of person. As soon as I am not pregnant, I have to stop my father. One way or another, he’ll never hurt anyone else again. It’s the only way I can be free. I may be able to forgive myself, but I’ll never forget the terrible things I’ve done, even by proxy.