Page 151 of Challenge Me

Remi turned the case to get a better view of the model car. It was her favorite, the red Mustang like the one she carried around. The paint had more of a shimmer to it, and there was quite a bit of detail. On the side, ‘Little Valkyrie’ was written in white cursive letters, and a wing was drawn from the door to above the back tire.

“This is the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he said excitedly. He swung himself over the counter and landed next to Mal. “I’m going to hug you.”

He barely waited a second before he pulled her into his arms. She made a disgruntled sound and didn’t return it, but she didn’t push him away. After he pulled back, he wiped beneath his eye.

Her brow tightened as she took him in him. “Sad?”

He laughed. “No, not sad. Happy.”

“Okay.”

“God, I love you, kid.”

She looked away from him, which seemed to amuse him more.

“Alright, let’s see if your dad can live up to you.” When he pulled my gift closer, I felt a wave of nerves wash over me.

This one was easier for him to open, but he still went right to shredding the paper. It revealed a box made of teakwood with a hinged lid and a brass latch closure. He ran his fingers across the top of it, which had a hand-engraved depiction of Yggdrasil on it—the world tree. Its roots and branches sprawled across the lid in fine detail, and hidden among the branches were Huginn and Muninn, one with wings half-spread and the other perched, simply watching. There were more carvings around the sides, mostly runic script and faint knotwork. He studied every inch of it reverently, lingering on the script.

“Can you read it?” I asked.

“I know ‘thought’, ‘memory’, and ‘fire’. For all I know, it could be about that shit I took after doing the One Chip challenge.”

I snorted a laugh. Touching the front, I felt the letters there. “‘For Thought and Memory, and the fire that binds them.’ At least, that’s what the guy told me. He looked legit.”

“What does ‘looked legit’ mean here?”

“He was blond, he had braids, and his beard was impressive.”

Remi smiled as he unlatched the box. A puff of air escaped him when he saw what was inside. Picking up the bottle of whiskey, he turned it carefully one way, then the other. Two cigars were wrapped together on the other side, tied with a thin black string that was burned at the ends. There was a matchbox in the middle, which bore the words, ‘May what burns cleanse, not consume’. The matches inside were tipped in black phosphorous instead of red.

Across the top, I’d had the guy engrave, ‘Fire for the gods, whiskey for their trouble’. As Remi’s fingers brushed over it, his face pinched.

“This . . .”

Leaning closer to Mal, I dropped my voice conspiratorially. “Do you think he likes it?”

“No.”

I scoffed, then turned back to Remi, who looked away from me.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered.

“Mal got a hug. We could start there.” He nearly jumped into my arms, and I caught him around the waist with a laugh. “Happy birthday, Remi.”

“Thank you. I . . .” He pulled back and cleared his throat. Without another word, he turned around as if he was going to return to his office.

“What is it?”

“I love you,” he said, so quietly I thought I could have misheard him.

When he started walking, I rushed forward and pivoted to stand in front of him. I took his cheeks in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Do you want to say that to my face, baby?”

“No.”

“Reconsider.”

His jaw clenched a few times. When his eyes finally met mine, they were a sea of vulnerability. “I love you.”