Vikings of Asgard Chapter 10 Curley

Racism threatens the bikers' survival

The late morning sun beat down on two men as they left the shadow of the castle-gate tunnel and stepped onto the dirt road. The bulky, black-haired, bearded elder looked at the younger. “Jimmy, I need a bodyguard. Do you think you’re up to it?”

The skinny, sandy-brown-haired, eighteen-year-old puffed up. “Don’t trust this Red Baron? I wouldn’t either.”

Bob snickered. “Red Baron, that’s good. He’s just some young punk, and I don’t trust him, or his people. But they don’t concern me. Right now, if I have an accident, one of the others would be offered the title. It is a prize too tempting for a couple of them, and you damn well know who.”

“Oh. Hadn’t considered that.”