"Jesus Christ." Alfie exhaled, his tone somewhere between the realms of disgust and disbelief.
Nate exhaled slowly through his nose. That Viggo Sayer was a piece of shit wasn't news to him. The Sayer Springs pack had a reputation, and not a good one. But a father treating their own child, even a grown one, with such casual contempt went against the very nature of their kind.
"You'll find that's not how problems are managed in Greyson Falls," Nate said.
He didn't raise his voice, but when he spoke, the words carried low and steady, and his gaze wasn't on Viggo but his daughter. The words for her and her alone. She still hovered back near the truck, arms crossed tight over her chest. Her blue eyes, which had been fixed on the treeline, snapped to meet his again.
The breeze ran its cold fingers through her long blonde hair, tugging a few more strands loose from the braid that hung over her shoulder and carrying another whiff of that artificial vanilla to him.
Vivienne felt his voice like a touch, firm and warm, and swallowed hard. She looked away first, dropping her gaze down and to the side.
Viggo snorted, tossed his cigarette to the ground, and stepped on it.
"Your pack, your rules, Greyson."
Karl had hauled a large bag, what looked like someone's old hockey duffel, from the back of the truck. He dropped it and another, smaller duffel bag on the ground. The sum total of all that Vivienne wanted to bring with her from Sayer Springs into this unknown future.
"This is it?" Alfie put into words what Nate had also been thinking. Karl shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at Vivienne, who simply nodded once. Alfie shrugged the big hockey duffel over one shoulder, hooking the smaller one into the crook of his elbow. The paperwork neatly folded and tucked into his back pocket.
Nate shifted, intending to allow for a private goodbye, but Viggo had already reached his daughter. He watched as the man clasped the back of her neck roughly, watched Vivienne go carefully still under his touch. "You best behave." Viggo said, releasing her only after she replied with a "Yes sir," Nate suspected she'd said a dozen times a day since she learned to speak.
"Gonna miss you Vivi," Karl said, sidling up. Her careful stillness broke into a recoil as he reached out and tugged on the end of her braid, her lips drawing up just enough to flash the white of her teeth. Karl's smile stretched into a leer. "Don't forget to write home." She jerked back, and he chuckled.
"Go on then," Viggo said, lighting up another cigarette, the driver's side door of the truck already open.
Whatever tension Nate felt, and there was no small amount of it after Viggo's comments and Karl's sleazy bullshit, he kept it well banked behind a mask of steady composure. He waited, hands in the pockets of his dark canvas jacket, Alfie behind him, for Vivienne to cross the demarcation line and step into Greyson Falls territory.
When she did, stopping about a foot away from him, Nate said easy and low: "Welcome to Greyson Falls, Vivienne."
"Thank you." She said, the words tight, her eyes carefully fixed on the trees and away from Nate again.
"Pleasure doing business with you Greyson." Viggo said, slamming his truck door.