Page 3 of Tyrant

She grins and shakes her head. “I’m excited to get to college. In Seattle, you and Ray won’t be able to make sure that every single boy in town is afraid to get anywhere near me.”

“I thought you didn’t know anything about that.”

She sticks her scarlet bottom lip out in a pout. “Seriously? It was so obvious. If I didn’t love you both so much, I’d hate you for wrecking my life.”

If I didn’t love you so much.

As a second older brother.

I want to apologize to her for all of this. For me. For the heat rushing through me and making me do something I haven’t done in all my life… blush. I feel like I’m the one who is standing here as a kid, not a man, hardened a lifetime over.

“I like your hair like that,” Lark whispers shyly. As in… combed and tied back. Her own is curled into an array of glossy black ringlets, threaded through with a crown of pearls. “And your beard. What do people say? You clean up well?”

The fancy words I would have had at the ready for any other woman are suddenly lodged in my throat. I finally get why so many of them are struck dumb in my presence. I promise myself right here and now I won’t ever laugh about it again. Not that I ever did it cruelly. I’ve never been cruel to a woman in my life. Even my dad, who is about as hardened and wild as they come, has always treated women like the queens they are. In our club, every woman from the club whores to the old ladies are respected. Maybe not in the way that the rest of the world would label respect, but we live different lives, and our women are a part of that, and they get it the way other people don’t.

I run my hand over the sandy beard I trimmed yesterday. It’s no longer a wild bush sprouting all over the place. I’ve been growing it since I was old enough to have my first porn stash. It felt all wrong standing over the sink, trimming it down to a respectable length.

“You look like you could go work in an office.” Lark laughs playfully. She steps forward and before I can prepare myself, she throws her arms around my neck.

Her small body with all her warmth crashes into me. The dress is thin, and I can feel thedetailsof her clean through it. The sweet perfume tickles my nose. I hope to fucking god—and I’m doubtful of an existence of any higher power except the wind and the road, the sun and the rain, the laws that are made and made to broken—that she can’t feel mydetailsat the same time.

Raiden would snap my cock clean off if he knew it ever got near his baby sister.

“Well? Should we go?” Lark asks, eyes so dark they’re nearly black, shining away in her angelic face.

“Your mom, uh…”

“She helped me get ready. She’s not going to come see us off. My dad’s out in the garage. He thinks that if he’s not here, this whole thing is different. They like to do that. Pretend things are different. I’ll never forgive them for turning their back on Ray.”

“You shouldn’t forgive me either. He should be here with you now, not me.” This whole thing is far more bitter than sweet. I’m only putting on a good face for Lark because that’s what Raiden wanted me to do. He refused to put any of his family’s names on the visitor list. He doesn’t want Lark anywhere near that place. All she can do is write and order books for him directly to the prison.

She screws up her face in the famous Lark pout. For someone so small, she’s feisty. It was always cute before, butseeing her now as a woman, it hits different. I can’t stop staring at her.

“I’m the reason your brother prospected at all. I’m the reason he had the money to buy a house as soon as he graduated so he could get out from under your parents. As soon as I got my bike license, he got his. He might have graduated and did his degree online, but he paid for it because he was with the club. Raiden’s smart. He’s a fucking genius. And I cocked it all up just by knowing him.”

She laughs like that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. She punches me hard in my upper arm. Hard enough that I feel the sting. “Jesus Christ, Tyrant. No one ever could tell Raiden a thing. You didn’t force him into anything. He didn’t do anything blindly. He knew the risks and he knew what it could cost him, and he still chose to patch in.”

I let out a long sigh. It unspools through me, unravelling me like a ball of yarn, tugging all the strings apart inside of me. I’m hurting. Lark is too. Tonight, we get to pretend like we’re not. This is her night. It’s not about anyone or anything else. I want it to be special for her.

“It’s Gray,” I rasp, firmly but gently. “Only ever Gray to you.”

She crosses her arms, which makes the front of her dress ride dangerously low. I barely resist the urge to shuck the stupid jacket I have on and wrap her in it twice over, so she’s fully covered. The thought of anyone looking at her breasts makes my blood boil and my fists itch. I have to make it through the night without smashing faces. It’s bad enough everyone knows who I am and what I do. Everyone in this place knows the club and knows I’m a one-percenter. Even those who don’t realize that werun Hart to the extent we do, will see the bowed stone angel with its wings spread wide as if I was wearing my vest.

“Okay, Gray. Let’s go. I’ve never been on the back of your bike.”

The sudden light that flares in her eyes makes my stomach lurch with alarm. She doesn’t understand. She’s not part of the life. Raiden and I have worked hard to keep her safe and innocent. She’s ridden with him, but never with me. It means something, to be on the back of a man’s bike. Something she can’t comprehend. Thinking about her back there, her body pressed against mine, arms locked onto me, physically hurts in all the wrong ways because I have never, ever once considered it. The horrible static of attraction booms through my veins. I can’t turn it off.

“I brought a car tonight.” And since it’s Gunner’s, I checked the trunk and backseat thoroughly for bodies and bloodstains.

Lark’s face falls. “But you hate cars.”

“The bike would have messed up your hair and it is far too perfect and lovely to mess up.”

There’s no flattery in it, even though I tried to pour it on thick. She’s not fooled, and she’s not distracted, but she does offer me her arm and give me a sassy smirk. “Let’s go then, my white knight for tonight. I have to say though, Gray, it doesn’t suit you at all. You’re much more fun as the devil everyone says that you are.”

“Devil’s spawn,” I correct tightly—my nickname in this stupid fucking place since I was just a kid. Grow up the son of the president of a notorious motorcycle club in a small city,and people are going to know who you are. That shit sticks. I soon learned how to wear it with pride instead of confusion and shame, which only irritated people more.

Something flashes in Lark’s eyes, something angry and protective, but she twists her arm to elbow me in the side playfully. “Well then, devil’s spawn… your chariot cage awaits us.”

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