Page 2 of Tyrant

She offers me a small smile, and I grab my bag. I have more stuff with me too, but I leave it hidden behind the library. Thankfully, no one messes with it or tries to steal my shit. Not that I have much to begin with, but still, you never know who will come along worse off than you. A hard lesson I learned when going out on the street was that no one cares. They don’t give a shit if you have nothing, if you’re hungry, hot, exhausted, or if you were abused. Everyone has a sob story, and they’re quick to take what’s accessible to them.

I use the hand soap she has next to the sink and scrub my hair first. I wash it twice for good measure then wring the water out, putting it into a bun and securing it with a rubber band I find in one of the cubbies. It’ll stay the cleanest that way. I scrub my face, neck, ears, and arms next. Once I’m feeling ten times lighter and smelling a little better, I fill up my gallon jug with water. I use a few paper towels to clean up the area and check the cubbies for the snacks she mentioned. Those go into my backpack, and I stop by the bathroom on my way. I have a washcloth, so I use that and some hand soap to wash my body. I don’t like taking up the bathroom for a long time in case anyone comes in, so I always split my washing time up and also clean up after myself.

Shannon could run me out, but she chooses kindness instead. In return, I do everything I can to make sure stuff is left the way I found it for her, or if it’s dirty I’ll clean it up so she doesn’t have to. I wish I’d gotten a job here, but they’re obviously way worse off than I realized if the place is being forced to shut down and they can’t afford some cheap under-the-table labor. Makes me sad ‘cause there’s not much to do here that’s free. There’sthe park, but they don’t have air conditioning or books to read. If you’re caught sleeping at night or whatever, the local law enforcement will push you out. They won’t give you a ride or take you to jail, though, they just make you leave the property. I tried to go against it once, but they threatened to pepper spray me and then leave me in my misery. Pretty assholish if you ask me, but they can’t all be good people, which this town has proven time and again.

“Here’s the latest that I don’t think you’ve read.”

Glancing at the colorful stack of titles, I nod. “Thank you. They don’t sound familiar. No dick sucking?”

She blushes, admitting, “They always have it, but it’s not as bad in these.”

I nod again. “Good deal. Bad enough I’ve had to suck one, I’m not trying to dream about the shit later too.”

She laughs and holds the door open for me. “I’ll see you hopefully tomorrow. I’m not sure when they’ll lock the doors for good, but it could be any day.”

“Have a good night,” I say and take off walking towards the wooded area behind the library where my other stuff is. Once I grab it, I stay off to the side, out of sight, but wait around. I watch for Shannon, making sure she gets to her car without any issues. Once she drives off and I know she’s safely on her way home, I leave. I could go to the shelter, but what’s the point? I could also have their hot meal of heated up soup and a cheese sandwich, but I’d rather skip it tonight. I’m getting more and more used to being hungry so that my stomach doesn’t hurt as badly.

Hunger and homelessness have kept me safer than marriage and a home ever did.

Chapter 2

Tyrant

“Igot tickets,” I mention as I stare down at my phone. I’m excited inside but you wouldn’t know it looking at me as I glare down at the screen. The fucking words keepgetting jumbled up, but I think I did everything right. I hand the phone off to Prez, knowing he’ll check them out without me having to ask. He’s aware I’m dyslexic and don’t like to talk about it. I’d rather pretend it doesn’t exist, and for the most part, I’m able to.

Thankfully, my brothers step in from time to time to help me out if I need it, but I’ve figured out a way to get by my entire life, so it is what it is. I can’t help but feel it’s still pretty fuckin’ embarrassing, though. I’m a dude, I’m not supposed to show weakness in any way, and people are stupid enough to believe that’s what it is. When folks hear the word dyslexic, they don’t realize we just process shit differently. Bet I could run circles around them back in the day when it came to math, hell, probably science too, but who am I to point out I’m smarter than them where it counts.

Havoc takes the phone from me, glances at it, and nods. “Good seats.” I don’t say it aloud, but it’s a relief I didn’t fuck up my chances of seeing my favorite band in concert. “Las Vegas, huh? Helluva ride, may as well see Hunter and Beast while you’re that far west.”

We’re cool with a few of the guys in the VII Knights MC, and while I wouldn’t mind seeing them, I’m not riding all the way out to shithole Cali. “If they’re down for a weekend in Vegas, otherwise, I’ll catch them the next time we go on a run or they’re headed our way. I got an extra ticket; you feel like leaving Alabama and watching some metal? I tried for a closer concert location, but they sold out quick.”

“Nah, I have some shit to handle around here. You should take a chick, relax a little, and have some fun.”

“We’ll see. I’ll figure something out ‘cause no fucking way am I missing that show.” I reply with a shrug and look for the other brothers.

I check with Rogue and Creed next, but they have other stuff to do as well. I could call my buddy Sterling from the Georgia chapter, but I doubt he’ll want to leave his girl. He just found out they’re expecting another baby, so he’s all about being around his ol’ lady. I’ll head up on my own. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a ride alone. I enjoy time with my brothers but, I know I won’t mind the silence on the way either.

I pack a few things I’ll need, mostly just a pair of jeans, underwear, a clean shirt, and deodorant. It’s not like I can fit much of anything on my motorcycle, but it’s sorta the point. “Keep the bitches out of my room. It’s clean enough,” I tell the closest prospects. One’s washing dishes behind the bar and the other’s cleaning the floor. We partied pretty hard this weekend at our clubhouse, so they get the honor of cleaning up after us. “You hear me, shitbags?” We give them some hell, gotta break them a little before they ever have the opportunity to call us brother. Being in the Kings of Carnage MC is more than a basic commitment—you have to earn the cut. Whether that be cleaning up after us and taking our shit we dish out, or patching us up after we get hit with a bullet. Most of all, it means we have each other’s backs no matter what comes at us.

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Alright, Tyrant.”

“Yes, VP,” comes from behind me, and I flick a look over my shoulder. Rogue flashes a grin, and I return his teasing taunt with my middle finger.

“Later, fucker. Behave while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, okay, don’t hold your breath.”

I huff out a laugh, heading for the door. Havoc and Creed are outside, smoking a J and watching three other prospects clean our bikes. “We should make them wear maid outfits while they do this shit,” I suggest, and Creed shakes his head with a chuckle.

Havoc smirks, “You have a new kink I don’t know about?”

“Fuck off, they supposedly have dicks, so not my type of kink,” I grumble.

His chest shakes with his silent laugh. “You be careful, and hit me up.”

“Prez,” I nod my head. The word means so much more than the title. I respect him; he’s my brother and my friend. All the officers here are, I wouldn’t have the life I live if it weren’t for them.

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