Page 20 of Tyrant

Snatching her hand, I tug her along behind me, “Come on. This conversation needs to be between you and me, not a club full of ears.”

“You weren’t wearing a vest when I met you,” she mentions.

“I took it off to be respectful. We were riding in some others’ territory, and if I didn’t let them know ahead of time, a few would’ve taken offense. I wasn’t trying to bring unnecessary heat down on my club and my brothers. Would’ve gotten bloody, and I just wanted to go to a concert,” I mutter. She doesn’t gasp in outrage, so I take it as a good sign.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can be alone.” I lead her through the clubhouse until we get to my personal room. It’s not much, just a regular bedroom, bathroom, and a little black wood desk I built a while back, clad with a personal coffee maker and mini fridge. I don’t generally eat and drink in here but I like having the option if I want to. I shut my door, locking it behind us. “Wantsomething to drink? I have sweet tea and water or I can make some coffee if you’d like.”

She glances around, taking in the space. It’s clean. I’m not a neat freak, but I’m not a slob either. “I’ll take some sweet tea, please. Thank you.”

I grab one of the bottles out of the fridge, twist the top open for her, and hand it over. I bet she hasn’t eaten anything today either. Knowing her, she’s only had water all day. “You. Uh, doing alright? The trip wasn’t too rough?” I find myself asking instead of demanding the heavy answers right away.

“It was fine. I saw my face on the television in the bus station, though, so that part sucked.”

“I knew you were running from something.”

She nods, gesturing to the bed, and I dip my chin. She sits with my permission and I appreciate her taking the time to ask before taking over my shit. I wouldn’t have minded either way, but still, it’s the respect that plays a big hand on how I look at people. “I have skeletons in my closet.”

“Yeah. I’d guessed as much when you were having nightmares, along with you being on the side of the road, willing to go to Vegas with a stranger. Now, explain how you’re married, but yet you married me in Vegas.” Did I mention I’m pissed to hear of her belonging to another man? Because in my mind she is already mine and the concept of another coming for her makes me feel more like a junkyard dog, ready to tear someone a part rather than an ordinary man, with basic needs.

Her cheeks blush an addictive shade of pink, making me want to lean in and kiss her. I don’t.

“It’s not as devious as you’re thinking, at least not on my part.”

I dip my head so she’ll keep going and grab for a box of cheesy-ranch crackers. I take a handful before offering the box to her. She licks her lips and stares at them a beat before I shove them closer so she’ll take the damn box and eat some crackers. I knowshe’s hungry but too proud to admit as much and besides, it’s not like I’m offering her a steak, just some snacks. Although if she wants steak, I can arrange that too. We’ll see just how good this ‘other husband’ measures up when compared to me.

“Alright, so tell me about it then.” I relax back, crossing my ankles, attempting to be calm for her when inside I’m truly feeling like I want to break this guy’s hands to begin with.

“I was away at college when my parents sold their belongings. They moved to a gated community, and I came home to visit. Their sudden change didn’t sit well with me. I stayed with them for a holiday break and found out they’d moved to a religious neighborhood and were surrounded by kind people, wanting to live a slower paced life. I thought it was wonderful for them, and no longer worried, I returned to school.”

“You met this douche bag in college, then?”

She shakes her head. Pops a couple crackers in her mouth, chews, swallows, then sips the tea. “I kept coming back to visit my parents because everyone was kind and welcoming. We’d aways gone to church and such…”

“Fuck. Don’t tell me,” I cut in, connecting the dots, “is it that place east of Huntsville?”

She nods, gaze in her lap as if she has something to be ashamed of. No fucking way, she’s not to blame for anything, there’s not a doubt in my mind. “T-they seemed so genuine. Like good people.” She swallows and I can tell it’s from her voice growing hoarse with emotion.

“You’re safe, here, with me. I promise you that,” I say, and her lip trembles. Her gaze flicks to mine. She must recognize the sincerity in my stern gaze because she nods and continues her story.

“I wanted to return, to spend time with my family and even the others. It was a community. Before I knew it, I was switching to the long-distance program to finish my classes so I could staywith them. Eventually it kept changing, they’d keep me busy, and I became friends with the leader’s son.”

“Don’t they call him Profit or some shit? I saw a few news articles.”

“Yes. The last Profit died and his son took over.”

“Oh fuck no,” I can’t help but burst and a few tears escape her beautiful big brown eyes, trailing over her pale cheeks.

“He asked me to marry him and it was expected of me. I couldn’t say no without embarrassing my parents and upsetting the members of the community. There was so much pressure.”

“They never should’ve had you in that position.” I’m fucking fuming inside, ready to blow a goddamn gasket and burn down that fucking cult. Everyone around here knows damn well it’s a religious cult with a leader who believes he’s magical or some shit. Like he’s a legit God. Give me a motherfucking break. I will put this guy in the ground so fast he won’t know what hit him.

“She draws in a shaky breath and confesses, “So, I married him. I tried so hard to be a good wife and adapt to their way of life, I truly did. I got pregnant and had my precious daughter. Once I had her, it was like a light was suddenly shining over everything. I don’t know if things got worse or if I had rose-colored glasses on for a while, but after her…it all became clear. The abuse, physically and mentally. I knew I had to escape.”

“He hurt you? He touched you? I’m gonna fucking tear him straight up the middle for ever laying a finger on you, Sugar.” I’m saying the words before I think about them, the promises spill out almost on their own accord.

“His followers, t-they believe anything he tells them. It’s crazy there, almost surreal. I had to get out to save my daughter.”

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