Page 8 of Tyrant

Hurting.

“Love doesn’t hurt,” I whisper.

Tyrant catches it, his head cocking to the side. He’s no doubt confused by my quiet rambling. But I have to remind myself, again and again. “Yeah, Sugar. You said some things. As soon as you started crying, I tried to wake you up.”

My hands go to my cheeks, finding them still damp from my drying tears. How embarrassing. I’m sure this guy wasn’t expecting to pick up a broken woman when he saw me on the side of the road. Remembering the manners that have been ingrained in me, I apologize. “Sorry for the fuss and thank you. I don’t mean to be a bother. I’ll be better.”

“Don’t apologize to me; you have nothing to be sorry for. I told you I’d make sure you were safe, and I meant it, even if it’s from your dreams.” He says the words quietly, almost as if he’s trying to be gentle with me but doesn’t quite know how to do so.

A cool breeze hits my sweaty skin and then I’m shivering for an entirely different reason. “Did it get colder?”

He hands me a water, and I drink greedily, clearing the croak from my throat in the process. It helps bring me to the present and I glance around, taking in the open field. It’s kind of beautiful here. To be in the abundance of HIS land and the purity of it. This is what life should be like. Freedom with the clean air surrounding me and a person who doesn’t know me from Adam, yet shows his kindness in his actions. To think the community would shun someone like him, banish him for being a sinful man. Yet he’s already proven to be better than they are.

Everything would be perfect, if my heart wasn’t forced to leave the most important person to me behind with that congregationof evil.I have to get her back. She’s the one who gave me the courage to leave so I could find a way to save her too.

Chapter 6

Tyrant

“It’s cooling off. Fall’s here, and we’re heading Midwest. It’ll be much cooler than Alabama. You ever go that far?” I ask, wanting to help her clear her mind of whateverhorror she’d been dreaming about.

“No, first time.”

I nod. “It gets chilly, especially at night. We’re in Oklahoma, but just wait, the further west we go, the cooler the nights are filled with warm days. It’ll fuck you up if you’re not prepared for it.”

“You’ve been there before?”

“Many times on runs and such,” I reply automatically, not stopping to consider she may not know what any of that means. “Scoot on in, so I can keep you warm.” I turn onto my side to block the wind on one side. My hand goes to her waist, scooting her until her side is pressed to my chest. I tug her until she turns onto her side as well, facing me, her face lightly pressed to my chest, then fix her tiny blanket to drape over her back and cover the small gap between us. “Better?” It leaves me in a rumble, enjoying having her like this. My arm drapes over her side and back, keeping her blanket in place and giving her more of my warmth.

“You’re not cold?”

“Nah.” I really want to tell her it’s impossible to be anything but hot having her so fucking close to me. If she gets any colder, I may offer to lay my body on top of hers, then fireworks will be happening for sure. I’ll come, she’ll orgasm a few times, then we’ll both sleep better. With the amusing thought, I close my eyes and concentrate on pretending like she’s not in my arms and eventually drift off to sleep again.

It goes the same way for the next two nights as well, only it gets increasingly harder and harder to keep my hands off of her. Sleeping next to someone, especially being in that proximity, and an intimacy starts to take shape. Three nights of sleeping together under the stars without another person around, and the last night we’re outside, the desert is a chilly bitch. I woke up toher underneath me, my body shielding hers and offering her my body weight.

As soon as we woke up and I felt my stiff dick, I jumped off. She couldn’t look at me all morning without her cheeks blazing crimson. It makes me think she’s a bit more innocent or shy than I’d originally pegged her for. Rather than say shit about it, I’ve decided it might be best to back off a bit. I was getting a little too comfortable, constantly considering her comfort and well-being before my own, and I barely know the chick. We ride for eight hours each day, so there’s not much talking done during the day. It’s the nights that are getting me. We lay in the dark, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, under a bright moon, twinkling stars, all alone together, and it feels like we have all the time in the world to just talk. I can’t remember ever wanting to simply have a conversation with a chick I was aching to fuck. And trust me, there’s one hell of an ache going on between my legs.

Anyway, the normal amount of time I’d spend balls deep in a chick, I’m using to talk instead. Blair’s a bit reserved, which I can’t blame her for since we’ve barely gotten acquainted, but she still shares bits and pieces of her life. Take, for example, she went to college. She’s a smarty pants, not just a hottie pants, and I’m finding it real attractive on her. I’ve never cared if a chick I was spending time with went to school for anything, but ever since our conversation about it happened, I find myself, when I’m rolling down the road and unable to speak to Blair, lost in my head. Wondering which girls, if any, that I’ve fucked have gone to college.

It's even more ridiculous, in my opinion, because none of those chicks are around or mean anything significant in my life. Sounds piggish, but it’s not. I’m simply keeping it real. Another thing I’ve picked up on is this faraway expression she’ll get at times, and at others, she’ll start to say something then stop.Makes me wonder if she’s got a kid or if she’s just worried about that monster she briefly touched on in the beginning.

Each night she dreams, and every time I’m startled awake because of her nightmares. Last night, when I woke her up, it was cold, and she’d clung to my chest. I think it’s how we ended up with me on top of her, practically smothering her smaller frame with mine. When I try to ask her if she’s okay and if she wants to talk about it, she swears she’s fine. I’m not dumb; I’ve been around men who’ve seen some shit for my entire life, practically. I’ve had ties to the club for as long as I can remember with my uncle and cousins. I show her the same respect I give any of them and shut my damn mouth. If she wants to share, she will. I hope.

It takes us a little over two hours on our last day riding before we finally make it into the city. “This place is nice.” She glances around the hotel after we’ve climbed off my motorcycle, and the guy at valet has promised they’re keeping it up front with the other bikes.

Nodding, I explain, “I’ve learned with shit like this, it’s better to find a secure lot where my bike won’t get stolen. It’s too crazy on concert nights to go anywhere anyway. I try to find good parking, and a close hotel to any events I attend makes shit easier. The last thing I want to do is drive around this God-awful city.”

“Not a fan of Las Vegas?”

“Fuck no. Too noisy. Too full. Come on, let’s get checked in.”

She follows me inside without argument but not for lack of trying previously on her part. I made sure she was well aware two nights ago that we’d be staying at a hotel for tonight and tomorrow night. The concert is later today, but I’ll need tomorrow to recoup, I’m sure. After we get time to chill, she’s going to ride back with me but get off once we’re on the outskirts of Alabama. She doesn’t know where she’s going, just that itneeds to be close to Alabama but not too close. Those were her words, not mine.

I pass the lady standing behind the fake marble front desk my ID and credit card, then wait for her to do her tap-tap on her keyboard and find my reservation. She sighs, then huffs, then mutters to herself. Finally she meets my gaze, appearing a little frightened and a lot intimidated by my presence. “I’m so sorry, sir, but our system is completely down. It’s been giving me issues the past few hours.”

I offer a shrug in return, because I have no idea what her system being shut down means for me. “I just need my room key, don’t care about anything else.”

“Right, um, can you fill this out so when we’re back online, I can get you checked in? I have you on my list as an incoming reservation, but can’t bring anything else up.” She sets my ID and credit card on top of two papers. One has credit card symbols on it with tiny writing and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo, and the other one is a blank piece of printer paper with hand-drawn lines and gibberish beside it. Whoever made this has seriously shitty penmanship.

---