Page 87 of What Lies Within

Kane lunges from the seat, his hand around my throat before I can navigate a step backwards that wouldn’t have me trip over the goddamn coffee table and into the fire. “Who hides behind those legs, Rae? Huh? Ain’t that you?” The smirk that curls his mouth is pure evil. “Or you too busy spreading yours?”

I slap him. He may have me by the throat, but he’s not out of my reach. My palm connects with his face, a loud crack in the otherwise quiet room.

A precious second passes, and then his fingers inch together.

I feel the moment he cuts blood flow to my brain.

The pressure compounds.

“Quit it…” I croak, swinging my arm at his head, hoping to distract him enough that he relents.

Yet my arms are already lead, my vision tunneling.Fuck.Is this how I die? Not to a crazy bitch who chased me with a knife.Not to a kingpin who needs witnesses silenced. Not to an abusive fiancé.

But to the bruised ego of a biker prince with an inflated sense of self-importance.

Damn…

“The FUCK?” The roar cuts through my fading awareness.

Kane releases me with such speed that I fail to recalibrate. The room swims, and I sway left, collapsing partially against the sofa, mainly on the floor.

The Chesterfield screeches across the floor under my weight, tearing away from me as boots pound the ground beside my head.

“Rae?” I cling to the familiar musk of Digger’s scent.

My consciousness returns, yet it’s slow and not without a healthy dose of nausea.

“I’m okay.” I blindly reach for him to pat his arm and assure him I’m fine.

I swat air.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” Tyke roars to my right. I catch sight of his legs, blocking Kane from my view.

Maybe it's the lack of oxygen, or perhaps it's the crazy-ass day I've had. But I laugh—hysterically.

It does nothing to stall the ensuing argument.

“Was puttin’ your uncle to ground today not enough?” Tyke continues, the strength of his baritone shaking the floor beneath me. “You want me to send you with him?”

"Like you'd dare," Kane hollers. "You didn't have the guts to do what was needed with Fox, to begin with, and look where that got us.” He drops a bitter laugh. “Do you feelanyresponsibility for what happened to Maddie?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then fuckin’ show it!”

“What’d you have me do, boy?” Tyke takes a step forward as Digger lifts my head to his lap. “You want me to give in to this fucking hole inside of me? You rather I’d drown myself in a fuckin’ bottle? Cry? Put a goddamn gun to my head?” His rapid breaths fill the poignant silence. “What is it you want!”

I ache to crawl to him. To wrap my arms around his legs and reassure Tyke it’s okay.

He’s enough.

“Shit,” I mutter as Digger strokes my hair.

“Somebody has to lead this place, and that honor was given to me,” Tyke states, tone softening. “Of course, I feel responsible for what happened to your sister, but fuck me dead, Kane, I can’t show weakness. I’m not afforded that luxury.”

I put my hand against the floorboards and force myself upright to see Kane better.

He stares at the ground beside their feet, jaw working a knot.

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