Page 5 of Crow

I brace myself, leaning up against the wall, assuming the same bored, casual, but also threatening stance. My arms remain crossed over my chest like a shield. I might be still to the point of invisible, but my insides are squirming and wild.

Just let me take over. I might be annoying, and you might hate me always up in your head, but if you let me handle this, I can charm her. Women love me. Just one more reason I’m the better personality.

Abruptly, Tarynn changes directions.

I breathe a sigh of relief that feels half like acid poured over my insides. I had no idea what I’d say to her, but now that I’ve lost my chance, I’m disappointed.

How quaint. You okay there, sweetheart?

Some days, I wish I could bash my own skull into the wall. It would be worth it, just to get Raven to shut the fuck up.

So dramatic. She’s just dropping off her drinks, so the others don’t get pissed that she’s chatting you up while they’re waiting there, parched as fuck.

For once, Raven is right. Tarynn quickly empties her tray, smiling and nodding at some of my club brothers and the club whores hanging all over them on the far side of the bar. A few of them are here with their old ladies. They’re friendlier to Tarynn, already secure in their position. Her smiles aren’t quite so forced with them. She accepts their tips, tucking them into the small black apron she wears tied at her hips.

When she turns, her green eyes pin me like a spotlight, highlighting my entire body for the whole bar to see. I know that’s absurd. No one’s looking at me, but perspiration breaks out at my temples and the back of my neck itches.

She starts towards me, tray dangling at her side.

Weeks, I’ve been coming here, and she hasn’t noticed me once. Hasn’t come over to take my drink order. Hasn’t spared me more than a passing glance. Why is she still walking this way?

Probably because you’re staring at her and it’s like a come hither instruction, dumbass. You’re aware that she’s a waitress and you’re standing over here lookingthirsty. You want to break that sweet, innocent little body in. She’s a good girl. Her minister daddy probably has never let her date. She’s done all the churchy stuff, the do-gooder shit. I bet she’s never even taken a cock.

I’d be willing to punch myself in the face right now, if it wouldn’t look so strange.

I suck in a breath as she nears, and it’s full of her. No strong perfume. Nothing discernable except clean laundry and fresh air. My lungs clench, making it difficult to breathe as her soft pink lips slowly draw into a smile that mesmerizes me.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“I… don’t drink.” Her smile falters at my gruff tone. My gut twists with violent self-recrimination. I don’t even need Raven to fill me in on what an asshole I am. “When I’m riding.” There was such a long, awkward pause between words that I’m surprised she links them together.

“Right, since you’re riding. That’s smart.” She tucks a strand of her long, red hair behind her ear. It’s such an intriguing color. Natural and gorgeous, like the rest of her. I don’t think she’s even wearing makeup.

“Can I get you something else?” she soldiers on despite the long silence.

In all the times I’ve come here, no one has ever approached me. I suppose I’m what anyone with good sense would consider frightening. My whole demeanor puts people off. It’s just easier that way. Easier to be silent and scary. It’s less taxing than trying to put on a show of being normal.

“Grilled cheese.”

She frowns. “We um… I don’t think we… don’t have that at night. Just bar food. Fries, wings, pizza.”

I can’t stop my wince, and seeing that, she makes an effort to be kind. It’s far more than most people have ever done. You prove you’re a freak once, and the world is ever unmerciful.

“Tell you what, I’ll go ask in the kitchen. It’s not like we don’t have the stuff. We serve it during the day. It’s probably not a big deal.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s too much trouble.”

Her bright smile is back. It hits me straight in the dick. “It’s no trouble at all.”

I stare at her until she grasps her tray and flits off, walking light and graceful in those cowboy boots. As soon as she’s gone, I close my eyes and use the wall for an extra brace of support. I’m ready for a full scale attack in my head, but nothing happens. Raven is oddly silent. It’s not because he’s a nice person. He’s just saving this up for later.

It’s not just because I have my bike here that I’m not drinking. I just don’t. Ever. When my control slips, Raven can push me aside and take over. I’m the dominant for a reason.Raven can’t be trusted. I let him out sometimes, for a short time, when it’s safe and there’s no one else around. If I didn’t give over sometimes, he’d literally push me to insanity.

Speaking of insanity, the club’s twins, Decay and Grave, were standing close enough to me to witness the whole cringeworthy exchange. They look at me now like Raven is pushing his way out of my body in a very physical sense, causing me to grow extra limbs and a head before that second persona splits apart in a scene from any alien movie.

That would be fun. Can we try it sometime?

Grave opens his mouth to use me as a punching bag, but I stare him down, clearly projecting my intention to grab a pool cue, break it in half, and impale him and his brother, one on each end, stick them to a wall, and use their balls for dart practice. They might be scary enough in their own right—they shine in moments of real violence, but they turn their attention gladly back to the club whores swarming around them.

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