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Chapter 13
Tyrant
Idon’t like that Bullet had other clients at the range all morning. He was right that he couldn’t just lock them out or cancel on them without reason. I couldn’t go above and beyond with my demands. He assured me he’d spend all his time with Lark personally. It’s a high honor because he has a few of the brothers who work here with him, but none know their way around a weapon like he does. I would trust them with Lark, but not the way I’d trust Bullet.
For the past hour, I’ve watched him be beyond patient and careful with her. Lark was unsure at first, even with beginner handguns. She was scared, I could see from where I’ve been hanging back in the shadows like a first-rate stalker, but with Bullet’s coaxing and his calm demeanor, she quickly lost her fear and she even started enjoying herself.
The first time she hit the bull’s-eye on the paper target, she let out a cry of delight. Even with hearing protection on, that shout of pure delight and wonder attracted quite a bit of extra male attention.
Vigil and Steel are monitoring the other clients shooting. The explosive part of the range has to be specially booked and it’s expensive, so most people just bring their own weapons and have fun with targets.
A few guys in their early twenties were shooting targets until something else, or rather, someone else, came on theirradar. There’s less shooting now and more checking out Lark than I’d like.
Still, I stick to the shadows back in the office, watching out the window. I never told Bullet what I was doing here, and he never asked. Everyone knows Lark is Raiden’s little sister. My connection to her would never come into question. I want to be here? I’m welcome.
These little fucks? Not so much.
At least, they won’t be if they can’t take their eyes off my woman. I don’t know them, but I’m going to make it my business to know every single detail if they continue to ogle her and nudge each other, talking not so discreetly.
Finally, one of them gets brave. He’s all swaggering, blond, blue-eyed bravado. Probably played football and fucked his way through all the cheerleaders in high school and hasn’t done anything with his life but live those glory days.
He’s got that clean, pretty boy, jock look that I’d like to make not so pretty with my fist.
Still. Control. I will damn well have control. The range isn’t my domain. Bullet will handle this accordingly.
Lark is finished shooting and I can tell they’re going to move on to something else. She removes her hearing protection, as does Bullet beside her. He frowns at the cocky fuckface for encroaching on their space and walking around during shooting. I can’t hear what he says, but the fucker shakes his head. He motions to Lark. I try to read his lips, but I’m pretty much shit at that. I can tell from the way her cheeks go pink and the way she shakes her head, that should be the end of it.
It’s not.
This prick can’t take a hint. He puts on his most charming smile and keeps talking. Keeps trying to ooze charm and let his good looks stand for himself. Lark isn’t impressed. Bullet figures she can handle herself and heads over to replace the gun and choose another. He’s only a few feet away. Lark is in no danger, but she wants to end the conversation. Pretty Boy doesn’t get the hint and reaches out a hand to try and graze her arm. She steps back, face confused and thunderous. She shakes her head and the fucker advances on her.
No goddamn way am I going to stand by and let that shit go.
I charge out of the office, the door banging so hard against the wall as it flies open that it sounds like a gunshot itself.
Pretty Boy’s group of friends has gone back to focusing on shooting. They all have hearing protection on, and they don’t see me coming, but Lark sees me. Her mouth drops open, shocked that I’m here. Bullet turns, takes one look at my face, and tries to step in the way, giving the little prick time to escape. He might have stood a chance, because it takes me a few seconds to brush off my club brother and get past him, but obviously the only thing this guy has going for him are his good looks. He doesn’t have a single working brain cell.
He doesn’t run, let alone even back down. He stares stupidly at me charging up on him, but that expression quickly morphs to one of sheer pain as I grab a handful of that golden hair and yank. He goes down, his legs buckling. He scrabbles at my hand, trying to claw me off. I gaze down at his eyes, popping out of his skull, glazed over with fear, but I feel no satisfaction.
“I’m removing this trash, Bullet. Right fucking now. Get his things, please, and see him out with me.”
Bullet shakes his head at me, but he does as I ask.
I literally drag the fucker through the gravel, over the strip of grass, and over to the locked gate in the fence. I’m not taking him through the office. Not when his feet are flailing all over the place, liable to make a mess.
I vaguely hear Lark scream my name, but I’m too far gone to stop. I wait for Bullet to get the lock open on the chain link gate and resume my dragging.
“What the hell?” Pretty Boy says. “Who are you, man? I didn’t do anything! Let go of me!”
I haul him up by his hair ripping a clump out in the process, the prick clutches at his head and screams like I’ve just beaten him half to death. I wish. But alas, he hasn’t really done anything to deserve having his face smashed in or his fingers broken. I might wish I could sit him down and subject him to a few hours of chains and hammers, but even out of my head at seeing him try to touch Lark, I know that there’s a limit and as prez, I set the boundaries and the laws, but I don’t cross them. Going off unhinged and acting in his own interests is something my father would have done.
“Who am I?” I growl into Pretty Boy’s face when he’s on his feet, blood trickling down his face from his scalp. “That just proves how stupid you are. You’re on Satan’s Angels MC property. That woman you tried to touch against her will? She’s one of ours. We ever see your face around here again, you won’t have much of one left, you get me?”
“I- I- I wasn’t doing anything. Just talking to her. I was just flirting. We were having a good time.”
“You were having a good time. Her body language was telling you to fuck off and you weren’t about to take a hint. Learn to listen.”
I shake the prick hard and release him, letting him stagger away. He goes beyond pale when he notices the blood on his fingertips. He points a finger at me even as Bullet brings out his gun, safely stored in its case. No doubt he removed all the bullets in case the stupid fucker got any ideas. “You’re a psycho, you know that? You could have just asked me to leave.”
