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“This was me asking you nicely.” I make the scoot motion with my fingers, heavy steel rings flashing in the sun. “Leave before I fill you in on what the not so nice version looks like.”
Bullet stands at my shoulder as we watch Pretty Boy scramble for his truck. It’s a big, shiny, jacked up vehicle, new within the last few years. Probably cost more than many houses in Hart. Spoiled. Entitled. He nearly loses control and hits a parked car as he careens out of the parking lot.
It’s not until he’s long gone that Bullet clamps a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“I agree that kid was a stupid little shit, but dragging him out like that? I’m going to get angry calls.”
“I’ll handle it,” I bark, still feeling half rabid. Part of me wants to chase that truck down, jump on the back, climb up, plunge a knife into the roof to can opener it like they do in movies, haul the kid out, and finish that beating.
“Prez? You’re practically frothing at the mouth.”
To prove it, I literally snap my teeth at the group of Pretty Boy’s friends hustling out of the range. They aren’t going to testtheir luck by sticking around. They want out of there and fast, with their hair intact.
Bullet is looking at me strange, so I give him a half truth. He saw me perilously close to losing my shit, and he’s right. It was basically over nothing. I have more control than this. In fact, I have impeccable control. I don’t allow anyone to rile me. I’ve actually infuriated most people by being so stoic.
“She’s Raiden’s kid sister. I know she’s not a kid anymore, but for as long as she’s in Hart, she’s under my protection. Would you let some shit like that touch your daughter? Your woman?”
Bullet just shakes his head again. He’s not much for words. He also doesn’t have a woman or a daughter.
He wears a black watch on his wrist, an ugly plastic thing that looks like it came out of a twenty-five cents machine. We’ve all tried to get him something new, but he loves it and now he waves it at me.
“Isn’t there a meeting you’re supposed to be at?”
“Not for another twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes was probably up twenty minutes ago, but I kept pushing the time back, wanting to watch Lark for just a few minutes longer. She was mesmerizing when she was having fun. My own personal siren. I was lost to her.
“Tyrant!” My club name on her lips says far more about how angry she is than the sound of her voice alone.
Seeing her stalking towards me, full of barely contained fury, reminds me why I’ve been consumed with desire for her foryears. Lusting isn’t the right word. Not by half. It’s not just her body that I want. It’s that spirit.
Once, she lit up when I entered the room. Now, I bring out all the extreme emotions for her. There’s nothing level about how she looks me up and down out here in the parking lot.
Bullet clears his throat. “Got a few people still left in there to supervise until we resume our lessons.” He leaves me to deal with the mess I’ve made.
She looks way up at me, face tight with anger. “That was uncalled for, you know that already.”
“I—”
“Hold on. No.” She silences me quickly. “How could you do that? Why not just stick a ‘Property of Tyrant’ sign on my forehead?”
“Can I?” I drop my face closer so I can drink in the lovely scent of her body mixed with smoke and powder from the range.
She steps back quickly, her mouth a flat, unimpressed line. She knows that I was smelling her, and she can’t hide the way her own breathing just kicked up a notch. “What is wrong with you?”
“The list would probably be shorter—”
“You embarrassed me! I’m able to take care of myself, at least as far as light flirting from annoying assholes go. I’m so thankful for what you did as a club with our yard and for my mom, but this? Arranging with my brother to drop me off here and for goodness knows what other training? No. I’m not someone you boss around or make arrangements for. You haveto talk to me first. And losing your shit over some douchebag? You need to dial it in. Immediately.”
It’s so hot how she’s no longer afraid to tell me how it is and how it’s going to be. Very few people might get to do that, but I’m so far gone for her that I’m not going to put up a fight.
She switches from anger to ice in an instant, her eyes clouding over. “There’s something else… something—what you just did—it made me think of Jordan Thatche.”
I didn’t expect to have this out now and not in a public place. I get my guard up fast.
“He disappeared,” she continues. “I heard about it, but it had been two years. I thought that you couldn’t possibly have been involved. Were you? Did you do something to him?”
A wicked, dark sensation writhes inside of me. I’m back in her space, fast. I don’t touch her, but the rapid movement shocks her. I whisper near her ear in a low, half-crazed growl. “No one touches you. I cut off his hands for trapping you and thinking he could touch you. Snapped his fingers off one by one.”
