Tyrant (Kings of Carnage MC: Alabama #1)

Chapter 4

Tyrant

P ulling off to the side of the road, I steer the bike into the gas station and park at the closest pump. I let my feet settle on the ground for a few beats while I stretch my arms and twist my ankles from side to side. My body is stiff from holding the same position for the entirety of the trip so far. I’m used to riding my other bike for long distances, not my pretty new chopper. I’m starting to regret being stubborn and not catching a flight into Vegas. The map app with the driving directions says it’s going to take us twenty-six hours to get there.

Blair grips me tightly as she climbs off, feeling wobbly herself, and I swing my leg over. “Sorry if I was squeezing you too hard.”

She was lost in her thoughts, if I had to guess. Any time I caught a glance of her in my mirrors, she seemed zoned out and caught up in her own head about who knows what. I’m guessing shit’s pretty serious for her, though, if she was on the side of the road hitchhiking and is willing to go to Vegas with a stranger on a whim. That shit will get you killed in a heartbeat if you pick the wrong vehicle. Lucky for her, I’m not into killing or raping women, so she’s safe. I may want to run my hands all over her gorgeous body, but I’m not the type to force them on someone. Hell, I’ve never had to.

“I need to fill up, but I’m going to go inside first.” I tip my head in the direction of the building. The parking lot is bustling, the stop seems popular on this route. She nods, standing beside the bike. She’s gotta have to pee by now, I sure as fuck do. I could use another snack or a sandwich right about now as well. “You coming in?” I ask when she still doesn’t budge.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles quietly, giving the shop her back and turning towards the road. I can’t help but wonder if she’s running from someone. Maybe she’s a thief or killed her ol’ man and is hiding out before the cops lock her up.

Why does my mind do that? Going straight for the worst-case scenario bullshit? Even silently calling myself out on my thoughts, my gut still screams something is up. I run my gaze over her pert little ass and mention, “I got a ball cap in my saddlebag if you want to keep the sun out of your eyes. Soon enough, it’ll be dark.” I give her the easy out, so she doesn’t have to tell me anything she’s not wanting to.

She spins back around, her face lighting up. “Oh yeah? Thanks.”

I gesture to the bag closest to me. “It’s on this side. Help yourself. It may smell like the road and leather, but it’ll do the job.” It’ll hide her well enough; besides, I doubt any guys around here will have the balls to stare her down if she’s walking with me. I don’t exactly draw anyone’s stare; if anything, they’re trying not to look at me and garner my wrath.

She drops down to her haunches, and quickly digs through the thick leather pouch until she finds the ball cap. She holds up a pair of cheap sunglasses. “Mind if I use these as well?”

“Nah, take ‘em. They’ll have some in your size inside if you want to grab a pair.”

She shakes her head and slides the glasses on, shielding her eyes from mine. With the ball cap, you’d never know it was her. She flashes a wide smile, and I can read the gratitude in her expression. I’m good at deciphering silent cues, and plenty of bikers get that way after being in the life for so long. You never know when it could keep you out of a heap of shit or alive. “These are good, thanks.”

She trails behind me into the large travel station and we part ways once we each get to our respective bathroom doors. I tip my head and duck inside. Take care of business, wash my hands, then find her waiting right outside the door for me. “I’m starving, want to grab a sandwich?” There’s the typical sub shop connected to the gas station, and right now, my stomach growls eagerly with the thought of ham, turkey, bacon, and cheese loaded up with my favorite toppings. Maybe a splash of ranch. Pickles, for sure. And chips, I’m craving chips.

“Oh, sure,” she agrees easily. Her hands are shoved into her back pockets, pushing her tits out. I don’t think she even realizes she’s doing it, and fuck, do I want to take a better look at her chest. I don’t, of course, but it’s a struggle to peel my stare away and concentrate on food instead.

We walk over to the chipped hunter green counter, greeted by a tired-looking older lady wearing a hairnet and plastic gloves, with her name tag reading ‘Barb.’ The faded green uniform polo isn’t doing her any favors either; the woman looks washed out. “What can I get you, honey?” she asks, her voice rough from smoking too many cigarettes in her lifetime. I order a ridiculous amount of food for one person, but with my size, I tend to eat more than the average dude. When Barb glances at Blair, the little woman just shakes her head, not planning on eating a thing.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” She offers a polite smile and I can’t help but stare at her again for a beat. She was hitchhiking. Tossed one of her bags in the bushes, along with a jug of water. She didn’t want to be seen coming inside, and now claiming she’s not hungry after being on the back of my bike for four hours.

Who knows how long she was left on the side of the road or walking before I showed up. I call bullshit. Hell, I’d think she was homeless if she didn’t look so put together. She didn’t seem dirty to me like she’d been living out in the elements, especially because I’m not one to shy away from pitching my blanket anywhere and taking a nap should the feeling arise. I rarely spend money on hotel rooms when we head out on a run; I’d rather dream under the stars.

“You know what, Barb? Hook me up with a bag of those chips over there, a white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie, a cup of that potato soup, and a kid’s sub meal. How about you make it the meatball one with some mozzarella cheese, top with parmesan, and toss in a bottled drink for the road.”

The lady pecks at her screen, putting in my ridiculous order while Blair moves to sit at the furthest table, her back to the door so no one can see her face. Barb dishes up my food, setting it all on two trays and passing me a bag as well, probably thinking I’ll need it to take some food to go. Little does she know—all this food isn’t for me. The extra stuff I ordered is for my sexy stowaway back there, pretending like she has no needs in life. I’m not buying it, and I refuse to let her be any more uncomfortable than I’m sure she already was riding behind me for hours. It’s one thing if you’re a seasoned rider, but if you’re not used to it? You’re going to be hurting.

“Thank you,” I tell the weathered woman and pop some extra cash in the tip jar. Hopefully she gets to retire one day and spend her time gardening rather than dealing with punk ass travelers, hounding her for sandwiches. I grab a bottled water from the cooler and fill up a lemonade in the fountain cup.

“Here you go, Sugar.” I place the second tray down in front of Blair after I’ve collected the food. “Eat up, we don’t have anywhere to stow any extra food we take to go with us.” I set the drinks in the middle so she can pick whichever one she wants; I’ll drink either one.

Her soulful brown eyes widen as her stare flicks between me and the tray in front of her. “B-but I said I wasn’t hungry.” She’s already shaking her head trying to push the tray away, but my hand rests on the edge, stopping her from moving it. She continues, “I can’t eat this. I don’t have extra cash to pay you back for any of it.”

“Didn’t ask you to pay me anything. I told you I had an extra concert ticket, and you hopped on the back of the bike with me. You’ve been a damn good passenger, the least I can do is buy you a kid’s meal,” I grumble, wanting to witness her eat something as I get situated with my meal and then take a giant bite of my sandwich. If I’m chewing, we can’t argue about it anymore, and I win this disagreement. Childish? Don’t fuckin’ care.

She takes the hint after a beat of me chewing the mouth full of food and eagerly unwraps the sandwich. I act like I’m not paying attention, but I notice the way her hand shakes. I wish she’d tell me how long she’s been without food. I hate thinking of such a stunning woman with her sweet demeanor being at the hands of nature or something much worse, as well as going hungry. I gesture to the drinks, wordlessly telling her to choose, and she picks the bottled water so I take the lemonade. Pop the top off and gulp down half the beverage in a few swallows. She finishes the mini meatball sub quickly even though her bites seemed small, in my opinion. Next, I push the cup of potato soup in her direction, handing her the spoon that ended up on my tray for some reason. Not gonna lie, it smells hella good, and if she doesn’t want it, I’ll probably finish it off as well.

“More?” Her mouth drops open, trying to come up with another excuse. I probably shouldn’t enjoy watching her eat as much as I do, but I can’t help it. Everything about her is so fucking cute and something in my chest warms at the thought of me being the one providing the food for her. The chick is bringing out my basic nature of wanting to hunt and clean her an entire fucking deer to show her I could provide for her. Care for her. Hell, at this rate, I’ll take her down south and wrestle a fucking gator if it’ll keep her gazing at me like I hung the motherfuckin’ moon.

I don’t admit any of that aloud, though, but rather play it off with a shrug. “Mm. It’ll go in the trash if you can’t eat it. We can fit the chips and cookie on the bike if you want those for later?”

She nods, her expression telling me she’s truly thankful. That I just became some sort of hero in her eyes, but she couldn’t be more far from the truth. I’m not a good man, but I’m damn sure not the worst out there either.

We stop two hours down the road for a quick bathroom break and then finally for the night after riding eight hours. Blair will be sore, no doubt, and we still have an additional two days of riding before we arrive. We take turns in the restroom at a hole-in-the-wall gas station, and I use my cell to search for the nearest hotel. Nothing comes up within two hours of our route, and I’m not trying to ride ten hours, especially with Blair. Eight each day is pushing it, especially at my age; I want to enjoy the trip, not feel like I’m exhausted. “Fuck,” I mutter, as we stand next to my motorcycle.

“Bad news?”

I offer her my cell, showing her the map on my phone with the little dots lit up along the road. “Closest hotel is an additional two hours.”

She yawns and shakes her head. “Is there a park or something nearby, so we don’t have to go that far? I’m tired, so I’m betting you are too.”

I nod. It was a long day in a position I’m not used to sitting in for that amount of time. My handlebars on my hog are much lower, the slant of the seat different, the weight heavier…I could go on and on comparing the two motorcycles. “You want to nap at a park? We’ll be useless trying to ride another eight on a few hours of sleep.”Blair shrugs, glancing around. I know she’s thinking, so I don’t interrupt her, patiently waiting for her to gather her thoughts. Eventually, she suggests, “What about an empty field? If it has grass, it could be not so bad.”

My gaze beats into her, wishing she’d just admit she doesn’t want me to get us a hotel room because she’s afraid she’ll have to give me some money for the night. “You’d sleep outside? You’re not worried about bugs or anything?” Majority of the chicks I’ve met haven’t been keen on the idea of being outdoors for long. They always want a ride on the back of my bike, which doesn’t ever happen, but not to camp or let me pull over and fuck them someplace random.

Like a field.

Or a park.

I bet Blair would.

I check out the map on my phone again and find a spot nearby that may work. We load up again and then head down a farm road. It’s close enough we can stop by the gas station in the morning before we head back on the trip and suck down some shitty coffee. Because you know this far out in bum-fuck-Egypt, the java is going to be burnt and suck.

“I only have my bedroll,” I share once we’ve gotten to our makeshift campsite. It won’t be much, but it’ll keep us off the ground, at least if I lay the bedding out and don’t fold it over to cover myself up with. I unstrap the roll, then grab my portable phone charger and the bottled waters from my saddlebag. My bike is parked behind some bushes and with the slope of the field, no one should see us if they’re not specifically looking. I’ve become fairly decent at discovering good spots to sleep in for free. I make sure to leave each one as I’ve found them, taking my trash and belongings with me. I refuse to be the asshole who uses something and destroys it.

Blair unstraps her bag from the back of the sissy bar I have for the bitch seat. The person I bought the bike off of had his ol’ lady riding with him all the time. I guess it was fate stepping in that I hadn’t removed it all yet. She grabs her bag of chips and her cookie, then we walk down the slope a short way. I set everything down, then spread my bedroll. “You gonna be alright with us sleeping this close?”

She quietly laughs, and I find myself enjoying the sound a little too much. It has to be because I haven’t fucked in a while. The club sluts haven’t been doing it for me lately, so I’ve kept my dick in my pants, waiting until some better snatch came around. “I literally rode the last eight hours holding on to your body.”

I nod, releasing the heavy breath I didn’t realize I’ve been holding. I was literally waiting on bated breath for her to tell me she didn’t want to be next to me and the thought has my head spinning. “You can hold on to me anytime you want, Sugar,” I respond with a wink, hoping I don’t come off as some sort of fucking creeper right before going to bed.

Since when do I doubt myself? I’m charming when I try and chicks dig me, or so I’ve been told. Mostly I don’t talk to them, then they hop on my dick and we’re both happy.

I swear her cheeks turn red, darkening under the bright moonlight. It’s damn near a full moon, and it has everything lit up in a magical sort of glow. I lay down, scooting to the edge since my bulky ass fills up so much space without me even trying. Bad enough, I have to sit with my legs spread all the damn time because my cock and balls are big and heavy. It’s not because I haven’t come in a while either; they’re forever like that as if they’re waiting for the perfect pussy to fill over and over.

I shouldn’t be thinking of this shit when Blair’s body is about to be lying against mine and not in the manner I’ve been dreaming of nearly all day. “I have a blanket we can use. It’s more of a throw, really, but it may help. It’s not very clean, sorry about that.” She reminds me of a church mouse, sweet and quiet and either too shy or embarrassed to do anything to put me out. If she only had a clue of the type of men I’m used to being around maybe she’d let her guard down a bit.

“All good, babe. Bring your perky ass over here and get comfortable.”

Her mouth pops open in surprise, but all I can do is chuckle in response. My chest shakes as I laugh to myself in amusement; it must break the tension up from my words as she carefully lays down at my side. “You good? I brought one of those waters for you.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

I’m silent as I process her words. I listen for her breathing after a few moments to see if she’s fallen asleep or if she’s too anxious. She may’ve claimed to be okay with her mentioning we rode together all day, but it doesn’t mean shit when lying next to a man you don’t know. I’m so much larger than her, I could take every bit of her I wanted, and she’d never be able to stop me. How she’ll sleep with the worry is beyond me, even though I know inside I’d never hurt her like that. Maybe I’d hold her down and stuff her with my cock if she begged for it, but I’d never just spread her sweet thighs and make my way inside her body without it being invited.

I try not to look at her but break after so long of holding myself as still as possible. “How you gonna sleep next to someone like me? Aren’t you worried about what I’ll do?” I haven’t been able to get the thought from my mind, and it’s driven me crazy to the point of opening my big fucking mouth when I notice her staring up at the stars.

“You’re not the one I’m scared of. I’ve known real monsters in my lifetime, and you’re not one of them.” She whispers, and her confession nearly knocks my head back in surprise.

I bite into my cheek, wondering who in the fuck would ever hurt this woman. Probably some drunk piece of shit living in the run-down trailer park on the edge of town. It’d explain why she was walking down the road, looking for a ride. Releasing a sigh, I murmur, “No monsters will get to you here. I swear it. You can sleep knowing I’ve got your back tonight.” I don’t know why in the hell I say it, but something in my chest compels me to be her champion tonight.

Funny thought, as I’m usually the one people run from.