Tyrant (Kings of Carnage MC: Alabama #1)

Chapter 11

Tyrant

A fter I’ve gotten my shit inside the club, have taken a shower, and had a nap, I sit at the bar, glaring at the prospect behind it. He had the goddamn nerve to ask me how my Vegas trip went. I turn to Rogue, all prickly in my irritation. “I swear, have we not taught these assholes anything around here? Like how to keep their mouths shut on shit that isn’t their business?”

Rogue’s brows jump, he sits back, amusement dancing in his gaze. “I think Asphalt was asking to make conversation with your grumpy ass. You can relax, brother.”

I huff out a sigh. I haven’t told him what happened yet either. No one knows, only Havoc. He’s about to call church and when he does, I’ll share.

“Hey, V.P. good to have you back,” Zero’s pale ass greets, as he and Country head out front. I nod, keeping my rudeness to myself. The kid is literally the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. I’d be a real sore jackass to be a dick to him. With the other prospects it doesn’t bother me, but Zero has gone through enough shit in his life not to be extra shitted on by me, so I don’t do it.

“Let’s smoke a J,” Rooster yells across the main room to the others and my serious stare is on him next. He’s always loud as fuck, bad enough he has an obnoxious, long blue mohawk calling attention to him. Then he’s gotta yell shit like that all the time. He needs to spend his time learning to tone it the fuck down. We got too much illegal shit going on in our backyard to have him bringing the cops on site.

“Hey, dick for brains, calm down,” Creed says as he strolls towards the bar, bumping my fist in greeting. He can read me without me saying a word, probably knew with one glance I was ready to toss a chair at Rooster.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I grumble. “Too motherfucking fucked in the head over some shit. I’ll end up punching one of ‘em.”

Rogue and Creed’s brows both raise, waiting for me to elaborate, but I don’t. Asphalt’s smart enough to pretend he doesn’t hear shit, just continues to tidy up the bar and do inventory on club supplies for alcohol and food for the week. Zero takes care of ordering medical and cleaning supplies since he’s the one who usually gets stuck with patching us up if shit goes down. The others typically find something to keep busy with or else they’ll get stuck on random details we give them. They hate my ass for always making them help the bitches clean up around here, but in my mind, I don’t see why the club sluts should get stuck with cleaning up after our asses. They’re here to fuck, not be Molly Maid. The prospects don’t suck our dicks, so those assholes can swing a mop time and again, won’t be no skin off my back, and I know the Prez feels the same way.

A hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing. “It’s all good, Tyrant,” Havoc says. “Church, brothers. We have some shit to discuss.” He gestures to the room we have reserved for fully patched members only.

We pass Henley on our way. He’s carrying his guitar, shirtless like usual. The fucker used to be an athlete in his prime until he ripped something in his shoulder swimming and hasn’t been the same since. Now he just smokes weed for the pain and plays his guitar all the time. Poor fucker has some ugly-looking scars on his back from the multiple surgeries he had to have. Even with the doctors cutting into him, it wasn’t enough to get him back in the water. Still too slow , he claims and hasn’t spoken a word about it since. He’s a damn good cook, I’ll give that to him. He says it’s ‘cause his madre taught him so he wouldn’t go hungry when he was off to college, living the playboy life. I say it’s ‘cause he was a spoiled little shit, but now he’s been left with big boy problems to sort out.

We take our respective chairs around the table once the door’s shut and all the noises from the common area are blocked out. Havoc sits at the head of the table, me to the right. He sighs, and begins with, “Fuck this week.”

We all nod, no doubt dealing with our individual shit. “Seriously, fuck it all to hell,” I mutter.

“Yep, fuck it.” Rogue nods.

“Agreed. Fuck this week and the one before,” Creed grumbles. He sits back in his chair and I meet his stare, curious if I missed something important that he needed my help with while I was in Vegas. I was gone all damn week with how long the ride took.

He offers a subtle shake of his head, and my shoulders relax, knowing he’s straight. I hate ever feeling like my brothers need me for something and I’m not there. I’ve pledged my life to this club, to them, from the start, and I damn well mean it.

“You wanna discuss your issue?” Havoc lays it on me and I figure it’s best to get it out now, rather than fester on it for a while and be a total sour puss toward everyone because my panties are wrinkled over decisions I was stupid enough to make.

I give him a nod, grateful he always has my back. This is no different, I know I can count on him. “I fucked up,” I mutter, staring at the chipped wood on the table under my inked arms. “Went to Vegas, met a bitch, fucked her, and she left.”

“Don’t see a problem there, brother.” Rogue grins and I flip him off.

“Right?” Creed agrees, so I give him the bird too.

These guys are more than my club brothers, they’re my best friends, and they know me. They’re used to me being a partial dick ninety percent of the time. I figure with how big my cock is and how good-looking chicks say I am, I couldn’t also get a winning personality. It would’ve been unfair to all other men. I had to have a flaw.

“There’s more,” Havoc mentions, egging me on to continue.

“I may’ve gotten wasted and married her.”

The room goes silent, and by silent, I mean I could hear a pin drop if my hearing was that good. After a few moments, I finally glance up to find them staring at me. Havoc smirks knowingly. Rogue’s mouth is parted in shock. Creed just shakes his head and rolls his eyes at me.

“Finally found a way to shut you bitches up,” I comment, and that gets them going.

“Fuck you!” Creed chuckles.

“Yeah, fuck right off, dumbass,” Rogue snickers.

I glance at Havoc, finding his smirk has bloomed into a grin, and I can’t help but to finally laugh at the situation. It’s so fucked up. “You all suck. You’re supposed to give me an idea on how to handle this.”

“We killing her?” Creed is instantly all ears.

“Hell no,” I shoot him a look that says I will toss his next bitch in the river if he goes after my wife.

Fucking shit. I’m already thinking of her as mine. And my wife, no less. Just fucking great.

“You moving her in? When do we get to meet her?” Rogue peppers me with questions.

“Y’all some nosy fuckers.”

“At least we didn’t get drunk and marry a chick we don’t know,” Havoc cuts in and I snort. “Were you able to find out anything else since you left?”

I shake my head. “Not really. I’ve been beating myself up over it so much I know I’m missing something.”

“Put the prospects on her,” Havoc suggests, and I immediately start nodding. That idea makes a lot of sense.

“You gonna keep her?” Rogue questions, and I find myself shrugging my shoulders.

Am I going to? Lord knows I want to, but I don’t know if it’s the best thing for me if I’m already hung up on her this much. “Maybe,” I finally admit after a beat. “She’s different.”

“They always are,” Creed mutters.

“No, as in, I think she’s running from someone. She was hitchhiking when I found her.”

“Christ,” Havoc says under his breath, staring at me like I’m the crazy one at the table. “You should get it annulled and call it a day.”

Creed and Rogue nod their agreement, and I’m pretty much on board with the suggestion. “I know, but first, I need to see how she is after the fact we’re married and she’s forced to meet me face to face. I want to know if the strange feeling I felt before is there again. If it is, I may try to hold on to her. I never considered marriage much, and now that it’s happened it doesn’t freak me out anymore. It’s just like yesterday, only today I have a marriage license claiming I’m tied to someone else, no drastic changes. It’s not exactly a bad thing either, since she seems like she’s a good girl, but something is definitely eating away at her inside. She had nightmares each night when we were together and I had to wake her up. She told me she’s seen monsters and I’m not the one she’s scared of.”

Creed whistles under his breath.

I’m a pretty intimidating motherfucker, or so I’ve been told, so for her to not be afraid, speaks volumes. My brothers are aware as they’ve dealt with the frightened looks or snide comments at times as well. There’s a reason we all became outlaw bikers; we don’t fit the same mold as the rest of society. When Havoc came to us with the idea of starting our own chapter in Alabama off of Chaos’ in Georgia, it was a no-brainer for me. I was all in.

We’ve got our prospects that are damn near close to getting patched in and now I’m talking about possibly introducing a woman into the mix who isn’t a club slut. Times are obviously beginning to change for us. I think the real question we should be considering is if we’re ready for those changes or not.

“Any objections if I do decide to keep her? She may want to leave, and there’s a chance I won’t allow it to happen until she’s on board with what I want.”

“Kidnapping?” Havoc asks.

“Not actually. I’d just make it difficult for her to leave until she’s comfortable with club life.”

“I’m sure that’ll go over real well,” Rogue mutters sarcastically, making Creed grin. They’re all finding this way too amusing.

“You act like she’s not going to fight you on this.”

I shrug, meeting Prez’s stare. “When have I ever backed down from a fight before?” At my reply, he shakes his head with a quiet chuckle. He doesn’t think I’ll keep her here, but I will if I want to. And the more they all think I can’t do it, the more it makes me want to. Maybe a few more fucks with her will get her out of my system for good and she can go on her way. We’ll see. This entire situation is confusing.

“Anybody else got shit to talk about? No women chained in our basement you all are trying to marry?” Havoc tosses out and I roll my eyes. One day it’ll be him getting hit upside the head by a female, just wait. I won’t be alone on this and it’s always the stubborn ones that fall the hardest from what I hear. “No one? Alright, business as usual. Let’s get the hell out of here and drink a beer.”

We head to the bar, finding all the prospects standing around like a group of lazy assholes, trying to catch the club slut’s attention. The only one getting eyelashes flickering and invites already is Country. I overheard Twilah Jane and Kitty talking about him having a massive dick and how he wouldn’t fuck them yet, so it was making it more of a challenge for them. It’s another reason why I suppose they haven’t held any of my interest. Knowing they’re fucking everyone else didn’t bother me in the beginning, but now it makes me look at them differently. Not in a bad way or anything, they love what they do and I respect the hell out of that, but it’s not something I’m attracted to. The thought of having a woman who only wants to fuck me and no others turn her head? Yeah, that’s the shit getting me hard right now and something tells me none of these guys would sway Blair.

I need to get her back in my bed.

“Yo, prospect,” I order and end up garnering all of their attention. “I’m going to send you a picture of a chick to look for. You need to go to the closest bus stops within fifty miles to the north of us. It can be northeast, northwest, or just fuckin’ north. I have some specific stations and times I’ll send you. There are five of you, so work it out. Over the next two days, I want you to spend all day at one bus stop, then switch to another nearby the second day.”

“What if we find her?” Country quietly asks. Probably wants to know if he should bring his truck to scoop her gorgeous ass up.

“You try to snap a picture of her without her knowing and you send it to me. Then you stay low but follow her. Make sure nothing bad happens to her and wait to hear for my next directions. Got it?” I ask, glancing at all of them. Havoc stands beside me, hands crossed as he stares them down with me. They’re probably silently shitting themselves to have both of our full attention on them all at once.

They nod. Zero asks, “When do we leave?”

“Tonight. You’ll need to be at your first stop at two a.m., and don’t let me find out you fuckers fell asleep during the times I give you, either. Go take a nap or some shit, so you’re ready.”

“Yes, V.P.,” is echoed from each of them as they head for the back room. They dip their heads at each of us in respect on their way. We’ve got a bigger room in the back that we were going to use for a rec room before we went the bar route and had everything up front. Anyway, we let those fuckers sleep back there on some cots. They don’t get rooms like we do; you have to earn them along with our fucking patch. Being a King doesn’t come easy and it damn sure isn’t free, but when you’re in, you are in for the rest of your life with brothers at your back. Not to mention there’s also the protection that comes from it because nobody fucks with a King. The Kings of Carnage brothers do not play and we will run you down in a heartbeat if you come for one of our own.

“She’ll be home in no time,” Creed mentions, as we all take our respective spots at the bar.

I sure as fuck hope so.