Tyrant (Kings of Carnage MC: Alabama #1)

Chapter 12

Tyrant

B oy, oh boy, she’s angry. A regular little hellcat, practically hissing and clawing at the poor prospects. As soon as Country told me he had her in his sights, I’d asked for a picture. He sent it and the image stole my breath. There she was, trying to hide under my hat with my sunglasses on. I’d recognize her anywhere after spending as much time with her as I had. She’d tucked her hair up, and it looked a bit ridiculous, but I knew she was doing it for a specific reason. I wish she’d shared what the reason was exactly, but she hadn’t. I’d told him to follow her in his truck, keeping a decent distance away until back up arrived. Then I’d immediately texted the prospects and told them to get their punk asses to Country’s location and help him bring my wife to the club.

I’d received several responses, all with ‘ your wife?’ but I didn’t say shit in return. I didn’t call her my woman because they wouldn’t have realized the repercussions had they fucked up their orders somehow. By letting them know she’s my wife, I knew they’d get her here at all costs, and it sounds like they have.

“Let me go, right now!” she yells, and I watch as her hands fly at Asphalt. She attempts to shove at him, but she’s so damn short compared to us, considering we’re all tall as fuck, so it’s pretty damn amusing.

“Hey, Sugar,” I greet, striding towards her.

At my voice, she stops her fighting, turning her attention on me. She offers a glare, while I smirk, appraising her from head to toe. “Oh no,” she shakes her head, making my lips twitch into a grin. She definitely feels the same pull I do, and she no doubt is well aware it’s dangerous. We barely know each other, but yet it doesn’t feel that way from spending several days together, alone, and we both already know how electric we can be together.

Her pussy is pure heaven. Her mouth is the sweetest sip I’ve ever had. And her poor, tormented heart makes something flair up inside me, wanting to protect her.

“We need to have a conversation.”

“So you have me kidnapped? Are you insane?”

“I tried to warn you that I’m not a good guy when we met, remember? You didn’t believe me.”

“Unbelievable,” she sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “What is it with me and controlling sociopaths?”

“Excuse me?” I grumble, not keen on her referring to others and lumping me in. There’s no way I’m like any other man she’s had in the past.

“My husband, he’s crazy too. Why do you think I was hitchhiking the day you found me on the side of the highway. I was trying to get out of town.”

“I’m your husband,” I grind out, suddenly feeling insanely possessive over her.

She nods. “Yeah, well, I’m already married. Surprise. See why I left without saying good morning the other day? It would’ve been complicated.”

Snatching her hand, I tug her along behind me, “Come on. This conversation needs to be between you and me, not a club full of ears.”

“You weren’t wearing a vest when I met you,” she mentions.

“I took it off to be respectful. We were riding in some others’ territory, and if I didn’t let them know ahead of time, a few would’ve taken offense. I wasn’t trying to bring unnecessary heat down on my club and my brothers. Would’ve gotten bloody, and I just wanted to go to a concert,” I mutter. She doesn’t gasp in outrage, so I take it as a good sign.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can be alone.” I lead her through the clubhouse until we get to my personal room. It’s not much, just a regular bedroom, bathroom, and a little black wood desk I built a while back, clad with a personal coffee maker and mini fridge. I don’t generally eat and drink in here but I like having the option if I want to. I shut my door, locking it behind us. “Want something to drink? I have sweet tea and water or I can make some coffee if you’d like.”

She glances around, taking in the space. It’s clean. I’m not a neat freak, but I’m not a slob either. “I’ll take some sweet tea, please. Thank you.”

I grab one of the bottles out of the fridge, twist the top open for her, and hand it over. I bet she hasn’t eaten anything today either. Knowing her, she’s only had water all day. “You. Uh, doing alright? The trip wasn’t too rough?” I find myself asking instead of demanding the heavy answers right away.

“It was fine. I saw my face on the television in the bus station, though, so that part sucked.”

“I knew you were running from something.”

She nods, gesturing to the bed, and I dip my chin. She sits with my permission and I appreciate her taking the time to ask before taking over my shit. I wouldn’t have minded either way, but still, it’s the respect that plays a big hand on how I look at people. “I have skeletons in my closet.”

“Yeah. I’d guessed as much when you were having nightmares, along with you being on the side of the road, willing to go to Vegas with a stranger. Now, explain how you’re married, but yet you married me in Vegas.” Did I mention I’m pissed to hear of her belonging to another man? Because in my mind she is already mine and the concept of another coming for her makes me feel more like a junkyard dog, ready to tear someone a part rather than an ordinary man, with basic needs.

Her cheeks blush an addictive shade of pink, making me want to lean in and kiss her. I don’t.

“It’s not as devious as you’re thinking, at least not on my part.”

I dip my head so she’ll keep going and grab for a box of cheesy-ranch crackers. I take a handful before offering the box to her. She licks her lips and stares at them a beat before I shove them closer so she’ll take the damn box and eat some crackers. I know she’s hungry but too proud to admit as much and besides, it’s not like I’m offering her a steak, just some snacks. Although if she wants steak, I can arrange that too. We’ll see just how good this ‘other husband’ measures up when compared to me.

“Alright, so tell me about it then.” I relax back, crossing my ankles, attempting to be calm for her when inside I’m truly feeling like I want to break this guy’s hands to begin with.

“I was away at college when my parents sold their belongings. They moved to a gated community, and I came home to visit. Their sudden change didn’t sit well with me. I stayed with them for a holiday break and found out they’d moved to a religious neighborhood and were surrounded by kind people, wanting to live a slower paced life. I thought it was wonderful for them, and no longer worried, I returned to school.”

“You met this douche bag in college, then?”

She shakes her head. Pops a couple crackers in her mouth, chews, swallows, then sips the tea. “I kept coming back to visit my parents because everyone was kind and welcoming. We’d aways gone to church and such…”

“Fuck. Don’t tell me,” I cut in, connecting the dots, “is it that place east of Huntsville?”

She nods, gaze in her lap as if she has something to be ashamed of. No fucking way, she’s not to blame for anything, there’s not a doubt in my mind. “T-they seemed so genuine. Like good people.” She swallows and I can tell it’s from her voice growing hoarse with emotion.

“You’re safe, here, with me. I promise you that,” I say, and her lip trembles. Her gaze flicks to mine. She must recognize the sincerity in my stern gaze because she nods and continues her story.

“I wanted to return, to spend time with my family and even the others. It was a community. Before I knew it, I was switching to the long-distance program to finish my classes so I could stay with them. Eventually it kept changing, they’d keep me busy, and I became friends with the leader’s son.”

“Don’t they call him Profit or some shit? I saw a few news articles.”

“Yes. The last Profit died and his son took over.”

“Oh fuck no,” I can’t help but burst and a few tears escape her beautiful big brown eyes, trailing over her pale cheeks.

“He asked me to marry him and it was expected of me. I couldn’t say no without embarrassing my parents and upsetting the members of the community. There was so much pressure.”

“They never should’ve had you in that position.” I’m fucking fuming inside, ready to blow a goddamn gasket and burn down that fucking cult. Everyone around here knows damn well it’s a religious cult with a leader who believes he’s magical or some shit. Like he’s a legit God. Give me a motherfucking break. I will put this guy in the ground so fast he won’t know what hit him.

“She draws in a shaky breath and confesses, “So, I married him. I tried so hard to be a good wife and adapt to their way of life, I truly did. I got pregnant and had my precious daughter. Once I had her, it was like a light was suddenly shining over everything. I don’t know if things got worse or if I had rose-colored glasses on for a while, but after her…it all became clear. The abuse, physically and mentally. I knew I had to escape.”

“He hurt you? He touched you? I’m gonna fucking tear him straight up the middle for ever laying a finger on you, Sugar.” I’m saying the words before I think about them, the promises spill out almost on their own accord.

“His followers, t-they believe anything he tells them. It’s crazy there, almost surreal. I had to get out to save my daughter.”

“It’s a fucking cult, everyone around here knows it.”

Tears cover her face as she quietly sobs. Her hands keep swiping at her cheeks and it makes me want to be her champion. Me, the grumpy asshole who buries bodies for a living, I want to be her fucking hero. How ironic is that—the outlaw biker wanting to be good but only for a woman? Fuck the rest of the world.

“Where is she?”

“Graceful Joy, that’s her name. I call her my Gracie Girl. God, I miss her so much my heart literally hurts in my chest.”

“Where is Gracie, Sugar? He keep her?”

“I had to escape. I couldn’t get away with her because we’re never left alone unless it’s night and I couldn’t leave her there without someone to care for her. I thought if I got out, I could send the police in to help me save her.”

I grunt, having dealt with the local law enforcement time and again. “Yeah, the law around here isn’t like the others you’ll find in the city or wherever. Around these parts you have to pay them to get them to do anything for you or else they pretty much keep their noses out of shit.” Probably keeps them alive with all the crazy fuckers out in the boonies around here. On the flip side, people like Blair end up suffering because she has no way to get any sort of support when she more than deserves it. Unless you can pay for a lawyer, or pay for the cops’ help, you’re assed out and have to find another way to deal with problems.

“I found out the hard way when I went to their station. They acted like I was the crazy one. Told me to get a lawyer and file a restraining order. If Josef found out where I was from the order or the lawyer, it would’ve been over before it started, so I hid out. I’ve been trying to keep my head low, while figuring out a way to get my Gracie Girl back.”

“You come up with a plan yet?” I find myself asking, because I doubt going to Vegas with me was ever meant to be part of it.

“I tried getting a job, but no one would pay me under the table.”

“Friends?”

She shakes her head, chin down, peering into her lap like it has all the answers when in reality she has less than she did when she left the cult. At least there she had access to her kid, out here, she doesn’t have shit. No wonder why she took off the morning before I woke up; she’s got a lot of serious stuff going on in her life. “I stopped talking to everyone when I moved from school. I never had one specific best friend or anything, just several ‘friends.’ I have no phone, but it’s not like anyone would jump to help me, even if I did know their numbers.”

“Damn, baby. You’re in a fucked-up spot.”

“When I saw the marriage license in the hotel, I had to leave. I had no idea how to deal with any of it.”

I scoot to the end of the bed, taking her hand in mine. After a beat, she allows me to pull her closer, tucking her under my chin as I wrap my arms around her and just hold her. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but there’s something that makes me want to take away all the bad shit in her life and make things better for her. I know, a lot easier said than done. “Your face was on TV?”

“Yes.” She releases a heavy breath. “At the bus station, I saw the news reporting me missing. They claimed my parents, husband, and local church friends were terribly worried about my disappearance and if there were any sightings of me or other information to call the number on the screen.”

“Anybody recognize ya’?”

“I don’t think so. They had my college ID. My hair was shorter and lighter, it’s from a few years ago. Plus, I had on the hat and sunglasses.”

“Good girl,” I murmur. “He ever hit you, or was it all brainwashing mental abuse?”

“That’s the thing, he doesn’t have to hit anyone. If he declares someone a sinner, then the community demands the person to atone for their sins, to repent and ask for forgiveness.”

“I’ll ask it again and phrase it differently. He ever hurt you?”

“Yes,” she whispers so low, I barely hear the word leave her mouth.

Dipping down, I press a kiss to the top of her head and promise. “I’m gonna protect you and I’m going to hurt him if he comes for you. You’ll stay here and not have to worry about him ever again.”

“I can’t, I have to leave.” She pulls away, moving to stand about three feet away from me. There’s fire in her gaze which I love to see, but I’m the wrong person for her to aim it at. She needs to save all her anger for that twisted prick who runs the cult.

“You’re running from a cult leader and you think it’s a good idea for you to leave here? Are you crazy? He would be stupid to show up here. You’re safe. You take off and he could snatch your little ass right up.”

“If I stay here, I don’t get my daughter back. I’m going to walk out of here and you will tell your men to let me go.”

“Like fuck I will. And they’re not my men. They’re my brothers, or the prospects. I’m the Vice President here. We got Havoc, Creed, and Rogue. Anybody else tries to order you around besides us, you tell them to fuck right off and let me know. My mind is made up. You’ll remain on the compound while we get you filed for divorce from that crazy fucker.”

“My daughter-”

I stand, cutting her off. “We will get her. I’ll help you.”

Her forehead wrinkles as she folds her arms, cocking out her hip. She’s so goddamn gorgeous, I swear I can see why drunk me married her, he was thinking with his dick and not his head. “How can you help?”

“We have a lawyer friend who can file the necessary paperwork. Once that’s taken care of, we can either fight for custody or I can go in with a few guys and take her. You’ll wake up one morning and she’ll be in bed beside you. It’s up to you how you wanna handle it.”

“Why on earth would you do that for me?”

“Because, Sugar. You’re my wife.”

“I’m already married.”

“Yeah, and? I got a marriage license saying you’re mine. You’ll divorce him and stay married to me. How’d that happen anyway? It should’ve been against the law.”

“My guess is Josef and I were married in the spiritual way and he never filed for the license. It would make sense; they don’t like leaving a trail of any sort of paperwork.”

“See, I knew you belonged to me. He doesn’t get to have you. I’ll get your girl back, then she’ll become mine too.”