Lakelyn
The man staring at River and me made me want to piss myself.
He was dangerous. I knew that just by looking at him.
And that was without knowing he was a biker and the president of a motorcycle club.
No one in their right mind would see him and think they were safe.
Why had we come down here to look for food and cans?
We should’ve stayed in a nicer area, but those were risky for a different reason.
It was after nine o’clock at night. Most of the buildings around here were businesses.
They should all be empty at this time of night.
Just our rotten luck to stumble across one that wasn’t, and the man in it was a hardass.
I had to think of a way to get us free of him.
He still held onto my brother. I’d have to get him to let go.
Then, it was time to move to another town.
“Close the door. If you run, he stays with me,” Tyrant said gruffly.
My heart pounded, and my legs weakened. I did as he ordered. River’s eyes met mine. He was panicking. So was I. This situation was all my fault. If he hadn’t come with me, he’d be safe. Well, probably not, but it was a hope. He would be hidden, at least.
When I did as he said, Tyrant pointed to the chairs in front of the desk where he was standing. “I want you to sit there.”
He released River’s arm. Both of us slowly crept to the chairs.
River sat in the one closest to Tyrant as if he could do anything to protect me from that man.
I watched the biker remove a cell phone from his leather vest. He moved so he was between us and the door.
He typed on it but kept flicking his eyes up to check on us. As he did, I took time to catalog him.
He wasn’t someone I’d call handsome. He was too rugged for that.
Some would be turned off or even scared by his tattoos.
They weren’t just on his arms but also on the back of his hands and fingers.
He had them on his neck, along his jawline, in front of his ears, and above them where the hair was shaved away.
Looking at those, I wondered if his entire body was covered in them.
Rather than turning me off, they made me want to see how many more his clothes hid.
I had never cared one way or another whether a man had tattoos.
On Tyrant, they made him appear even more deadly and intriguing.
He was a man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill, and as terrible as it sounded, I was ensnared rather than repelled.
His skin was what I called a toffee color—deep-colored skin with warm golden undertones.
His hair was black, a few inches long, but shaved bare from halfway down the sides and around the back.
His eyes were medium brown and intense. How he looked at you made you feel like he could read your thoughts.
He was over six feet tall by a couple of inches, and his body was muscular but not overly bulky.
His clothes clung to him, revealing he was strong and fit.
I was drawn to him, physically turned on, yet slightly repelled and scared.
How the hell was that possible? The way we’d been living was screwing up my head.
I shook my head to break the connection.
I had to remember who I was, why we were here, and what could happen.
Escape was my priority, not being fascinated with a dangerous beast. I must’ve been lost in studying him for a while because his phone was gone, and he leaned there, staring intently back at us. It was past time to get out of here.
“I’m sorry that we trespassed. I can assure you that we won’t do it again. We weren’t trying to steal. We just wanted to see if there were cans we could recycle or even food. I swear, if you let us go, you’ll never see us again,” I told him. River nodded his head.
“You’re homeless. Are there more of you?” Tyrant responded.
“Yes, we’re homeless. And no, there’s not more of our family, but others will be expecting us,” I hastily added. I was positive he didn’t believe the last part, but didn’t say anything.
“Why would you think this area is good to scavenge in? There aren’t any restaurants or grocery stores around here.”
He was right, but those places were overrun with other homeless, and we tried not to step into their territories.
Those living on the streets could be territorial and even a threat.
Some lived on the streets due to mental illness.
Others had nowhere to go, and then some did it voluntarily.
River and I fit partially into the second and third groups.
“It was less likely to have been picked over,” River told him.
“And? I know there’s more to it. Remember, I know if you’re lying. What else?” Tyrant asked him.
“And it’s safer. We’re not likely to step on toes and get into others’ claimed spaces,” my brother added.
“How long have you two been living like this? What happened?” Tyrant asked.
He was pretending to be casual, but I heard the unspoken demand in his tone.
He expected us to answer him truthfully and spill all our secrets.
It was too dangerous for us to do that. I stood, and his eyes focused on me.
I moved closer so my back was to River. I signaled him with my hand behind my back.
I knew he wouldn’t like it, but he’d do it.
“It’s been a while. Listen, we don’t want any trouble. Please don’t call the cops. I know you could have us arrested for trespassing, but I beg you not to. We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re moving on. Turmoil isn’t the place for us. Sorry to have inconvenienced you.”
As I finished, my brother came to his feet.
He took off for the door, and I slammed my hands onto Tyrant’s chest to push him off balance so I could run.
We’d get outside and disappear into the darkness.
That’s how it should’ve gone, but it didn’t.
Instead, I was captured and pulled against Tyrant’s chest. His hands gripped my arms tightly, but not so tightly that they left bruises.
“Don’t stop!” I shouted to River.
He yanked the door open and came to a halt.
Standing there were two huge men. They weren’t as scary as Tyrant, but they were close.
My heart sank as they moved into the room, backing up my brother.
I tried to wiggle free, but there was no way.
I craned my neck to see them over my shoulder.
Terror filled me. Oh my God, what would they do to us?
I gulped. I knew what my fate was, or at least the first half.
I tried not to show my fear, though inside, I shook and wanted to cry.
The last one in kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot. They both ran their gazes over us.
“Hey, Pres, what’s up? You said you needed some assistance with intruders and to come in quietly.
Is this them? They don’t look too hard to handle.
You didn’t say anything about one being such a gorgeous little thing,” the lead man’s voice boomed.
He was running his eyes up and down me. There was interest there.
I shivered and shrank from him, which pushed me further into Tyrant. His hands let go of my arms, and his arms hugged me closer. A rumble was barely detectable under my ear, which was pressed to Tyrant’s chest.
The second man grinned. “If I’d known this is what you could catch at night, I would’ve been hanging out here before this. What do you want us to do with them?”
Nausea assailed me, and despite my efforts, a soft whimper escaped.
“Shut the hell up,” Tyrant snapped.
“Don’t touch my sister. Do with me whatever you want, but let her go,” River said, standing tall despite the terror I saw on his face.
I tried to get loose again, to no avail. “No, don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you want. Let him go. He’s just a kid,” I pleaded. I knew the horrors that could occur when you were homeless. I’d heard enough of them and even seen a few.
“Jesus Christ, that’s enough! Stop trying to sacrifice yourself for the other. Did you bring what I asked for?” Tyrant asked the first guy.
“We did,” he answered.
I noticed that his vest read Satyr. That look he gave me told the story—he was one.
The one behind him moved closer and out from behind Satyr so that I could read his.
It read Brutus and then Enforcer. Another whimper slipped out.
I knew nothing about motorcycle clubs or gangs, but I knew what the word “enforcer” meant.
I felt Tyrant’s arm move, and then he tossed Satyr a set of keys. “Lock up. Meet us outside.”
I knew begging these men would do me no good. River gave me an apologetic look. Sorry, he mouthed.
I love you, I mouthed back.
Love you, too, he responded.
Tyrant and Brutus were moving us toward the door. Brutus reached back and snagged my brother’s arm. I stumbled because my legs were shaking so hard. I heard a growl, and then I was swept off my feet. I let out a squeal of fright. I found myself cradled in Tyrant’s arms.
“I can carry her, Pres,” Satyr offered.
“Just do what I told you,” Tyrant answered gruffly.
The night had cooled off even more in the time I was inside.
The warmth of the garage felt good. We were taken out the back door, and I saw a van with the engine running.
They headed straight toward it. Brutus opened the back door and pushed River toward it.
My brother reluctantly climbed in. There was a guy behind the wheel—five against two.
We didn’t stand a chance. When Tyrant reached it, he placed me gently on my feet.
“Step up. Watch your head.” He put his hand on my head as he barely pushed down. I stumbled and then righted myself. When I was seated, he ordered us to put on our seatbelts, which we did.
“I’ll take the lead. You sit in the back with them and have Satyr up front. They’re not to be interrogated, Brutus. Let’s go home.”
“Home? You’re taking them there. What the hell did they do?” Satyr asked as he rejoined them.
“Never mind that. Let’s go. It’s late,” Tyrant said.
Brutus got in and sat beside me. I shrank over to lean against my brother. Satyr got in the front with the other man. The roar of a motorcycle captured my attention. I saw a headlight, and then a figure on a motorcycle came out in front of us. As it took off, so did we.
I tried not to let my fear overwhelm me, but it was hard. Talk about jumping from the frying pan into the fire. I would give anything to wake up and find that the past two months were a nightmare, or to go back a year and prevent what happened. Or not to have dragged River into it.