Chapter Five #3
“I want you to hear me very clearly, Lyric. Be very clear. You will not be picking up men. You do and that man is dead. I don’t give a fuck who he is.
He puts a hand on you or you’re pissed at me and decide to see what kissing someone else feels like, you’ve signed his death certificate.
” He couldn’t sit there, not with the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
He got up and went out of the cave, pacing away until he could get himself under control.
What the fuck was she thinking saying something like that to him?
He’d done this to himself. In order to reassure her, he’d spilled his guts to her like a fuckin’ pussy, and now she was going to disrespect him because she didn’t have one iota of fear of him.
That was going to change in a big way. She wasn’t going to run the show and lead him around by his cock.
Or worse, his heart. He didn’t have a heart.
He didn’t want one, and if he had one, he wasn’t giving it to a woman.
He paced a good distance away from the cave and began to hunt for firewood.
He might as well work off his temper. The problem was he needed sex.
He’d gone a long time without, and it would take the edge off if he found a woman he could fuck hard and dirty, get himself off and things would go back to the way they should be.
He was on shaky ground letting a woman in.
He knew better. He’d had a hundred lessons, and each one was branded on his soul.
He couldn’t let this happen, whatever “this” was.
Because it was tearing him up. He didn’t like the way she could tie him into knots and turn him inside out.
It wasn’t comfortable and it wasn’t him.
He was done with being nice. That wasn’t his personality, and he couldn’t keep treating her with kid gloves. She knew better than to throw other men in his face. That was pure bullshit.
He stood over the narrow rushing stream, watching it run over rocks, the water flashing a glittery silver.
He let his breath out slowly. It wasn’t like he could claim he was being fair and reasonable.
He expected her to go back with him to Caspar.
He was demanding she make the effort to fit in with his family.
What did he really expect her to do when she was there?
Set up a hair salon in one of the empty business units the club owned?
She enjoyed her salon, and she would make a go of it.
She was that good. He wanted her to live in his home, so yeah, run the house, make it home.
Right now, it was nothing, a place he retreated to for solitude, but it was as ice-cold as he was.
As his life was. He wanted her to do something with it.
He picked up a rock and tossed it from hand to hand.
What would he be doing while she was doing all that?
He’d resume his life. Yeah, he’d go to the bar and pick up women to try to relieve the constant ache in his cock.
He’d party hard when Torpedo Ink threw one.
That was when he sometimes found two women to do at the same time.
What did he expect Lyric to do when he was fucking other women?
His mind shied away from the answer. He didn’t want to go there, but to be fair to her, he had to.
After work she often went to the bar to listen to music.
She wasn’t a big drinker, but she enjoyed the company.
She knew most of those who frequented the bar, with its atrocious music.
She even would line dance with some of the women.
Did he expect her to stay out of the bar after work?
Keys rubbed the bridge of his nose, appalled at his own thoughts. He did expect her to stay out of the bar. He wanted her to focus on him, yet by his own admission, he didn’t plan to be there for her. At least not physically, and now he was declaring he wouldn’t be emotionally.
He tossed the rock into the stream, cursing out loud. “She’s turning me inside out.” He hissed and cursed again. He had never been in more trouble than he was right at that moment, because he had to figure it out, and no matter which way he chose, he was well and truly fucked.
Bottom line, he’d told her the stark, raw truth. He couldn’t live without her. He didn’t want to live without her. It sounded dramatic as all hell, but that was the bottom line. So, knowing that, what was he going to do?
He watched the water tumbling over the rocks. So many sizes of rock. Some were like small pebbles, while others were very large. The water didn’t change direction, it kept flowing, strong. Steady. Staying on course. No matter the obstacles in its path, that water kept moving.
“Bottom line, baby, you belong with me. I don’t know exactly how we’re going to get there, but we’re getting there.”
It was too bad for her that she hadn’t had other experiences.
He wasn’t a gentle man when it came to sex.
He wasn’t all about pleasing his partner as a rule.
He treated sex the way he did everything else in his life.
It was necessary, and he did it on his terms. He liked rough sex.
He always was the one in control, and that wasn’t going to change. Just maybe the way he approached it.
He’d always had multiple partners. Always.
He always walked away without looking back.
When he claimed Lyric as his, did he plan to be a one-woman man?
That was a legitimate question any woman would want answered.
He wasn’t a liar. He didn’t plan to give Lyric options.
She was going to stay with him. Not only was she staying, he was going to be the only man who touched her.
That was a given. Just contemplating for one moment sharing her with another man sent his monster into a killing rage.
What did that mean? The monster knew more than the man.
Keys believed in justice, or he wouldn’t do the things he did.
He believed in fairness. Living free. Making his own rules.
But that came with a strict code of honor.
It was skewed, but it was his. Bottom line, he couldn’t fuck other women unless Lyric could fuck other men.
That was the balance. The fairness. But there was no way in hell he could allow that to happen.
Was he capable of being faithful to one woman? That was a big leap. He’d never considered such a thing. Especially a woman he cared about. One he couldn’t live without. One who would end up owning him so his freedom would be in question.
Lyric would walk away. She was already on the verge of flight.
It wasn’t that she didn’t care, she did.
Like him, she cared too much. She didn’t believe his emotions were involved the way hers were.
She knew herself, she’d spelled it out for him, all the reasons they weren’t compatible.
Under all the bullshit reasons there was that one real one.
If he claimed her and they were intimate together and he walked away or turned to another woman, she would be shattered.
She’d stated that in no uncertain terms.
Lyric was nothing if not honest. He had the ability to destroy her.
She was that soft inside. When he claimed her, he would have to keep that always uppermost in his mind.
He couldn’t carelessly let loose his temper on her because he feared she would get the upper hand in their relationship.
He had his demons. He would have to lay them out to her, not as an excuse, but because he wanted to give her everything he was.
Let her know she held that one piece of him that was as vulnerable as she was.
He made up his mind, but the doing of it wasn’t going to be easy. He wasn’t yet that man. He had too many demons to perfect his skills with a woman like Lyric. She needed certain things from him, and he’d have to learn what those things were and how best to implement them without losing himself.
The one thing he knew for certain was Lyric Johansen had been created for him.
If that was true, then it stood to reason he was the one man created for her.
He could shelter her in a way no other man could.
He could see to those soft parts of her, the ones others would destroy.
He could teach her about family, bring her in slowly until she understood they would accept her just the way she was. He could do all that.
He took a deep breath and let it out. He would have to convince her, and the one sticking point would be the other women.
She knew him too well. She’d seen him so many times jerk his chin at a woman, leave with her, and come back with the woman clinging and purring and him ignoring her.
There was no way to undo that. He would go on runs with his brothers.
He would go to the parties. She would always be worried. He had no way of combating that.
The worst would be when he couldn’t tell her where he was going and he’d disappear for days or weeks.
She would wonder, and she’d have every right to.
Those were things he would have to consider and prepare for.
He knew Lyric. She wouldn’t sit at home and wonder.
She’d stuff everything of value to her in her backpack and she’d take off.
He made his way back to the little space he called a cave and entered, stacking the wood meticulously, reviving the fire, and pulling off his boots to set them aside to dry.
She hadn’t looked up from where she was lying on the sleeping bag.
She wasn’t crying because she wouldn’t give that to him.
He’d stomped on her, and she wasn’t about to give him her tears.
Strange how he never would have tolerated a woman manipulating him by crying. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, but now he’d give anything to have Lyric trust him with her tears.
“You awake?” He sat across from her bed. He could see she still had a headache, but she’d been applying a cold cloth to her face.
“Yes.”