Page 12 of Crow

You could always woo her with your exceptionally charming personality. Tell her how you looked her up online. Tell her how you want to eat her sweet pussy like a four course meal and come on her pretty tits.

There we go.

I find myself veering off the road anyway, back into the asphalt parking lot. It has to be after two. Most of the bikes and other vehicles are gone, but the ancient old blue monstrosity that belongs to Tarynn is there, lonely, at the far side of the lot.

I pull up beyond it, killing my bike and leaving it parked in the shadows. The parking lot is ringed by tall trees. Perfect for someone with nefarious intent to hide out and wait for the young women who waitress here to come out after their shifts.Just thinking that sparks a surge of wild anger that I can barely tamp down.

Are you going to start following her around? Making sure she’s safe? How exciting. Ask Gunner for some pointers after all. He could give you a master class in first rate stalking. Scratch that. Second rate. He got his ass kicked by the woman he was creeping because he’s really just amateur hour.

Asshole.

Love you too, sweetheart.

I wait with my arms folded, leaning against my bike, the dark of night concealing me. I tell myself that all I’m going to do is wait and watch, make sure that Tarynn makes it to her car safely. I know it’s a bad idea. I should leave. Tarynn will be fine. Patti always makes sure her staff makes it out okay. I know for a fact that she watches from the backdoor. My worries are misplaced.

This is a terrible idea. Raven’s silence seems ominous.

The back door opens suddenly, spilling light onto the darkened asphalt. Patti’s voice drifts out into the night and Tarynn steps out. She’s only halfway to her car, her boots echoing against the asphalt, when she waves Patti off. The door shuts, cutting off the light. Tarynn fumbles with her keys. The light from the diner’s windows doesn’t reach out to her car. My throat closes up as anger chokes me. There’s no fucking way she should be this careless about her safety.

I shouldn’t approach her, but I mean to have a few words about it and offer her a brief explanation that will no doubt turn her off the idea of ever getting on the back of any bike.

I’m silent as I walk over. She’s still fumbling with her keys, the car so old that it needs one inserted into a physical lock before she can get in. Sneaking up on her will only enforce my point.

“Tarynn.”

The second her name leaves my mouth, she shrieks, whirls around, and delivers a swift swipe to my jaw. Her knuckles don’t make contact, but the keys do. They’re threaded through her fingers and at least she has the sense to use them like a weapon. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have the sense to see it coming.

My skin tears, pain blooming red hot at the serrated metal cuts deep. I don’t have time to react to the smell and feel of my own blood before Tarynn follows up her key attack with a pointed cowboy boot straight to my nuts.

I drop to the pavement so fast I don’t even know how I got down there. There’s no groaning, only gagging. I retch and cough, spraying a thin line of spittle over my bloody chin onto the ground. The air I try to force into my collapsed lungs is hot, salty metal, and dusty tar.

“Crow? Jesus Christ! What are you doing here?”

Even though I’m practically paralyzed and just about had the lower half of my face ripped off, the sound of her—of all people—taking the Lord’s name in vain, hits me hard. Right in my pulverized balls, which only makes them throb harder.

Again, you didn’t let me have time to get the popcorn, you bastard. Wait! Hold that pose. I need a photo for posterity’s sake. Just so the next time you ask me what our lowest low is, I can remind you of this exact moment. Laughing my nuts off.Except not. Those are our nuts, douchebag. Take better care of them or I’m going to rip out and make you sorry.

Oh, I’m sorry alright. I’m sorry that I ever underestimated this woman. I’m sorry that she drops to her knees on the dirty, grimy asphalt and tries to help me. I flinch away from her touch, not wanting her to get blood and spittle on her hands.

I roll away, shoving to my hands and knees, dragging in ragged gulps of air while my jaw drips blood all over.

“You’re not okay,” Tarynn whimpers. “Hold on. Err… no. Can you get up? I need to get you inside. Patti has a first aid kit in the kitchen. I used keys on you. Dirty old metal. Do you have a current tetanus shot? Oh gosh. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She fumbles with her bag and does the worst thing she can do. She turns her phone’s flashlight on and shines it right into my face.

“Argh!” she screams, quickly whipping it away. “That’s going to need stitches.”

“I’m fine,” I choke out.

“And some ice for your groin.”

“Totally… fine,” I lie through gritted teeth. There’s a good chance I might die from the pain in my balls.

“You’re not.” Her perfect, warm little hands slide around my shoulder. My whole body recoils and leans into her touch. I’m used to being torn, but not like this. “Let me help you inside. You can’t go anywhere like this. I’ll give you a ride- err- home after?”

“Now that the initial shock of being ball bagged is wearing off, I’m feeling much better. Thank you anyway.”

I shake her off and stagger to my feet, but the warm gush of blood stops me cold. Fuck. How bad is it? The way she recoils at the bloody rainstorm tells me that I can’t go anywhere without some doctoring. I need a goddamn bandage on this. A few inches lower and she could have torn out my artery.

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