Page 67 of Crow

Crow’s right. I don’t know why I’m like this. I guess it’s going to take a while for the rage and frustration at having spent years unloved and fucking caged to fade.

“What do you mean, what are we doing here?” I need to know if he’s talking about club business, Tarynn, or Connie, before I know how to answer that.

Of course, it’s all three, because I’m the common denominator. Everything I do affects the other.

Ty pushes off the door and takes a step into the room. When I don’t lunge off the bed to attempt to break him in half—he’s a big man, so it would probably take several tries—he ventures forward with another. Finally, he drops down in the chair where Tarynn sat when she was here, eyes scanning the bookshelves.

“I like reading too,” he muses. “I knew you did, but I didn’t realize just how much.

Tyrant might be our president, but he’s not forceful. He’s not paranoid like Zale, who never would have let a man lock him out of what he saw as his own clubhouse. The guys might have had rooms in it, but Zale viewed all of it as his.

Tyrant is more like a benevolent guardian of the place, protecting our right to life, freedom, safety, and brotherhood. That includes our rights to having our privacy and the sanctity of our own space.

“Who’s your favorite?”

“Tarynn likes Dickens.”

“Ahh. And you? It’s impossible to choose, isn’t it.”

I don’t think we’re talking about books. No. I know we’re not talking about books. “I think that if you’re not constantly discovering new authors to fall in love with and be amazed by, you’re doing it wrong. Life is long. It probably shouldn’t be lived with only singular experiences.”

Tyrant nods. He sets his hands on his knees, gripping the worn spots in his faded jeans. He fills up that chair, on the verge of breaking the damn thing even though it’s sturdy. I don’t know why that makes my heart race, banging straight into fight mode. I’ve been there for years, watching things through Crow’s eyes. I know these men as well as he does. They just don’t know me. I know that Tyrant is a good man and that he came in herebecause he has the club to worry about first, but also because he meant to support me, not tear me a new one, but all the same, I still want to lunge off this bed and sink my teeth into his jugular before I tear out his throat.

What the fuck, Raven? There’s self-preservation and then there’s just unhinged psychopath territory. Don’t make me sorry that we’re doing this. Scratch that, I’m already sorry.

Despite his annoyance, Crow doesn’t try and wrestle me out of our body. He doesn’t shove me straight to the background. It’s not just because Tyrant would see it all happen. Crow wants to make good on his word. He might not have made a promise to me and the peace truce or whatever it is that’s between us might be tenuous, but he gave Tarynn his word.

“I have no doubts about you. I know you’re not leaving the club. We don’t chain men here. You knew that you could go away for a few days, since we’re in downtime right now. We didn’t have any rides or jobs planned. You let people know where you’d be, and if we’d needed to call, I know you would have answered and been right back here. I’m not asking aboutyou.”

“You’re asking for the club.”

“I’m asking for the protection of the club. I need to know what might be coming at us.”

I stroke Connie’s fur gently, concentrating on that spot between her ears because sometimes it makes her give little doggy grunts of pleasure. One other thing I love about dogs so far? That she snores. Loudly. She makes other strange sounds that aren’t growls or barks. I read up on German shepherds while Tarynn was driving, and most people say that the grunting and groaning is a thing. I like it. Very much.

“I know I went to Vegas with a woman I barely knew after I helped her abscond from her home, and I came back with a dog. I know that doesn’t make much sense to anyone.” I finally lift my hand so Tyrant can see the gold band there.

He shoots straight out of the chair like there’s an ass eating monster tunneling up from the floor. “What the fuck, Crow?” He starts to pace, silently debating with himself how to deal with this.

Fact is, if you’re a one percenter, you’re not like other people. With us, he’s come to expect all sorts of the fucked up unexpected.

“Okay.” Whatever he has going on in his head, his eyes aren’t danger. It makes me three percent less likely to want to break all the bones in his body. He nods. “Okay. I guess that answers my questions. Unless you tell me differently, I don’t think this warrants calling church, but I need to know if the other church, the one Tarynn grew up in, is going to be coming for us. You know that it’s important to me that the community doesn’t hate or fear us. I have a daughter. She’s going into kindergarten soon. She’s a part of this community and I don’t want life to be rough for her, or any of the other kids, because of me.”

“I know you feel that you have a duty to protect this city, but—”

“Not just me,” he reproaches gently. “All of us. We all do. You’re a part of this community too.” His posture soften along with his voice. “What can I do to help Tarynn make this transition?”

“Nothing,” I bristle. “I’ve taken care of it. She’s staying in one of my properties, she has a job, she’s going to school in the fall. We’ve got it paid for.”

“I meant her transition into being an old lady.”

It’s nearly impossible to ignore the protective instincts screaming inside of me. Tarynn is legally my wife, but in reality, I don’t really know what we are. Moving at the speed of light when we should be taking baby steps. I’m scared to death that I’m going to ruin all of this. Now. Six months from now. Years down the road.

I’m at a pivotal fucking point here myself.

Ourselves. We’re at a pivotal fucking point.

That’s what I mean. I don’t know if I want to tell the club about us. I don’t know if Crow does either. If we do it, it’ll take a good while to figure out how, and for them to get used to the idea. I’m already basically a loner around here. I can’t see guys wanting to be friendlier after I tell them that I’m two steps away from a—

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