Page 17

Tarynn

Y ou can do the drive from Las Vegas to Seattle any number of ways. There are routes that are longer and more scenic, ones inland, or ones that trace along the coast. I looked at all the options yesterday, when we got the call from the vet that he wanted to keep the dog for another day, but she’d be ready to go by this morning. It meant that we had an extra day to buy ourselves a vehicle to get home.

Despite my protests about taking money from him, Crow sat through another few hours of poker and made enough to pay the vet’s bill, buy a decent car, and to cover my full tuition for cosmetology school.

I’m sitting here behind the wheel of a black Volvo station wagon that I still can’t believe is mine. I protested every which way I could think of, but Crow just shrugged and said that money meant almost nothing to him. He had more than enough accumulated already. It got to the point where he told me that if I didn’t take what he’d won at poker and use it, he’d walk right up to one of those sky bridges in Vegas and dump the whole boatload off.

I’m pretty sure doing something like that is illegal and could cause multiple accidents, which would get us into a lot of trouble, not to mention probably get us sued ten ways to Sunday or even thrown in jail.

We bought the car and then we spent our last night at the hotel, packed up, and picked up Connie.

I don’t know where Crow pulled that name from, but he said we couldn’t just call her dog.

She’s fast asleep in the huge nest we made her in the backseat. Before we got her, he bought a large flat dog bed and several pillows, which we have stuffed all around her so that she won’t get jostled. The vet gave her some pretty heavy painkillers before we picked her up, and twelve hours later, she’s still asleep.

Because he’s anxious to get Connie back somewhere she can adjust to healing and her new environment, Crow wanted to blast right through. Right through is still eighteen hours of driving. He took the first twelve while I napped on and off to be fresh for my shift. he tried to argue about being fine, but I wouldn’t let him.

It’s now nearly ten. Unlike some people, driving at night has never bothered me. I know that I’m probably missing a lot of the changing topography—the drive has been so unique and beautiful, with the country and scenery changing so drastically, but it is what it is.

It’s not right to ask Patti to give me infinite days off, and Crow has multiple jobs that he probably has to get back for.

Even if Connie wasn’t traveling with us, it’s not like we have endless time.

I stare through the darkened night, alert and attentive to the road. I’m driving in silence, with no music on. There’s a replacement deck in here, and I could program my phone in to listen to something, but I haven’t yet.

Crow has to be exhausted, but I know he’s still awake.

I think we both know that going back home means returning to reality. I’m afraid of losing this tentative connection with him. I don’t know what he’s feeling and I’m almost afraid to ask. How does one build a future with another person? Blending two lives so suddenly seems nearly impossible. If these past few days have been bricks, we don’t have nearly enough to build anything more than the start of one tiny wall.

But that’s not nothing.

That’s something.

I know from all the times I’ve helped my parents build houses in other countries, to know how they go together. Beam by beam, piece by piece, painstakingly, with time. But the one constant is that there are always plenty of people needed.

Right now, we’re very alone.

When my stomach starts to churn and cramp with nerves twenty minutes later, I know that I have to say something.

“I’ve never had a best friend. I’ve never had anyone who I’ve thought of as my safe space. Was there ever…” I sigh, the moment suspended between us, even while we hurtle forward. “Was there ever anyone for you?”

He doesn’t slant an odd look at me for choosing this topic seemingly out of nowhere. He doesn’t evade either, responding flatly while he looks straight ahead. “No. I got by in school because I hid who I was. I pretended to be normal. I even got good at it, but it’s so fucking exhausting.”

I swallow thickly. I can’t imagine having to do that. I hate that he grew up the way he did. I hate that he can’t find peace even now. “There’s not anyone at the club?”

“No. I’ve never even thought about telling them. The guys are fine. Some of them are even good people. I just never wanted to let them know. It wasn’t their fault. They might have understood.” He bows his head, his misery is clear in his words. “It was me. Instead of making my peace with Raven, I was busy trying to lock him away and pretend that he didn’t exist.” A beat of painful silence passes. “No wonder he hates me.”

I grip the wheel too hard. “I don’t think he hates you.”

“Maybe. But he’s been pissed off for a long time. The more control I exerted, the more pissed he got, which only pressed me to try harder, which only made him angrier. The whole token vicious fucking cycle.”

I had a thought the night before last. Crow fell asleep before I did and I snuggled up next to him, I breathed him in and dreamed up a world where he and Raven could both thrive. I wasn’t going to say anything for a while yet, mostly because I feel that I don’t fully understand, and who am I to lecture him about anything, but does it have to be a lecture?

“Do you think that if you and Raven worked out a schedule and you trusted him to be let out that it might not be so bad for you after?”

When he doesn’t answer, I whip my eyes to the side quickly. I expect to find him tense, even angry, but looks pensive, as though he’s honestly considering it.

“Maybe you could both learn to transition into being the dominant personality so that it’s almost seamless. No more headaches, no more being so sick, no more fighting it or beating each other up. No more trapping your body between two warring factions.”

His breath unspools for a long time. He rests his head on the pillar of the passenger side. “I don’t know if I can do it. It’s hard to trust. And then there’s you.”

“Me?” I squeak. “You don’t trust me with Raven?”

“I don’t trust him with you.”

“Are you jealous?” I try to ask that as delicately as I can, without accusation. “Or are you afraid that he’ll do something to drive me away?”

“Not on purpose. He likes you. It’s the only thing we’ve ever been in agreement on.”

“He’s not going to drive me away.”

I want to pull over. I want to have this conversation face to face, but there’s no way I’m going to just veer off to the side of the road. That’s not safe. All I can do is keep flicking my gaze between the road and his side profile.

“Are you afraid that I’ll fall for him? That I’ll prefer him over you?” He doesn’t answer. I don’t think he can. I hate putting him in that position. “It’s not going to happen. I would enjoy spending time with both of you. It would maybe be a little bit strange for all of us at first, learning to be in a throuple.” I can’t control the insane little giggle that bursts out.

He finally turns, gaping at me. Yes. I really did say that. Throuple .

“Look at me. Typical pastor’s daughter gone buck wild,” I say, laughing at myself. “I’m talking about being with two men and liking it. Well, two people, one body. I still say it counts.” I glance at my hand on the wheel, the gold band glinting in every light, every sweep of headlights from the opposite highway.

“I don’t think you’ve got wild.”

“I went to Vegas and got married. I’m with a badass biker who also happens to have a kickass alter ego. I’m moving into your house. I came back with a dog. We’ve been there for each other like we’re already a family. Maybe the only truly wild part of all of this is that only thing that scares me is that it’s going to end when we get back to reality.”

Crow’s hand shoots out. It hovers by the screen, but he doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t turn on any music or take my phone out of the center console and get it connected. “Nothing has to end if we don’t want it to,” he says roughly.

“It’s just that we started so unexpectedly. What if it doesn’t work out?” The churning in my stomach is getting worse. Maybe I should just shut up. Then again, I’m not borrowing trouble by putting this out there. I want to share this with Crow. I want him to know how I’m feeling. I want him to comfort me without lying to me. I know he won’t do that.

“I don’t know,” his hand falls back to his lap. “Then we hurt, and we move on.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Or Raven. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know. It would be the last thing I’d ever want.”

“Is this real? I know what I said, but I… I’m starting to lose track.”

A truck rushes up beside us, probably going at least thirty miles faster than we are. It gives me a start as the engine roars by. I’m going five miles above the speed limit. I watch Crow’s brows crush down towards the bridge of his nose.

He shakes his head. “Assfuck. He’s going to kill someone.” He’s still shaking his head at the truck, which is so far ahead of us his taillights look like little red eyes in the distance. “I want you to be happy,” he grunts. “That’s it. We can stay married to the outside world. No one has to know the truth. You can live in the house for as long as you want. You can go to hair school. We’ll share the dog. You’ll either learn to be a part of the club, or if you hate it, that’s cool too. It doesn’t have to be your life just because it’s mine. You’ll work and I’ll work. Your family will either continue to be assholes or they’ll grow two braincells and figure out what a wonderful person you are, and they’ll come around to respecting you for who you are.”

“Raven?”

“No,” Crow snorts. “It’s still me. I can be funny too, you know.”

“I know. If I can be whatever and whoever I want, you can too. Has anyone ever told you that?” I shouldn’t even ask. I know that they haven’t. “I’m telling you now. It’s okay to be exactly who you are. I think you were built perfect. I know there’s things you probably wish were different, but I wouldn’t change anything. I know that’s easy for me to say, but that’s the way I truly feel. The best thing I ever did was talk to you that first night. I don’t understand why you picked me, why you’ve been my safe place through all this, but I’m thankful.”

“I was looking for a safe place too. Raven wasn’t, but he found it in you anyway. He didn’t get us married for no reason. He certainly didn’t do it just for me.”

We’re both quiet, processing everything that we’ve said.

The night is quiet around us. There’s hardly anyone on this stretch of highway. It’s flat right now. We’ve been through everything from red, rolling hills to woodland before we reached flat plains.

“Everything you think I’ve given you, you’ve given me far more,” Crow says, breaking the silence first. “You deserved to be set free. Maybe I recognized that and wanted to give it to you. Maybe I sensed that you could help me. There’s more wild animal in human beings than they know. Instinct is strong. I’m also using double the brain cells that most people do.”

I slide my right hand to his knee, capturing his hand. Instead of lacing our fingers together, he holds my palm to his. It leaves me index finger free to trace his pulse. I press down against the beat, keeping time in my head to the strong pulse. I feel the tremor go through him. At the moment, it’s not restraint.

“I’m terrified,” I admit. “Our bubble is about to burst. I feel like we’re living one of those fantasies I mentioned, where none of this should be possible.”

“Doesn’t everyone feel like that, when they first start? Like everything is real and surreal all at once?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.”

His low, rumbly laugh is a pleasant surprise. “My parents taught me what dating should look like.”

“What did your parents say it should be? Attending church together, pounding the Bible daily instead of each other, waiting until marriage, rushing into things because you’re horny and repressed as fuck, finding out you’re not compatible in the least and because you probably can’t get a divorce, spending the rest of your life together making each other miserable while presenting a good face to the rest of the world?”

It feels wrong to laugh, so I bite it back. “That’s pretty much the gist of it, only they made their version sound perfect. My mom would say marriage is about love. Loving your husband and loving god. Living a biblical life, which means respecting your husband as the head of the household and being a helpmate to him to ensure that he lives a godly life. It means keeping each other accountable so you don’t stray off the right path. Learning how to be a good support to him and your children.”

“That sounds fucking hokey.”

This time, I burst into a fit of giggles.

“I agree with the respect part and maybe the building each other up part, but that’s about it.” Crow has to talk over my laughter. “The head of a household? No one has authority over you but you, Tarynn. You have every right to make your own choices. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care about others, but you can’t live your life bending and bowing to their whims.”

That sobers me up fast. “I know. I’ve seen the way my mom’s whole life revolves around my dad. His wants, his needs, his schedules, his enjoyment. She’s made him a god, in a way.”

“That sounds more like blind servitude than faith.”

“I think that’s some people’s very definition of faith.”

I squeeze his hand. What I’m going to say now is important. I’ve been too scared that by putting it out there, I’d ruin the beautiful thing that we’ve found together, whether it’s real or just an illusion, but I need to say it. I can’t wait, or it’s going to weigh on me for the rest of the drive.

“I need you to promise me something. It’s not going to be easy. Not just you, but Raven as well.”

Crow studies me hard, and then his hand pulls away, shifting around so he can press his fingers to my madly thrashing pulse like I was just doing to him. It feels like truest form of silent support.

“I figured out that it was Raven who broke the window and let you into my parents’ house to rescue me. He was the one threatening my dad. It’s why you were so sick after, when you pushed your way back in. What I need you both to promise is that you won’t hurt my dad or anyone else for me. I couldn’t live with that. I have you to thank for my rescue and my freedom, but please don’t manhandle him again. He could cause trouble for you, he has influence, he could turn the community against your club. He could call the cops and charge you with bodily injury. In his way of thinking, persecuting you would only be right because you’re a godless heathen who has lost his path, along with the rest of the club.”

I’m practically strangling the shit out of the steering wheel one handed. I ease up, clutching Crow’s hand harder instead.

“He’s going to make you a target and the main villain in an argument where I was corrupted and stolen from him.” I shiver, acid climbing up my throat at this man, who has been nothing but good to me to the point of what most people would call irrational, coming to harm because of me. “You can’t listen to him, you can’t rise to it, and you can’t believe any of it. I don’t want you to engage with him at all.”

Crow goes stone still. Even his hand in mine feels wooden and cold. The dark is like a tunnel that I’m splitting with my lights. Grainy. Closing in. My throat gets even tighter, but I have to keep going, even though I know how little Crow wants to hear this.

“I want you both to avoid him. I need to fight this battle myself, and I can’t have you get hurt. Physically, mentally, or emotionally.” I implore him pleadingly before I have to turn my face back to the road. “Crow. Raven. I need your word.”

It doesn’t come.

The silence in the car is absolute. Nothing but the hum of tires on pavement. Either it was well built, or it’s not windy outside. I don’t hear the rush of it screaming at the doors or pulling at the windows, roaring over the cab.

“Pull over.”

Crow’s leaden voice pierces the silence, increasing the tension that’s now as thick as soupy fog in here.

A few minutes ago, I thought it was too dangerous just to yank the car over to the shoulder, but I do it now. I ease off the gas, signal, and edge over, slowing down hard when I reach the shoulder. At least it’s wide and flat, without a sharp drop off into the ditch. I pull over as far as I can and hit the hazard lights. They flash like flickering flames around us, lighting up the night for so far that anyone coming will certainly see them and veer to the other lane.

Crow ejects himself out of the car so fast that by the time I get my seatbelt off and my door open, he’s already pacing the grass.

The dry, blanketing heat of the desert is gone. The peaceful summer night is broken only by the whirr and whine of insects near us and in the distance. They dance in front of the car’s lights, fluttering and careening madly.

I want to go to this man and wrap my arms around him, but how can I? He’s agitated, a rapid madness to his pacing, his long, muscular limbs jerky with anger.

I stand by the car, leaning the small of my back against the passenger door, arms crossed over my chest.

He turns on me, eyes glowing like a wild animal’s in the dark. He hasn’t shaved since we left. With that line of stitches on the side of his jaw, it would be impossible to get over there and he’d end up with a lopsided face. The dark scruff only makes him look more fearsome. Even with his features twisted up in agony, he’s still unreasonably beautiful.

“Tarynn,” he groans, fisting his hands in his hair. “You’re my wife. You’re a good woman. Do you think I can just stand by and let anyone insults you? If someone tries it, I’ll cut out their tongue.”

“Jesus Christ! You’re not going to do that!” I make a rapid slash with my hand to punctate that statement. Blasphemy seems to come easier and easier with every passing day. I try not to glory in it. It feels a lot like freedom, but there should be limits.

He glowers at me, but eventually his face softens. “Sorry. That was extreme.”

“I’d say. I might be your wife, but we don’t even know what that means or where we’re going with that. If I’m old enough to stand on my own two feet, I’m old enough to look after myself. Promise me that you won’t lose your head over something that in the end, doesn’t mean anything at all.”

His lips form into a lopsided smile and I take my first full breath since I pulled over. “In just a few days, you already know me better than anyone else in my life.”

My face heats up to surface of the sun temperatures. He knows me better too. Maybe even better than I know myself. Physically, he’s touched parts of my body that I haven’t even ventured to explore.

Something that’s nearly giddy bubbles up inside of me. I hold out my hand. He takes it, drawing me in against him. His body mashes against mine, He’s half hard in his jeans already. My hands glide up his arms. I bury one in his hair. The base of his neck is damp underneath. He catches his breath, the sharp inhale making me want to draw closer to him. To be closer in every way, but we’re literally on the side of the road.

He bends his head, brushing his nose against mine. “I promise,” he growls.

His lips slant over mine, kissing me hard, feverish. He kisses me, his hands bracketing my face like he doesn’t want to let me go. Maybe he’s worried about going home too. He pulls back far before I’m ready.

“Hold on.” His hoarse tone wraps around me, sending shivers of want straight between my legs.

He drags in an inhale and then another, closing his eyes. His hands cling to my shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. I hold him in return, grasping tightly to his black t-shirt.

When his eyes flicker open, the pupils are large and bright. They’re his eyes, but not his at all. They sweep along the road, tracing our surroundings furtively before coming to rest on me. His smile spreads slowly, like thick black paint spilling over a pristine canvas.

“Raven?”

He blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to clear his vision. “Beats the fuck out of me too. This is the first time that he’s ever let me out willingly. Just handed it over like those assholes in baton races.”

“Assholes? I think you mean athletes.”

He smirks. “Whatever. Either way, I mean this.”

He tilts my face up and crushes his mouth to mine. He kisses me like I’m that race and he’s passing every fucking baton, going for broke, going to win. I know these lips, but when he kisses me, it feels different. He moves his tongue differently, tilts my face to part my lips, so that I can take him deep int my mouth. His hands roam my body, strong and talented. He’s not afraid to suck my bottom lip into his mouth, to scrape it with his teeth in a way that causes a sexy as hell blossom of pain and pleasure to burst all over me like a fireworks display in the night sky.

He doesn’t pull back until he’s good and ready, his lips swollen and wet from kissing me, his whole face dancing with mischief.

“I promise too,” he mutters darkly, and then rolls his eyes at the car. “Let’s get back in this cage before someone comes along and smokes us. It’s not safe out here to have a breakdown.”

“Raven…’ I hedge.

He holds both his palms up and shoots me a look that screams sincerity, but somehow also is full of devious trouble all around the edges. “I promise, Tarynn. Truly. You’ll have no trouble from me. I won’t make good on any of the ways I’d like to dismantle your father and Frankenstein him back together. Cross my heart and hope to… well…not die, because that wouldn’t be fair to Crow. We’re trying to get along now, I guess.”

I don’t move and he grasps my shoulders lightly with those huge, rough palms. He smooths them down my arms, which of course causes an immediate volley of sensual goosebumps.

“Everything will be okay. It’s overwhelming, but just breathe. Day by day, or whatever nonsense people say.” That clearly doesn’t make me feel better, even though he’s grinning. Now that I know that Raven exists, it’s so easy for me to spot the thousand ways this person isn’t Crow. That big shit eating grin is a dead ringer. “I’m not going anywhere and nothing bad will happen. I refuse to let it. That’s my promise.”

He’s so earnest, his eyes twinkling with light that comes straight from within.

It’s impossible not to get drawn into him, not to respond to his eager, boyish smile and enthusiasm. I can do nothing but believe him.