Page 7 of Darling Psycho

Chuckling, Rider moved inside and closed the door behind him. Once in the living room, he shook the baggie. “Brought you some breakfast burritos.”

Lawless’ stomach gurgled, the Prez followed him into the kitchen, where he found a plate. “You want coffee?”

“Sure. Can’t stay long. Zara’s been in the city overnight, and she’s coming home in a few hours.”

“You let the little queen out of your sight?”

Rider half-grinned, accepting the cup of hot coffee Lawless slid across the middle island. “Pretty-Boy is with her as always. She wanted to see some musical shit, and I compromised by tapping Pretty in, and I stayed home with the kids.”

“You’re all heart, Prez. You three are like a platonic poly.”

Amused, Rider sipped. Lawless didn’t say it to rile the man. Even he wasn’t that sadistic to toy with the boss. Plus, Rider was a friend and wouldn’t rise to Lawless’ jibes.

“He’s been a good fit for her bodyguard. Zara treats him like a little brother, bosses him around too. PB goes apeshit if she tries to go places without him.”

“Remember the day he came to the club looking for a place to belong? I said he had white knight all over his pretty face.”

“You were the one who called him Pretty-Boy, and it stuck; poor fuckin’ kid never lived it down since. Did your boyfriend tell you PB is gonna take an old lady?”

“Snake tells me every-fucking-thing, Ri, even when I don’t want to know.”

The pair chuckled, and Lawless got stuck into the cheesy bacon burritos. Knowing for the first few weeks, every piece of food would taste like nectar compared to prison grub. There was a time in his life he would have eaten cardboard to stay alive. But his palette had high standards these days, but the burritos weren’t bad, and he finished both in record time.

“I wanted to make sure things were good with you,” Rider started. He wasn’t a man who hid his thoughts, and Lawless read him easily. “Shit didn’t go south inside, did it? We wanted to get you out two years ago, and you insisted...”

“I was fine, Rider. But circumstances changed, so I decided not to do the last six months. I think Archie might want hazardous pay for the strings he had to pull.”

“We pay that crooked asshole enough, but he did good getting your release sorted in less than a week.” And then. “You gonna tell me why the cloak and dagger and why you don’t want anyone to know you’re home yet?”

Shrewd and insightful, as always. Lawless, with a straight face, leaned against the kitchen island with his hands braced behind him.

“Tell me something first, Prez. Why you didn’t tell me Angela was working for Benz.”

It showed their long-standing brotherhood that Rider didn’t even flicker a hint of guilt. His word in the MC was law. Rider didn’t answer to anyone, but he’d always played fair to those around the church table. It was never a dictatorship. They took votes; they weighed in on decisions that might bring trouble.

“I decided not to.” Rider’s simple, no-frills answer, holding Lawless’ stare.

Fair enough, he supposed.

Rider wanted someone on the inside to spy on Benz. It would be something Lawless suggested too.

He wasn’t angry.

The blanket of dark spiders around his neck and shoulders itched, and he ran a hand around his throat at the phantom reminder of a time when he was weakest.

He was far from that boy, so he didn’t need to spew a tantrum that he’d been left out of the loop.

Lawless wasn’t angry.

Not so much.

But then, any psycho could pretend he knew emotions like a good, dancing puppet.

“I’ve kept her alive for six and a half years, and you thought it was a good idea to send her into the lion’s den to be eaten up.” It wasn’t a question.

“Law...” Rider started.

“I know you’re not at fault, Rider. You capitalized on a fucked-up situation the hothead probably walked herself into. But it started a chain of events I now have to fucking unravel. I didn’t plan for this. Do you know how fucking irritating that is? Me, who plans everything, and that motherfucker came to me and laid out his fat, juicy secrets like an all-you-can-eat buffet.”