by A. Lynn
He looks at me for confirmation. "She's is?"
“Yeah, little man, she is.”
He shrugs, “Otay, den. Comes on Wea, wets bwow dis popysicy stand. Wace, Cwow? You’s and me’s. I’s fast, wight Wea?”
“Yeah, baby, you’re fast.”
“I’m down. Count down, little man,” I say as I step up beside him on the sidewalk.
“Weady?” I nod. “Otay, SIX...ONE….EWEVEN! GO!” And he sprints his little ass all the way to the next house before I even realize he’s gone. Little cheater. And now he is touching Reagan's car. Yeah, that's how I lost a race to a three-year-old. Wasn't even trying to either.
Reagan’s ass is laughing so hard I don’t know how she is still standing. I love that sound. I could hear it every day for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t be long enough. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and slam my lips down on hers, silencing her instantly.
I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers. "I love you, baby. So much."
Her hooded eyes soften and she wraps her arms around my waist. "I love you, Kane."
“I wish we didn’t have to leave, I want to be inside you so fucking bad right now,” I say and rub my hard as fuck cock into her belly.
She gasps then giggles, “Behave.”
“I don’t want to,” I say and I kiss her again.
“Ew, Cwow! Dats gwoss,” he says making a gagging sound.
“Sorry, little man." I laugh. "You ready?"
“I’s stawbin’!”
After she gets Jordan strapped into his car seat, I ask, "Will you drop me at Fallen? I need to get my bike."
“Yeah.”
Thirty minutes later, with a talkative little man in one arm and Rea in the other, I strut my lucky ass up to my parents' door to ring the bell.
“Is this where you grew up?”
“Yeah.”
“Seems peaceful.”
“Not so much when we were kids, but now it is.”
“Hellions, were you?”
“Damn straight they were,” I hear as the door opens.
“Aw, Pop, we weren’t that bad.”
“Don’t go telling lies now,” he chides and then looks at Reagan. “And you must be Reagan. I’m Colt, this one’s Pop.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Colt, please.”
She nods with a smile, “Colt.”
“And who is this handsome little man?”
“I’s Jowdan. You’s Cwow’s daddy?”
“That I am.”
“I’s don’t gots one,” he says, gutting me.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Jordan, but at least you have a great mommy right here.”
Jordan cranes his head around with a fearful look, making my teeth clench hard enough to snap.
“My’s Moma not hewe, onwy Wea.”
Pop looks at me and I give a barely noticeable shake of my head.
Ma comes around the corner. “Ok, who's ready to eat? How about you, Jordan, I made you some pancakes."
“Yay! Panpakes!”
Ma leans forward and not so quietly whispers to him, “I even put chocolate chips in them,” pulls back to look around before saying, “Shhhhh!” He giggles and gives her an exaggerated “wink” that was really a double wink. Yeah, he blinked at her.
When she reaches a hand to him, he takes it and says, "Down Cwow." And then the two take off towards the kitchen.
"J, baby, go wash your hands. Please," Reagan calls out.
“Otay, Wea!”
“He’s cute,” Pop tells Reagan.
“Thank you."
“He doesn’t call you Moma?”
“Pop! Rude much?”
Reagan pats my chest and says, "We've never told him. I didn't want to take that away from Ryan."
“From what I have heard, that's very admirable of you but unwarranted."
“You’re right, it is, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But I have recently been thinking over that decision.” A tear slips down her cheek when she continues, “That daddy comment? I didn’t know he even thought about that stuff. He’s three.”
“It will be okay, baby. I told you I’m not going anywhere,” I say.
“I know, but a boyfriend or whatever for me doesn’t mean a daddy for him. I don’t even know who his father is, Ryan would never say.”
“It could. You're a package deal, remember? I would never slight him." I pull her into my arms and hold her tight while she lets a few tears fall.
It isn’t until little man comes running back out that I let her go.
“Come’s on, Wea.”
"I'm coming. You going to sit by me, J?"
“No, I’s sits by Nana.”
Reagan's head jerks back. "Who, baby?"
“Nana,” he repeats, pointing at Ma. Who is giving little man the most adoring smile I have ever seen. “You’s too, Pop,” pointing at the open chair on his other side.
“Now that is an offer I can’t refuse,” Pop says with a smile on his face.
“Okay guys, let's eat." Looking at little man, Ma says, “How many pancakes would you like, Nieto?
“I’s not, Nieto, I's Jowdan."
Ma smiles adoringly. "Nieto means grandson in Spanish.”
“What’s dat?”
Ma opens her mouth to answer but Reagan beats her to it. "Spanish is the special words that Dora and Diego teach you. Do you remember? Uno, dos, tres?” He nods. “That is Spanish.”
“Otay, Nana,” he pauses, “Nieto wants two.”
“Okay,” Ma says.
My burner vibrates in my pocket at the same time I hear Pop’s going off.
Gunner: Church 11:00
“I hate to cut this short, Ma, but we got Church in an hour.”
“So go, I can hang out with Reagan and Jordan by myself,” she replies.
“I don't have time to hangout today. Sorry, Stella."
“Oh? What do you have going on?”
“With everything that is going on with R-Y-A-N and what went down yesterday, I’m sending Jordan and his MiMi to California tomorrow. I think it will be better for him to not be here.”
“I think you might be right about that.” She looks at little man and says, “We will just get together when you’re home.”
“Otay, Nana." He smiles and finishes his pancakes.
“Alright guys, let's get started," Gunner says as he smacks the gavel on the table.
"Crow and I discussed who he wants to be on these protection runs and I think we came up with optimal teams. Team one will consist of Crow, Rhys, Jagger, Unit, Capone, Easy, and Cash. Team two will consist of Mase, Smooth, Deck, Hebob, Ghost, Rider, and Pyro."
“Prez,” Ghost starts but is silenced when Gun raises his hand.
“I know what you're going to say, Ghost. I know you and Easy work best together, but I put you on different teams for a reason and I will not change it. The same goes for Crow and Deck. Just roll with it, man."
Ghost doesn’t look happy about it—shit neither does Easy—but they shouldn’t be on the same team in case this goes sideways.
“Now, Crow, are you ready for this tomorrow night?”
“I am. Rhys, you good?”
“I’m good,” Rhys answers.
Gun nods and says, “Good. The pick-up is scheduled for midnight, so you should probably head out around one or so."
“I have to take Reagan’s son and his grandmother to the airport by 10:15, so it should be good.”
The bastard smiles and asks, "Who's Reagan?"
“His girl,” Tex answers.
“When did you get a girl?”
“Met her a month or so ago,” I shrug.
Axle asks, “You claiming her?”
“Sure as fuck am,” I declare.
Slaps on the table sound around the room.
“Hot damn,” comes from Rhys.
“Cleo is going to be pissed,” comes from Dec.
“Couldn’t give a sing
le fuck if I tried,” I reply.
“I expect you to bring her around soon,” Gun says.
“Your mother was wanting to have a barbecue next Sunday,” Trigger offers up.
“Sounds good. Now let’s get back to the meeting, ladies,” Gun says. “Dad, did you talk to Matteo?”
“I did. He said that there have been abductions across the United States that are offering little to no resolution, not just in our area."
Confused, I ask, “What kind of resolution?”
“By way of dead bodies. Not one living person returned or thwarted.” Trigger shakes his head and continues, “Although he did say that most of the faces that are gracing the news are showing up at another venue. Skin auctions.”
“We figured as much, though,” Axle says. “Does he know anything more about who is behind the abductions or auctions?"
“The only thing he said that we didn't already know was that the Ripper's are the point of contact for the cartel in Arizona, Southern California, New Mexico, and Nevada."
“I wonder what the link between the two is," Pop muses.
“It looks like Julio Guerrero is Ace’s Godfather,” Einstein supplies.
“How did that happen? I wouldn’t think they run in the same circles,” Axle says.
"Ace? No. Ace's birth father—Mario Ruiz—grew up with Julio and Alejandro Guerrero. Ruiz infiltrated the United States when he married Patty Greenwell from Sierra Blanca. They quickly had a son, one Travis Ruiz."
"You're joking," Gunner says.
Einstein shakes his head. "I wish I was."
"Why is Ace the point man and not his father?" Trigger asks.
"Because when Ace was seven, Ruiz killed his wife and went to prison, he died ten or so years ago. Travis was adopted by the Leake's soon after his father got sent up. The best that I can tell, Guerrero kept tabs on him until he was old enough to be of use."
“Thanks, Einstein,” Gunner says and then runs his hands through his hair. “Colt? Did you get with Arroyo?”
“I did but he said much of the same as Einstein and Matteo. He did break down the Guerrero Cartel ranks for us though. The Family deals with drugs and skins, but they have essentially broken it off into two subfamilies. They still operate together but one side does not interfere with the other. On the one side, they have the Skin Ring that is headed up by Alejandro Guerrero, with his second being his son, Javier. They have no criteria for their trade. They will take any age, color, or gender. If there is money to be made off of someone, they will capitalize on it, no matter the outcome of the person being sold.
The drug trafficking operation is headed up by Julio Guerrero, with his second being his son, Miguel. They are all pretty ruthless, but according to Tomas, Miguel is in a class of his own. When he feels the family has been slighted in any way, he attacks, no holds barred. According to Tomas, the little bastard is enlisting torture methods that would make a Nazi concentration camp look like a day at Disney."
“How is it possible that nobody is trying to put a stop to this shit? They need to be put to ground,” Gunner growls.
“Tomas seems to think they have some high-ranking ABC boys in their pockets."
“Matteo said the same thing."
“That would explain why there wasn’t a shit ton of stuff to be found on them,” Einstein says.
“Fuck… I guess our next step will be to talk to the Ripper’s,” Gun states. “Alright, that’s all for now, enjoy the rest of your Sunday.”
As I stand from the table I pull my phone from my pocket and text Reagan.
Me: I’m going to get some work done on the gas tank. I’ll be home later.
My Baby: Ok. Have fun.
Me: I’m going to try.
“Crow,” Tex calls.
“Yeah?”
“We’re going to get some food. You down?”
“Not this time, I want to get some work down on the gas tank for Ashley.”
He nods. “Find me before you leave, we’ll have a drink.”
“You got it,” I say as I walk out the door and head to the shop.
My Baby: Love you.
Me: Love you, baby.
I'm smiling as I put my phone in my pocket, but it drops as I walk into the shop and see Cleo sitting on my workstation.
“You need something, Cleo?”
“I was wondering if we could talk for a minute?”
“What do you need? I've got shit to do."
A tear slips down her cheek and I feel bad. She’s not a bad person or anything, but I’m not sure what we have to talk about. I sigh and say, “I will give you ten minutes to say whatever it is you came in here to say, but then you got to go.”
“Why her, Crow? We work together. Couldn't you pick someone I wouldn't have to see every day?"
“I didn’t pick her, Cleo. I just don’t see anyone else.”
“How long? How long have you known it was her?”
“A little over a month.”
“You don’t think you’re being hasty? You’ve had your dick in my mouth since then.”
“Once, Cleo. And I was thinking about her the whole time.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?”
“Why couldn’t you pick me? I love you, Crow. I have always loved you,” she cries.
“You love me?”
“Yes.”
"How does fucking all my brothers factor into that?"
She looks away. "That's what I was supposed to do. And it's not like you asked me not to."
I laugh. "I should have asked, huh? That’s how I know you don’t love me. Reagan loves me and I wouldn’t have had to ask her. But why would I ask that of you? You were just a warm hole to fuck. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else.”
“Why are you being so mean, Crow?”
“Why are you acting like we were together? I told you so many times not to make it more than it was. I never would have chosen you." I shrug.
“Why? Am I not good enough? I was okay to fuck, but not love, right?”
“I wouldn't ever choose someone who has been run through by my brothers. It has nothing to do with being good enough, Cleo. Even if I claimed you, the second I saw Reagan, you and I would've been over.”
“No,” she denies.
“Yes. I love her. I'm pretty sure I have since I first laid eyes on her."
“What? No, you were supposed to be with me!"
“I’m right where I am supposed to be. I'm sorry if that isn’t what you wanted, but it won’t change.”
“Please, Crow…”
“I’m sorry, Cleo, but it’s done. No going back now.”
“Ok, Crow. If that’s what you really want.”
“It is,” I insist.
“Okay, I'll back off.”
“Thank you.”
“Hopefully we can still be friends. Can I get a hug?”
I’m not sure we were ever friends, but whatever makes her leave. “I don't think that is a good idea."
“What?” she asks innocently. “Friends hug?”
“Fine,” I say and open my arms. She jumps up and wraps her arms and legs around me tightly. I knew this was a bad idea.
She pulls her head back and slams her lips on mine. Before I have a chance to push her away, She jumps down with a smile on her face and says, “Thanks, baby.”
I decided to forgo working on the tank and go get myself a stiff drink.
Chapter 9
Reagan
He didn’t come home.
I pull into the salon parking lot and try to call Crow for the fourth time this morning. But it does the same thing this time that it did every other time this morning; it goes straight to voicemail. I pull my phone from my ear to hang up and check to see if he texted me back from last night?
Me: You getting the gas tank finished? Don’t make her ugly! Lol
Me: J and I are going to order a pizza and watch a movie, want to join us?
Me: Well, you mis
sed dinner and a movie. Are you going to make it home for dessert? *bouncing eyebrows*
Me: Honey, you’re worrying me… Please answer, ok?
Me: Crow?
Me: I’m going to bed, I have to work in the morning.
Me: I love you.
Spoiler alert: He didn’t respond to my texts from last night or my calls.
Me: Since you can't answer your phone or be bothered to return my texts, if you aren't at the salon by 10, I will take them myself.
I don't have time to fret about it, I have two wash and cuts before I might have to leave at ten. I am going to need every spare minute of the two hours I have until then, so, I put my phone back in my purse and head into the salon to start my day.
As soon as I walk into reception, I see Lexi and Cleo leaning over the desk towards each other talking, but once they see me, the talking ceases.
“Morning, Reagan,” Lexi says.
“Hey, Lexi,” I say and nod my head in Cleo’s direction. “Has my eight o’clock arrived yet?”
“No, Maria had to cancel this morning, but I fit her in tomorrow and Alex said he couldn’t make it until Saturday.”
I drop my head with a sigh. Perfect.
“You don’t look too good, Reagan,” Cleo says too sugary sweet. “You okay?”
“I’m good. I just didn’t sleep well.”
“Oh, no,” Cleo says with exaggerated concern.
“Stop it, Cleo,” Lexi chastises.
“What? I didn't do anything."
“Quit rubbing it in.”
My head volleys between the two. “Rubbing what in?”
“Nothing,” Lexi rushes at the same time Cleo says, "That Crow was with me last night."
“Okay, Cleo. Whatever you say.”
“You aren't curious whose bed he was in? Because it sure as fuck wasn't yours."
“Damn it, Cleo, leave her alone,” Lexi says. “This isn’t the time or the place. Do you want to lose your job?”
“Stella wouldn’t fire me, not with Crow and I together,” she says with confidence.
The air flies from my chest as if she struck me. "You're lying," I accuse and look to Lexi, but she just has a sad look on her face. "He wouldn't choose you. He loves me."
