How wet and ready she was when his fingers dipped into her. She had finally opened completely for him and that was the sweetest part of all. Jesus. He couldn’t stop thinking about her perfect ass, her big wide eyes, her…
The horn of an eighteen wheeler rig blared long and loud and split through the air as it swerved furiously past Crow and threw him out of his reverie. Crow looked to his left to see the driver give him the finger just before the truck swerved again into the next lane to avoid hitting the guard rail.
Fucker wouldn’t have flipped that goddamn bird if I had been wearing my cut. The thought made Crow clamp down on his back teeth. He pulled his bandana over his face to shield his mouth from the dust the semi kicked up. Nothing worse than getting road dirt ground into your teeth and down your damn throat. Crow thought about racing the sonofabitch down, pulling him out of that goddamn truck and beating him bloody just to shed some of the excess testosterone raging through his system.
He looked at the license plate of the retreating rig and thought about placing one phone call just to make the driver’s life miserable. Lucky for the fucker, getting pissed off just seemed like too much of an effort right now. So instead of putting a call into his brothers to register the plate for a later beatdown, Crow pulled the bike over, stood beside it and lit up a smoke.
Because really, he was in a good fucking mood.
The way he saw it, this thing with Melissa could go a few ways and all of those ways involved burying himself deep inside of her.
No question.
Crow wanted more of her. He wanted to hear his name breathed through those pink lips of hers, he wanted to feel her small body writhe beneath him, he wanted to bury his fingers in her hair and stretch her out wet and wide. He wanted to lay her down, open her up and feed on her.
Yeah, the big bad cat wanted to corner the little mouse and play with her for a while.
A small voice of reason slipped into the thoughts of all the ways Crow wanted to play with the little widow next door—Melissa was not something to be toyed with.
Just then his cell rang.
“Where are you?” Jury snarled.
“Fuck,” Crow muttered. He had forgotten about the meet.
“Fuck? Hey, asshole, I’m gonna save your life right now by assuming that you did not recognize my goddamn voice before you led with that,” Jury snarled louder.
“Yeah. Apologies, man.” Crow grimaced, straightened up and stomped out his smoke.
“Prosper said you still had his proxy. Your president’s been calling you since noon. Might be a good idea to pick up your goddamn phone once in a while. I got three boys heading to your house right now to make sure you ain’t lying in a pool of your own blood. You want to keep that patch, you touch base.”
Then Jury hung up.
Crow looked at his cell then…five goddamn missed calls in the last couple of hours from the clubhouse.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Prosper picked up on the first ring.
“You better be calling from a goddamn hospital.” Prosper waited maybe a half a second. “No? Love to fucking hear what was so important you couldn’t answer your phone all fucking day. But lucky for you I don’t actually give a damn. You just make sure that you get your ass over to Fallsview tonight. To-fucking-night, you hear me? I want to make it clear to Jury that Crownsmount's got a stake in the shit happening there. You get back to me the minute that vote goes down. Not in a goddamn mood for an all-out, I’ll tell you that. I need Jules here, so you’re on your own. You got that? You make it clear to the table that when shit comes down Crownsmount falls on the side of the Aces. Wouldn’t hurt to remind them of our recent troubles with the Colombians. You understand what I am telling you?” Prosper ranted.
“Yeah. Yeah. No worries, boss. I’m on my way now,” Crow said.
“I’d be there myself, but Raine…” Prosper’s voice trailed off.
“Raine what?” Crow felt a sense of dread coming on him.
Silence.
“Raine fucking what, boss?” Crow snarled into the phone.
“Jesus. Don’t scare the boy.” Crow heard Pinky’s exasperated voice.
“Hi sweetheart.” She had taken the phone away from her husband.
“Don’t bullshit me, Pinky,” Crow ground out.
“Watch the way you talk to the woman who raised you, you ungrateful sonofa…” Prosper voice threatened him from the background.
“Oh hush, Prosper.” Pinky sounded tired. “Raine’s okay, honey. She is. She's in the hospital and they are monitoring her carefully…”
Crow managed one word. “Jules.”
“Yeah, honey. Call him. With his medical training he can explain everything to you better than I can,” Pinky suggested gently.
Crow almost crushed the phone in his hand before hitting the send button.
“Motherfucker,” Crow said when Jules picked up.
“So I’m guessing by that happy hello you heard about Raine and the baby?” Jules asked.
“Yeah, I fucking heard it, but only after getting my ass chewed out about the damn proxy vote. What I want to know is why I didn’t hear it from you?” Crow snapped.
“Really, this shit again from you? You gonna make me ask again? You her man? Father of that baby? Or just some sonofabitch who got it all wrong? Because, Brother or not, you know that’s the way Diego sees the thing between you and his woman. I know she’s the reason you left, man, and I get it. But I’m telling you that you got no place here in this right now. So if you get it in your head to venture on up here, take a minute to think. In the state that D’s in, you showing up here now would do nobody any good, Brother. You got something started there. You fucking stay there until it’s finished this time.” Jules paused and drew deep on whatever he was smoking.
“Just tell me,” Crow managed.
“Preeclampsia,” Jules said. Then he went on to explain to Crow what that meant for Raine and her baby.
“D?” Crow asked.
“Like I said, he’s a fucking mess. Reno and Claire have Willow most of the time. D won’t leave Raine’s side. She snuck the phone away from him yesterday while he was passed out in a chair and sent out an all-call to the club begging someone to drag his ass home for a hot meal and a shower. I could be wrong, but I think him hovering like that is making it that much worse for her. But no one dares to say shit to him. Not even Prosper. Claire tried to reason with him, but he went off on her and made her cry. Reno went at him right in the goddamn hospital and Riker had to pull them apart. If Raine had heard him yell at her sister, you know she’d have jumped in too. Trust me, Brother. You do not want to be here,” Jules said.
Crow lit up another smoke and drew deep. If Raine was feeling well enough to complain, then she was probably doing okay. He breathed a sigh of relief. When it came down to it, Crow knew Jules was right. Him being there could only make matters worse. Sounded like a goddamn circus.
“Yeah. I hear ya. But you let me know if anything comes up you need me for,” Crow said.
“No question, Brother. I’m not in the business of keeping shit from you, you know that. Hey, I was gonna call and ask you something anyway. You sticking around there for a while after the Fallsview thing? If Raine’s symptoms don’t ease up, they are talking about taking the baby early and I want to be around for that. But after it’s all good, I was thinkin’ ‘bout putting my ass on the bike and headin’ up your way. Figure I’d help out with the house. You good with that?” Jules asked.
What the fuck was this about?
“Yeah, Brother, I’m good with that. Be good to see you. You sure I don’t need to be there?” Crow answered.
“Already asked and answered. Anything comes up I think you need to be here for, I’ll call.” Then Jules hung up.
Crow revved up the bike and headed towards the Fallsview clubhouse. As he drove along Crow thought about Raine and Diego. He hated to think of her sitting in that hospital sick and scared. Crow’s first instinct was to go to
her and protect her from the worry that seeing Diego crazed must be causing her.
But Crow also knew that Jules was right.
Just like Prosper had been right.
Raine wasn’t his woman. She belonged to his brother. And after all the bullshit had been settled between the two of them anybody could see how good Raine and Diego were together. Yeah, no question about it, Diego Montesalto had his faults, but who the hell didn’t? And Crow had to admit that when it came down to what mattered, Diego was all about Raine and his kids—their daughter, Willow and the child that Raine carried inside of her now meant everything to Diego.
Time and distance had given Crow a much needed new perspective. He recognized now that he just didn't feel the same way about things anymore. And he knew that it was a good thing. A damn good thing. Because with that new perspective came a kind of freedom—and a measure of peace and contentment that he had never thought was possible.
Feeling strangely relieved, Crow pulled into the next rest stop, took a piss, bought a pack of smokes and filled up the bike. While he was settling up at the cash register, Crow noticed a kid's toy tool belt kit for sale in a cardboard display next to the counter. The set contained a child-sized hammer, a screwdriver and some other stuff actually made of metal and not that cheap plastic shit. Crow thought of Jett and threw one on the counter. The kid would like it. Maybe they could do another little project together.
Thinking of Jett made Crow think of Melissa again and that made him grin. So before he headed out from the rest stop, he sent a text to her cell saying that he'd be gone for a few days and for her to reach out if she needed anything.
Then Crow got back on the bike and rode on to Fallsview, hoping to hell that Melissa would be needing something.
Chapter 18
Crow sat at the table and looked around the smoke-filled room. Tense silence split the air and he was getting a motherfucker of a headache. They had been at this for hours. Hells Saints delegates from all over the East Coast sat around the table discussing the quick rise of the Aces and the way they were moving in on the Colombian territory. Most important was the ensuing impact the Aces expansion was going to have on the Saints.
Beast, the president from the Keys, had been talking for the last fifteen minutes.
“A preemptive strike is what I'm talking about. Up to this point, we've all assumed that the Aces were nothing but a pissant club. And now we find out they’ve been growing in numbers right under our damn noses. How the fuck did that happen? We should have shut them down at two chapters. Now they’re talking about going national? Spells trouble down the line.”
Nods around the table.
Derringer, who had been quiet up to this point suddenly leaned in and looked each of his brothers in the eye one at a time. He represented Miami, was one of the original members and, aside from Prosper, was the longest standing president in the MC. Unlike most of the brothers, Derringer stood only about five-foot-six. A series of prayers written in Vietnamese tattooed on his shaved skull extended down the back of his neck and wrapped around his throat.
Crow had always considered Derringer a scary motherfucker. And although he had never seen him riding anything but calm, Crow had heard that Derringer had been a very effective army interrogation specialist back in the day. No one questioned that. When Derringer spoke everyone listened.
“As you already fucking know I’ve had some of my boys watching this…ah… situation …for a while and the way I see it is that the Aces are keeping it real with the Colombians by making their presence known. The truth is my boys got better things to do—right now, the Colombian and Mexican gangs are at each other's throats fighting for the blow territory. So far, it's been manageable, but I have to tell you it's only a matter of time before we're going to have to step in. The Aces have been all about the respect from what I can see—coming to us in peace to discuss how their play affects ours. They want to step up and open a charter that borders my boys. I'm good with that. They get out of hand, we can deal with them once the body count is settled.”
Jury gave the brothers a minute to think about what Derringer had said before he added his own thoughts to the table.
“Right now the Mexicans and Colombians are at war. That’s good. Real good. Could be they take care of this by offing each other. But if the stupid fucks decide to get smart and form an alliance, we’re gonna have a problem on our hands. Letting the Aces open in Miami under Derringer’s watch is something we might want to consider.”
“I don’t fucking like it. Other clubs banging at my door,” Beast weighed in.
“Not sure you got a dog in this hunt, Brother,” Derringer responded. “No one’s been banging at your door for years. The Keys have been untouchable up until now with the alliances we got down there. But it’s just a matter of time before someone comes knocking on your door. On all our doors. Today we have to decide as a club who we gonna let in. Like I said, by the way I see it the Aces are our best bet. For now. Let them fight their own damn turf war. When it’s over, they become a problem? We deal with that then. ”
“That incident in Pine Key…” Beast clenched and unclenched his fist.
“Was a million goddamn years ago. And you’ve been sitting pretty ever since.” Jury finished for him.
Then, with one sweeping look, Jury took in the men around him. “As you all know, Prosper’s been dealing with some family issues. Sent his man Crow here to be his mouthpiece.” Jury turned to Crow. “You want to give us where the boss lands on this one?”
Hard men with hard eyes leaned forward. Crow met each gaze with his own harder one.
“You all know about the kidnapping that happened a couple of years ago. Los Rojos swore they had nothing to do with it and Lucius gave us what he could to find his nephew Manny, the asshole who was responsible for the mayhem against Prosper’s daughters. But that level of cooperation only came after Prosper had a pair of nines pointed at Lucius’s family. And the info he gave us really didn’t amount to jack.”
“Should have taken the fucker out then,” someone muttered. Assent flowed through the crowd at the table.
Crow gave them a minute to let them have their say and took the opportunity to light up a smoke before he continued.
“Then not too long after that, goddamn Colombians were at it a-fucking-gain. Again a member of Lucius’s goddamn family. That crazy snatch, Luisa Sievas, never would have come after Reno if Lucius had been minding the store like he gave his word that he would be. The bitch and two of her men jacked Prosper’s nephew and his sister-in-law at the cemetery. At the goddamn cemetery. And no surprise Lucius swears the bitch was acting on her own. But this time we had to take the fuckers out. As you all know, we dissolved their club. What was left of Los Rojos got absorbed into Los Olcas. They’ve been quiet. For now. But that could just mean they are settling in. I’m here to tell you that my boss doesn’t trust them. Crownsmount has been keeping an eye on them for a while. We got both groups bordering us, so things are gonna be tricky either way. What happens today affects Crownsmount, no question. The Aces have had our backs twice now. Prosper would like to return the favor.” Crow leaned back and looked each man in the eye.
“Worst of two fucking evils to choose from.” Beast shook his head.
“Yeah, but one of the goddamn evils went after Prosper’s blood. That shit don’t sit with me.” Jury laid a hard hand on the table.
“There is that,” someone mumbled.
“And they jumped Reno at his father’s grave site,” Crow reminded them. “Agreed neutral territory. Colombians don’t respect hallowed fucking ground, they don’t respect anything. That move right there should be enough reason to back the Aces.”
A few more of the chapter presidents were heard from. Then it was put to a vote. Crow stepped out and notified Prosper that the vote fell on the side of the Aces. Beast was the last holdout, but the reminder about the kidnapping and cemetery jump sealed his vote. Prosper knew what he was doing when he told Crow to thr
ow that out on the table.
The boss might be getting old, but he was still a smart motherfucker.
Chapter 19
“…And the teacher said that we could hand out the invitations to the class in school since my birthday’s in the summer. So mom and I are going to write them out tonight.” Jett loved to Skype with his grandfather. “Mom, will you get the invitations so I can show them to Nonno?”
Melissa stopped chopping the vegetables for dinner and went to stand behind her son at the kitchen table.
“Hey, Dad.” She blew a kiss to the screen as she handed Jett the package of birthday party invitations.
“Ciao, carina,” Bruno Pignatelli called out to his daughter. “That better be Italian you’re cooking up for my grandson.”
“Fresh tomato, basil and mozzarella salad. Italian enough for you?” She smiled at the screen. “Enjoy the chat with your grandson. I have to go cook up some sausage.”
Melissa smiled at the constant stream of chatter coming from her little boy, warmed as always by her father’s infinitely patient responses.
“…And I’m going to invite Michael, and Sawyer, and Rosie and Crow…and…”
Melissa stepped back as the grease splattered at her from the metal spatula she had just dropped in the oiled pan.
“Crow? What kind of name is that for a boy? Does he have a brother named Parrot? A sister named Parakeet?” Bruno was teasing his grandson.
Jett let out a loud laugh. “No. He doesn’t! And he’s not a boy. He’s a man. A big one.”
“Uh-uh,” Bruno answered. “Tell me more about this friend of yours.”
Melissa heard the subtle change in her father’s tone from across the room.
“He has as a motorcycle, and a van and a lot of tattoos. And tools. Lots and lots of tools. He is fixing up stuff around here.” Jett’s voice rang out excitedly.
“Sounds like a busy man. Where’s your mother?”
Uh oh.
Melissa wiped her hands on the kitchen towel then and stepped into Bruno’s line of vision.
Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) Page 11
