When, in exasperation, Charity pushed at the attendant’s chest and struggled to turn off the lever herself, the attendant shoved her out of the way.
Big fucking mistake.
Crow cradled Jett against him as he swiveled his body toward the stupid fucking carnie who was evidently too coked up or drunk or some fucking thing to see what was happening on the damn ride he was responsible for.
And who had dared to put his hands on a woman.
A Hells Saints Woman.
Just then Jury raced past Crow with a roar, leapt over the iron rail, and pushed the lever to stop. After doing a quickscan of the small cars, his eyes settled on his granddaughter, Rosie, as Charity moved towards her. Satisfied that she was fine, Jury turned his attention to the jacked-up, strung out carnie responsible for the ride. Jury’s fist slamming into the attendant’s gut as he raged on and on screaming threats of every imaginable physical torture filled the silence left by the rumble of the bumper cars. It took four guys to get Jury off the man who had shoved his daughter. The air thickened with tension—nobody messed with the Hells Saints families, especially a doper who was working an amusement ride. At least half a dozen brothers had kids in those cars.
Jett whimpered and Crow turned his attention back to the little boy in his arms.
He was bleeding all over Crow’s chest.
Crow cupped the little chin in his big hand and pulled back slightly so he could look into Jett's pupils. A pair of stormy gray eyes wide, terrified and veiled in tears looked back at him.
“I got ya, little warrior. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. I have to put you down now so I can look you over, all right?”
Jett reached out to Crow’s hand and held on tight.
“Go get some ice!” Jules was suddenly beside him and shouting at a prospect.
“Mouths bleed the worst,” Jules muttered under his breath and pushed his way between Crow and the little boy. “I'm gonna look at your mouth, okay, buddy?” Jett shrunk back from the big man, but at Crow’s nod he allowed his swollen lips to be parted by Jules. With great gentleness Jules stuck his little finger in the boy's mouth and checked for loose teeth. He also carefully inspected his gums and tongue. Then he lifted Jett’s eyelids slightly and checked his pupils. The little boy’s chest continued to heave, while fat tears rolled down his face, but he didn't make a sound.
Brave kid.
“He didn't bite his tongue or slash his gums. That cut on his lip looks bad, but it's not all the way through and he's not gonna need stitches. He also doesn't have any loose teeth and didn't hit his head. A little ice on this and he's gonna be fine.” Jules looked at Crow.
“Jesus. You sure?” Crow heard his own voice crack. “He’s okay?”
“Yeah. Where’s his mother?” Jules asked.
“Million dollar damn question.” Crow scanned the area.
“Jett? Jett!” Melissa’s voice sounded out.
Crow felt relief course through his body. Words of reassurance sat ready on his lips. He knew she would be totally freaked at finding Jett hurt and bleeding. Crow fully expected Melissa to be on the verge of hysteria once the crowd cleared and she saw her son.
What he did not expect to see was Melissa being led by a big guy in uniform who was standing too fucking close to her.
Was he holding her goddamn hand?
“Oh, my god. Is he okay?” Melissa was almost out of breath from running.
Crow looked from Melissa to the guy next to her.
“Where were you?” Crow’s eyes glittered dangerously.
Melissa dropped the hand that held hers and paled when she saw Crow standing protectively over her son. Blood was everywhere
“What happened?”
“Banged his face on the steering wheel. Where were you?” Crow spat out the question again.
Someone handed an icepack to Jules, who put it against Jett's mouth. Melissa moved to the left of Crow, who hadn't budged from her son's side.
He blocked her.
“Where. The. Fuck. Were. You?” Crow ground out for the third time.
Melissa shoved her way past him with barely a look.
Crow moved aside for her. But just a little. He stiffened when he saw the asshole next to Melissa question Jules.
“You checked him for concussion?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Crow stepped between them and snarled.
“Who the fuck wants to know?” the officer leaned in with his shout.
The crowd hushed and the energy shifted. Jules looked from the airman to Crow, then beyond him to where several other military men stood. To the left of them stood the Hells Saints soldiers. A new kind of tension filled the air. Jules sent Crow a look that plainly said, calm your ass down.
Jules turned to the guy in the uniform. “Yeah, man. He’s good. Nothing serious that I can make out,” Jules told him.
“You sure? We got a guy who used to be a medic at the table today,” the airman responded.
“We got this.” Crow stiffened.
The three of them looked down at Melissa, on her knees with her arms around Jett. She was whispering low and wiping away the tears of her crying child.
“Mellie? Whatever you need,” the guy said to her.
Mellie? Fucking Mellie? Crow’s eyes snapped to him.
“She has everything she needs right here.” Crow practically breathed fire.
Melissa ignored them both and clutched Jett closer to her, keeping him still so she could look over the damage herself. She was projecting outward calm, but Crow could see the extreme tensing of her already-set shoulders. Crow got that Jules was right, starting a brawl between the bikers and the soldiers probably wasn't the best way to handle the situation, but anger was Crow's go-to emotion.
Until just a few minutes ago.
Because when he saw Jett get hurt he hadn’t been angry, he had been…scared?
Shit no.
Wrong word …definitely the wrong word…
He kept searching…concerned.
Yeah, that felt better.
Crow had been concerned-to-shit about Jett's little face getting smashed into a steel wheel. He had been concerned as all fuck as to where Melissa had been and what could have kept her away long enough for her kid to be hurt. Crow had seen men shot dead, beaten, and even tortured to death and had never raised an eyebrow. But seeing Jett hurt in front of him before he could stop it? That had just about killed him.
Now he looked down as Melissa rubbed her hand up and down Jett's chest. She held the ice pack against his mouth and spoke to him in little reassuring whispers. Melissa was telling Jett to inhale and exhale in time with the movement of her hand, but his little fingers began to claw at his neck.
“Mamma, I can’t breathe,” Jett gasped.
“Grab the inhaler out of my purse!” Melissa called out in panic.
Both Crow and Tommy went for the bag at the same time. An absurd tug of war ensued until Jules grabbed the purse from the two men.
“Have your pissing contest somewhere else. And give the kid some room,” Jules ordered. “Crow, move this crowd back unless you want to make this worse than it already is. The kid has got to have room to breathe. The place has turned into a goddamn circus.”
Crow stopped cold and looked around.
The attendant who had caused the accident was leaning over and retching. Looked like Jury had taken a parting shot to drive home his point.
Skye and Charity had gotten Rosie and the other kids out from the bumper cars. The two woman stood just a few feet away watching with wide eyes as their father unleashed his legendary temper on everyone within hearing distance. Dude looked like he was gonna kill someone.
Skye was texting wildly. Crow guessed it was to her mother, Jury’s old lady. Anger blazing like that was gonna take a woman to pour some water on, no doubt. Alison had reportedly saved Jury from committing murder more than a few times. Even so, Crow decided the asshole who caused Jett's accident should consider himself lucky,
because if he had gotten to him before Jury did, Crow would have killed him.
Two overweight rent-a-cops who passed as security stood watching, flanked on both sides by Hells Saints brothers. The carnival security team’s pasty faces glistened with sweat. Their walkie-talkies hung untouched at their hips.
Closing in tight on the little circle that protected Jett were the parents who had gotten their kids off of the ride once it had stopped. Worried murmurs and curious stares fluttered through the families. Crow took a deep breath. “Prospect! Get over here and move this crowd along.”
Then Crow glared over at the airman who met his eye with a measure of calm curiosity.
“Name’s Tommy Hinks,” Tommy spoke first. “I’m a friend of Mellie’s.
“Define friend,” Crow shot back.
Jules’s head snapped around, he caught Crow’s eye. “That guy? Name I couldn’t remember?” Then Jules lifted a chin in Tommy’s direction.
Crow’s eyes narrowed and Tommy gave both men a long look.
“Look, man. You and Melissa? I think I get it. But relax. I’ve known her for a long time. Knew her husband even longer. I grew up alongside both of them, joined up alongside him and almost died there, too. That answer it?”
“Answers some of it,” Crow growled.
Crow threw Tommy one more hard glare before focusing his attention back on Melissa and Jett. It took only a few minutes more for Jett’s breathing to begin to return to normal, but to Crow those few minutes seemed like an eternity.
As Crow watched on helplessly, Melissa dispensed the medicine from the rescue inhaler in three measured puffs counting with Jett in between each dosage. Next Melissa reached into her purse for a tissue and wiped Jett's bloody chin. When Jett inhaled a long calming steady series of breaths, Melissa raised her eyes to meet Crow's.
“He’s still bleeding,” she frowned.
“Yeah. He cut his lip with his tooth. Lips bleed a lot,” Crow reassured her. “But Jules checked him out.”
Then Crow looked at Jules.
“You sure he’s not going to need stitches, right?”
“No. He'll be okay. Just keep that ice against it,” Jules said. “It might take up to about fifteen minutes to stop the flow. Might take more. I know you want to keep checking on it, but you'll have to keep the pressure on."
“Thank you for helping him,” Melissa said to Jules.
Jules nodded.
Then Melissa turned to Tommy. “I want the medic to look at Jett,” she said to him.
“Sure. I’ll take you to him right now,” Tommy replied.
Melissa gave Jules another quick look. “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment…” Her voice trailed off.
“No worries. My kid? I'd do the same. Shit, if you want, I'll come with and talk to the medic myself. Two heads and all that shit.” Jules gave her a wry smile.
Melissa flashed him a quick look of thanks.
“Crow, will you carry Jett? I think you'll be able to move quicker through the …” Melissa began to ask, but stopped when she realized that Crow had already started to fold Jett into his arms.
“You ready, little warrior?” Crow asked him.
The boy heaved a heavy sigh, and snaked his small hand around Crow’s neck. Then he lay his head down on his shoulder and relaxed heavy against him, finding comfort and security in his arms.
In his arms.
Crow realized then that Jett was right to feel that way. Because no matter what it took, Crow knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure that the little boy was okay. Even if it meant swallowing his damn pride and letting Tommy Hinks lead the way.
A fleeting thought danced through Crow’s mind and although it was gone before it had a chance to settle and begin to take root, a part of it still lingered.
This must be what it feels like to be a father.
Chapter 27
Melissa snuck little peeks at Crow's set jaw as he sat behind the steering wheel of her car. Much to her relief the medic had confirmed Jules's initial diagnosis—no concussion, no loose teeth, no stitches needed. The bleeding had also stopped like Jules had said it would and although Jett had a fat lip, he didn't seem any worse for the wear. While Melissa was overjoyed that Jett was going to be okay, her own nerves were frayed to the bone.
What a strange day it had been. Running into Tommy again had filled her with long-forgotten feelings, but the way Crow had held Jett in his arms and the way Jett had relaxed into him…
Melissa didn’t honestly even know what to do with that.
But she had to admit to herself that it had felt good to have someone else worry about Jett and take charge in such a frightening situation. It seemed like forever that she had been doing all the worrying on her own.
They would definitely have a conversation about the way he had spoken to her, but not in front of Jett and not before she thought it through. So she shut up for now, put her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes.
She had given Jett her cell and he was busy playing his favorite game on it. Melissa had been really relieved that the front teeth, which actually were still baby teeth, seemed okay. Even if the collision discolored them, Jett would be losing them soon anyway. And luckily he had not whacked his eye or his forehead. Considering what might have happened, Melissa knew that she could consider the damage to Jett minor. Even though in her mother's heart it did not feel that way.
Jett was still a little shaken up, but likely not nearly so much as the attendant whose negligence had caused the accident. That guy would be messed up for a long time if the way Jury went after him was any indication. Jesus.
What a day.
Images danced through her mind until she pushed them away into a blur behind her closed eyes with a groan.
“Head hurt?” Crow asked beside her.
Melissa mumbled a small “yes” without opening her eyes.
About fifteen minutes later she felt the car stop. Without lifting her head, she opened her eyes and turned to look at Crow. They were in the parking lot of a superstore.
“Gonna get a few things,” he grumbled and was out the door. Melissa put her head back and closed her eyes again. The pinging sound of the game that Jett played on her phone beat inside her head like a jackhammer.
Crow was back in about twenty minutes with a couple of bags filled with stuff. He rifled through the sacks and took out a big bottle of pain reliever and half a liter of spring water.
“Here, take these.” He held out two pills in his hand and pushed them towards Melissa along with the water. Then he tossed the bag to Jett in the back seat.
Melissa watched as Jett pulled out small containers of pudding, a box of Popsicles, a few cans of his favorite soup, a couple of pints of specialty ice cream, a small handheld game system, a few games and….something else that Melissa couldn’t identify.
“Thanks, Crow!”
“Thought you might need some soft stuff to eat. And now you can stop using your mom’s phone for games all the time.”
“What’s this?” Jett eyed what looked like a camouflage painted baby monitor.
“Intercom for you and your mom. You keep one in your room; she keeps one in hers.” Crow busied himself putting the key in the ignition.
“Like a walkie-talkie?"
“Just like that,” Crow said over the roar of the engine.
“Hey, this isn't one of those baby monitors is it?” Jett picked up the offending device to punctuate his point.
“What?! Come on, little warrior. Would I do that to you? You ever see a baby monitor decked out in camouflage? Thought you’d like a walkie-talkie. Now you don’t have to leave your room in the middle of the night if you want something. And if your mom needs you, she don’t have to leave either. Makes sense, right?”
Jett shrugged and put it aside to open up his game.
Melissa looked at Crow, but he kept his eyes on the road. The pain reliever had begun to kick in, but just before she leaned back to relax, she
saw a small look of relief cross Crow's face. It was a look that she knew well and had sported herself more than a few times. It was that look that came over a parent when they were able to pull a small act of subterfuge off for the good of their child.
Or for the good of themselves.
***
“It’s a baby monitor, right?” Melissa whispered as she threw a look over her shoulder at the open bedroom door.
Once they were back at the cottage, Crow and Jett had bent their heads together over the game system and “walkie talkie” for about an hour while Melissa put away the groceries and cooked dinner. After they had all eaten and Jett had taken his bath, Melissa had put him to bed. Then she had walked into her bedroom to find Crow fiddling with the charging system that he had set up on her night stand.
“That is a baby monitor, isn’t it?” she leaned in and asked again.
“Shit yeah, it is.” Crow looked over his shoulder and whispered back. “Thank God they had it in camo or I don’t think I ever would have gotten it past him.”
“Never.” Melissa agreed. “But why did you get it in the first place? I’m a light sleeper and Jett knows that if he needs anything he can just come and get me.”
“Yeah. My point.” Crow grumbled and jiggled the chord when the indicator light went out. “Damn, it's the third time this has gone out.”
“That plug doesn’t always work. You need to plug it in on the top one.” Melissa pointed to an alternate outlet. “And what do you mean ‘my point?’”
Crow stopped what he was doing and gave Melissa a long look.
“That thing that happened last time with Jett walking in on us? Never going to happen again. This way he can call you if he needs you. We're going to have to start locking that door, Melissa. I had a talk with him and he gets it.”
“I don’t understand.” Melissa colored.
“What part?” Crow was back to fiddling with the monitor dial.
“The part where you think it’s okay for you to tell my son that he can’t come to his mother’s room ‘cause she’s banging the landlord?” Melissa blurted out in horror.
Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) Page 16
