Connected in Pain : A Motorcycle Club Romance Trilogy of Crow & Rylynn

by Ryan Michele

  “Who?” I answered the phone call from Xavier instead of a greeting. We’d made it back to Rebellion with no one on our tails or in our business. It didn’t mean I let what happened go. We needed to know who the fuck tried to clap in on the shipment. It could be the motherfucker who had eyes on us. Swear to Christ if Tommy fucked us, he was dead.

  It was their shipment, but our asses were there too. We needed to cover all of our bases.

  “They’re dead,” he said matter-of-factly.

  That was nice, but not what I asked. “Who was it?”

  “You don’t need to worry. You or your club weren’t mentioned in anything.”

  Anger flooded me as I sat in my office chair stiff. “You’re not hearing me. You either tell me who those fuckers were or I come find you.” The threat was hard and one I’d follow through on in a heartbeat. All bases would be covered. Always.

  He sighed deep on the other end. “We have some issues with one of our runners. He’s trying to take over part of our area, and that isn’t going to happen.”

  While he did give me some information, it wasn’t enough. “If I have to ask again, Xavier, you’ll be having a meeting with my gun.”

  “I don’t appreciate being threatened,” he retorted, and I heard my phone give a slight crack as I loosened up my grasp.

  “Alright. You wanted it,” I challenged, moving to disconnect the phone. Ravage didn’t eat shit, and that was what Xavier was trying to shovel our way.

  “It was Damien Curtis. He wasn’t with them, but we took out seven of his crew who were sent here to take our shipment. How the fuck they knew is something we are working on.”

  “Yeah, you fucking do that, and I want updates that he’s neutralized.”

  “So this is what I have to look forward to doing business with you?” It was his turn to challenge me, and I didn’t give that first flying fuck.

  “If we decide to do this again. Right now, you’ll be lucky to get anything through the Chattanooga.”

  He sighed again. Xavier had a small business. Growing, but still small for the most part. He needed us more than we needed him. That was always how it was supposed to be. Never count on others, only rely on your brothers.

  “Right. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Good.” Without another word, I disconnected the phone.

  My thumb moved over the screen pulling up my texts. Made it. Take care of yourself.

  It pissed me off. One, because I wanted to hear her voice over the phone and two, she was saying goodbye, again. I was coming to fucking hate good-byes.

  Tossing the phone to the desk, Rylynn was all I could see. Her smartass mouth. Her hair, eyes, and body. How she loved her family and knew about the Ravage history. All of it wrapped into a tall, sexy body.

  Closing my eyes, I could smell and taste her. With everything going on, I couldn’t go to Sumner right now, but fuck if my hand wasn’t itching to spank her ass.

  Grabbing my phone, I dialed. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Pixie. You didn’t call me.”

  She sighed, and I could picture her face set in a stubborn line. Sexy.

  “I texted. That was good enough.”

  This pissed me off. “No, it wasn’t. Needed to make sure you were good. Needed to make sure nothing happened to you. You were on the road for over three hours by yourself. Don’t like that shit.”

  One could hear the laughter in her voice. “Don’t worry. I blew two truckers so they would change my tire. It was all good.”

  Fuck, I loved that smartass mouth. “Guess I’m comin’ to Sumner.”

  She laughed full out. “Oh calm down, Grizzly. I’m good and safe. No worries.”

  “Good.”

  I paused on the phone, something on the tip of my tongue to spit out, but it wouldn’t come. There was no point in it. And damn if that didn’t piss me off too.

  “Crow?”

  “Yeah, Pixie.”

  “Thanks for callin’. I appreciate it.”

  Damn, her voice over the phone was sexy. The way she accentuated different sounds in her words and the fluctuation stood out more over the telephone.

  “Yeah, Pixie. I’ll call you later.”

  “Uh… what?”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  A heavy knock came to the door just as I heard her starting to make some stupid excuse on why we shouldn’t talk on the phone. “Bye,” I called out right before I hung up. The next time I talked to her, she’d have a lot to say about that and the anticipation felt like a rush.

  “Yeah.” The door swung open and Wrong Way stepped through holding a laptop. This wasn’t a good sign. Normally, Wrong Way didn’t bring his computer to me. This could only mean one thing. “You found something.”

  “Yep.” He brought the computer to the side of my desk, set it down, grabbed a chair, and pulled it over next to me. On the screen was a large detailed spreadsheet.

  Wrong Way started punching some keys. “Carlo is taking money off the top before he puts it in the safe. I went through every roll of receipts to find out how he was doing it, and it started to add up. The differences.” He turned it to me, and my stomach clenched.

  In bold red numbers, it said one hundred thousand, seven hundred fifty-six dollars and some change. “You’re fuckin’ shittin’ me. Please tell me you’re shittin’ me.”

  “Sorry, boss. But nope. Going through the receipts and the bank statements with a fine-toothed comb—with taking our other stuff out, that’s what it comes up to being lost. He’s a smart motherfucker. Not taking too much at one time. A little here. A little there. Enough that it wouldn’t send us on alert, but also enough for him to make it worth his while.”

  “You know for sure it was him?” While I knew Wrong Way wouldn’t bring me this shit unless it was true, I had to ask since I intended on putting a bullet between his eyes. Knowing he was really the fucker who did was necessary.

  Without hesitation, he pulled up the feed from the store on the computer. Blackness covered the screen for a moment. “He covered up the camera in the office.” Sure enough, it shows exactly when Carlo pulled the covering down, even smiling into it with a shit-eating grin. Fucking prick. “Now this.” He pulled up footage outside the office door.

  It showed Carlo going in. Wrong Way paused it. “See right there.” He pointed to the screen that had a side view of Carlo, one hand in his right pocket.

  “Yeah.”

  “Watch this.”

  On the screen was Carlo coming out of the office. Wrong Way paused it then pointed to the same pocket. It currently had no hand in it and it was bulging.

  “Fucker. Any idea how long it’s been goin’ on?”

  “About five months, but the first two of those, it wasn’t much. He was watching to see if I’d catch it, but it was so small and since I don’t do the checks from the receipts only the books, I missed it. Also, pulled his bank information.” The screen turned to a bank statement. “We paid him on Fridays with direct deposit. Here it shows that the money went through. Those are the only deposits he’s made.”

  “Therefore, he has our money somewhere liquid.”

  “Yep. That’d be my guess.”

  “Now on, you’re on the books at the store watching the receipts and cash in. Every month, after we find Carlo’s replacement, you go there and make sure all the numbers add up with the receipts. We do not need the feds or the state after us for something this stupid, when we can get it handled right now.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  “Wait. Did you find anything out at the Purple Pride?”

  “Been swamped in this. That’ll be my next go.”

  “Good. Round up the guys. We’re goin’ fishin’.”

  Wrong Way chuckled as I grabbed my phone, seeing I hadn’t closed the text from Rylynn. This time it made me smile. She thought she could run, but she couldn’t. Only time would tell.

  I checked my guns, added a few more,, and met my
brothers outside the club. Giving them a brief low down, needless to say everyone was pissed as we took off down the road, only a few minutes later pulling up to Carlo’s home.

  His car wasn’t in the drive giving us the perfect opportunity to check out his house. We ended up parking around the side of the house, took off our cuts, and walked up to the door like we were supposed to be there. That was a very important thing that people always forgot. If your head was held high and you looked like you belonged somewhere, no one would question you.

  They’d go on their way not giving you a second thought.

  If you’re timid and shaky, that puts a fucking bull’s-eye on your back. No one needed that shit.

  Instead of busting down the door, Brewer pulled out his tools and had the lock popped in seconds as we noted the people on their porches. Since we looked like we belonged there and Phoenix did his crazy-ass welcome like last time, no one said a word as we entered.

  “This doesn’t have to be pretty,” I told them with only one thing on my mind—

  wanting our fucking money back. Hell, we all did.

  “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Phoenix pulled out his knife and began slitting through the cushions of the couch. The guys spread out through the house. Dishes could be heard breaking on the floor in the kitchen and different crashes throughout the house. I tossed a few pictures off the walls seeing nothing behind them.

  “Crow!” Rooster called out, stepping into the hallway and waving me once in his direction. Entering the room, the floor boards were popped up under the bed. It was good too because it only showed about a fourth of an inch above the rest of the floor. Rooster had great eyes.

  Rooster pulled the board back and pulled out its confines. “Fuck. He’s that stupid to put the cash in a Ziploc bag?”

  He nodded, opened the bag, and started counting. It would take him a while.

  “What the…” I heard in the distance, then a scuffle, then a solid punch being thrown and connecting on someone’s body. Darting out of the room, Phoenix’s knee was in the small of Carlo’s back on the floor with Brewer aiming his gun at the man’s head. Bags of food were scattered all over the floor, apples rolling this way and that, cracked eggs leaking all over the floor.

  “Seems we have a problem.” My boot pressed down on the side of his face as he began yelling and trying to get loose from Phoenix with absolutely no luck at all. “You see. We pay you to do a job. Very well I might add.” I pressed down harder feeling the push back from his jawbone. “And you stole from us. That was a stupid mistake, Carlo.”

  Picking up my boot, I used every bit of strength and slammed it down on the asshole’s face hitting directly on his jaw. He cried out in pain, but my boot was far from the worst of his problems. “Get him up.” Phoenix did as asked and Carlo had a difficult time keeping to his feet.

  “I didn’t…” the asshole started with a mumble unable to move his jaw right, but I didn’t want to hear a fucking thing. My fist connected with his jaw on the opposite side, his head flying to the side. My leather gloves protected me from his blood now oozing out of his mouth on both sides.

  “Rooster!” I yelled, and the man came through the hallway into the living room. “All there?”

  “Lookin’ like it. Don’t know how but he’s got bigger bills in it making it easier to count.” That I didn’t give one shit about. If it was our money, didn’t matter what bills they were.

  “Now… what do we do with a thief?”

  My brothers all looked at each other, a smile on their faces. This wasn’t my favorite part of the job, but it was necessary. Brewer, Lemon, and Hornet dragged Carlo to the kitchen and laid his hands on the counter top. Tex stuffed a rag in Carlo’s mouth to shut him up. No need to alert the neighbors.

  This was Phoenix’s gig. He got off on it.

  “You have sticky fingers, taking what’s not yours.” I nodded to Phoenix who held his knife his focus now on Carlo.

  Phoenix pressed the blade down on his pinky finger. Blood spattered the counter tops and floor.

  Carlo’s screams were muffled as he tried to get away, but it didn’t work. There was no running from Ravage. He knew what he was getting himself into when he started this. Now he suffered the consequences of his actions.

  One by one each of Carlo’s fingers were removed. On the seventh one, he passed out. We tried waking him up, but it didn’t work. Phoenix shrugged. “Bullet and get him buried.”

  “I hate the diggin’ part,” Lemon groaned, and Rooster slapped him upside the head.

  “Then call a prospect and have them do it, dumbass.”

  “You fuckin’ hit me again we got problems,” Lemon challenged, and we didn’t need this shit right now. We needed to get our business done and get out.

  “Knock that shit off. Wrong Way, get the van and pull it into the garage. Get the body in the back and get him underground.” Wrong Way took off. “We secure it. Brewer, you’re here tonight and light it up.”

  It was Brewer’s turn to smile. He was a pyro fanatic. Knew everything there was to know about explosives. Shit that no one should have in their arsenal, yet he did. Growing up together, he hadn’t changed one bit.

  “Just another day in paradise,” Rooster said, clapping his hand on my shoulder.

  “Right.”

  “Why in the hell is something as fine as her with a dick like him?” Brewer asked from the passenger seat of my Tahoe as we sat in front of Sophia’s house. He was snapping pictures. I was watching how the asshole acted with Sophia.

  That snake slithered up my skin once again telling me something was wrong. Maybe it was her having a man, but it had been too long for the jealousy card to be played. No. It was the guy.

  “According to what Lemon pulled up, he works at the lumber yard and has a place in the town over. He’s been seein’ Sophia for about three weeks.” Which made me wonder why in the fuck this guy was taking in boxes.

  Sophia wouldn’t let the asshole move in… at least that was what I thought. When a large suitcase came out of the back of the dick’s truck, it stuck the nail in the coffin. That asshole was going to be in a house with my kid. It was time to dig down deep with this guy.

  “People make decent money at the yard, but that truck is brand new, Crow. Costs over forty-five K. That’s a lot on his salary.”

  “Alright. Call Ethan and have him tail this fuckwad. I want to know everything from the time he wakes up until he goes to bed and while he’s sleepin’.”

  Brewer pulled out his phone and made the call.

  Oh Sophia, what have you gotten yourself into?

  Music boomed through the clubhouse so loud it could be heard outside where I sat by the pool. It was the prime spot to see the women leaving nothing to the imagination. Brewer sat next to me taking slow pulls off his beer.

  Looking out among the people the sense of family overtook me. I was an only child, and all of these people filled in that gap for me. Family wasn’t blood. It was those who had your back through the thick and thin of life. These men around me were my family, down to my soul.

  I’d do anything to protect them, and they would do the same.

  While there were lots of people who didn’t understand the MC lifestyle, I didn’t really get not being in it. Loyalty among people these days was a lost cause. Everyone trying to one up the next and spent their lives doing that shit.

  There were no rules out there when it came to people, but in here there was and we followed them to the letter. Loyalty, trust, and commitment to the club and brothers were the top priority. We stood by that and would stand by that for as long as this club was around.

  “You find anything about Damien yet?” I asked Brewer.

  He shook his head. “I’m thinkin’ it’s an alias, but I’ve got Lemon on it.”

  Before I could respond Ethan came up. “Got a minute?”

  Waving my hand out, I invited him to sit. “Been on that guy for two days now. He doesn’t work in the lumber yard. He d
rove right past it both days heading south into Stagnant. Crow, he went into the Purple Pride.” This place had to be something. How could this place show up with a man we were trying to find, Barry, and my ex’s man?

  “Wrong Way find anything out there?” Brewer asked.

  I shook my head. “He was too caught up in the books and Carlo. It was his next project.”

  “Looks like you might want to move that along,” Brewer added.

  “Ya think. Find him, tell him what’s going on. He needs to get his ass over to Stagnant and find out what the fuck is going on there. Make sure someone has his back.”

  Brewer nodded just as my cell rang, and he halted. I pulled it out of the pocket inside my cut. The call said, Cruz calling. I sat up straight, Brewer catching my movement his eye acute.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Cruz’s callin’ me.” I took the call. “Crow.”

  “Need you in Sumner by tomorrow night,” Cruz said, abrupt and strange. He was a hard man, but he always at least said hi or this is Cruz.

  “Why?” Rising from the chair, I moved off into the distance where the music was muffled so I could hear clearer. This was obviously important. Leaning against the fence, my leg bent at the knee, foot landing on the wood.

  “Tomorrow. Need you here.”

  “You’re not gonna tell me why?”

  The other end of the phone was silent for a few beats. “Just get here by tomorrow night.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Club’s good, just need to talk to you. Comin’?”

  I flipped my watch checking out the time, for what reason I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I’d leave tonight to make the trip there. And there… Rylynn was there.

  “Yep.”

  “Good.” He hung up the phone, and I walked back over to Brewer.

  “What was that about?” he asked with curious eyes.

  “Cruz wants me in Sumner by tomorrow night. Wouldn’t tell me why.”

  Brewer sat up straight, then moved to get up and stand next to me. “That’s strange. You want me to get the guys together?”

  “Just you and Wrong Way. Pull Wrong Way off the Purple Pride and get Phoenix and Tex to go. Explain why we need this intel. Everyone else needs to stay here, get shit done, and keep their eyes open. Also, get Phoenix to make a visit to Tommy as soon as possible. We need the guys to rotate at the store and have Hornet find a replacement for Carlo on the double.”