Loving Crow (Unsaintly Kings MC Book 1)

by A. Lynn

  Moose cocks his head. "Plan of action for what?"

  “Her punishment,” Rhys supplies.

  “What did she do?” Moose follows with.

  “She put MDMA in Crow’s drinks when he was here playing cards with Tex, Juice, Unit, Bob, Creed, Jagger, and Easy the other night,” Rhys answers.

  “I knew something wasn’t right,” Tex smacks his palm against the table. “Fucking worthless!”

  Shadow shakes his head. “Why? What was the end game here?”

  “She admitted to Reagan, Skylar, Ma, and Marley that she was trying to get pregnant,” I answer. “She was doing it to break me and Reagan up. She also had someone in the background that was taking pictures.”

  “That’s fucked up,” Shadow shakes his head. “Do we know who was helping her?”

  “Not yet,” Axle states. “But we will.”

  “Where is she now?” Moose asks.

  “Locked up in one of the storage areas in the basement,” Axle answers. “We tried to get her to give up her accomplice for the past hour, but she wouldn’t budge. Gun and I are going to go at her again and if she doesn’t tell us who helped her, then we are going to start interrogating the other pussies. I guarantee they will crack.”

  “Cleo and whoever helped her need to be exiled and ran out of Arizona," Ghost states.

  “I second that,” I agree.

  “Me, too," Gunner says. "Is that what we all are thinking?"

  “Ayes” round the table once again.

  “So we are losing two pussies because Crow can’t handle himself?”

  “Fuck you, Dec,” I yell.

  Pop is on his feet and rounding the table before Dec has a chance to react. When he is standing beside him, Pop wraps his hand around Dec’s neck and lifts him out of the chair. “How fucking dare you say that shit? He is your fucking brother! Maybe you should stop worrying so much about where you’re going to stick your dick and start thinking about how that fucking bitch gave him too much in every one of his drinks. She overdosed your brother! He could have fucking died, you spoiled fucking brat! Worried about your fucking dick… not everything is about your bitch ass." Pop throws him to the floor a few feet away from him. He bends down and fists his shirt to bring him a little closer and says, "Now get the fuck out of my sight. You disgust me!”

  “Okay, guys, let’s calm down. That’s all we needed to discuss right now anyway. Meeting adjourned,” Gun says as he smacks the gavel on the table. “Crow, take Colt out and get a drink or two to calm him down.”

  I nod and go look for Pop.

  “Dec! A word. NOW!” Gunner demands as everyone files out of the chapel.

  I walk into the front room and see Pop on a couch with his head in his hands. I continue to the bar, “Motherfucker Jones!” I can’t contain the laugh that pops out of me every time I talk to him.

  When Gun asked his name when he came to prospect, in all seriousness, he said “Motherfucker Jones”. I asked him about it one day and he said, “It’s what his Moma named him” then his ass smiled at me and walked away. Creed was dying beside me and told me to watch Horrible Bosses. And just like that, his road name was set in stone.

  “What can I get you, Crow?”

  “Two beers.”

  “You got it." He bends below the bar to grab two long necks, popping the tops then pushing them towards me.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Yup."

  “Here, Pop. I brought you a beer,” I say as I drop down on the couch beside him. “You okay?”

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure what just happened in there. I have never raised a hand to any of you in anger.”

  “You just proved my point."

  “He’s my son—”

  “So am I. You were acting without thought to protect your son.”

  “Against my other son?”

  "Does it matter where the threat—perceived or otherwise—comes from? You love me, Pop, you won't let harm come to me. Or him." I sigh, "A negative action against someone you love will bring out reactions that you wouldn't normally think yourself capable of.”

  “Your Ma is going to have my balls for this.”

  "Not if you tell her the truth. But you may want to get to her before he does, though, or you will be two steps behind if you let him get to her first."

  “Shit! You’re right. I got to go,” he jumps from the couch and puts his phone to his ear as he rushes towards the front door. Not two minutes later, I hear the roar of his pipes as he flies out of the lot.

  “What's got you smiling so hard?"

  Axle asks.

  "Pop just flew out of here to get to Ma before Dec’s ass does… He is panicking.”

  “Rightfully so. Your Ma used to scare the shit out of me. If I’m being honest, she still kind of does. She is intense.”

  “Dramatic much?”

  “Whatever, I still tick when I hear her speaking full Spanish!”

  I bark out a laugh. "Thanks, man, I needed that."

  “What was that in there with you and Dec?”

  “I have no idea. He has always had these little animosities towards me, but it wasn't a big deal until Mase was appointed to RC two. I never thought it he would want to see me hurt."

  “It doesn't make sense, I feel like I'm missing something."

  “Me, too. I just don’t know what,” I sigh. “You mind if I go talk to Cleo?”

  “You think that is a good idea?”

  “I don't know… probably not."

  “You shouldn't go down there alone, but maybe you can go down with me and Gun when he's done talking to Dec.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You ready, Axle?” Gunner booms behind us.

  “Come on, man,” Axle says to me as we both rise from the couch and head to Gunner who is standing by the basement door.

  “You coming, too, Crow?”

  “If it's okay with you."

  “You can be a silent observer, you are not to speak to her. Think you can handle that?"

  “You got it."

  He opens the door and the three of us start down the two staircases. When we are standing in the doorway of her “cell,” Gunner asks, “You ready to be any more forthcoming than you were this morning?”

  “Forthcoming about what? You already know everything,” Cleo huffs. “What else do you think I can tell you?”

  “That's bullshit and you know it," Gunner says sharply as he and Axle step further into the room.

  “How is it bullshit?”

  “Because someone took the pictures, dumbass,” Axle retorts.

  She rolls her eyes and looks away. That’s when she notices me. “Crow,” she whispers. “I would never have intentionally hurt you, you know that right?”

  “How was it unintentional? They must have accidentally fallen from your cleavage and landed in his drinks. Over and over," Gunner cocks his head. "Is that what you are trying to sell me?"

  “No.”

  “I didn't think so. So I will ask again, who helped you?"

  “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

  “Try me,” Gunner replies. “Crazier things have happened.”

  She catches my gaze and with a tear running down her cheek, she says, “It was a brother.”

  “Bullshit!" Axle roars. "Stop fucking lying!"

  She doesn't break the connection between us and with more tears free-falling down her face, she whispers, "I'm so sorry, Crow. I really do love you."

  I look at Gunner, pleading with my eyes to speak. He nods.

  I turn back to Cleo and say, “If you love me so much, tell me what happened.”

  She nods and begins to speak, “He came to me a few weeks ago and asked if I wanted an absolute way to get you to myself. Of course, I said yes. So he and I sat together and he told me the plan. He said that the only way to guarantee you chose me was if I got pregnant. I laughed at that because I don't want to be a mother and because Skylar was just here the week before to give us our shots and b
lood tests. He said that there was a way around the shot and to let him take care of it. A couple of days later he showed up with St. John’s Wort.

  I looked into the effectiveness of interference and it said that they were only effective with oral contraceptives. The chance of it happening with the shot was slim. The only stuff that I saw was that it made your body burn through the contraceptive faster but it didn't make it null and void as he thought, but I didn’t tell him that.”

  “Who is he?” Gun demands.

  She holds up her finger and says, “I’m getting there. He found me on my break at the diner a week later with a baggie full of pills. I promise, Crow, I didn’t know what it was.”

  “Why would you give it to me then?"

  “I didn’t think he would hurt you."

  “How did you know the dosing if you didn't know what it was?" Axle asks.

  “He said to crush two and a half pills per drink. He said they were eighty milligrams each. I thought that was a lot but he assured me you would be fine, your body just required more because you are so tall," she cries.

  “So if we take your word for it that the pills were eighty each and you gave him two and a half each time, that’s two hundred milligrams of MDMA,” Gunner states. “How many drinks did you dose?”

  “Gunner, I didn't—"

  “How fucking many?!" Axle screams in her face.

  “Four,” she whispers.

  “Four? That’s eight hundred milligrams, you stupid fucking bitch! Tell me again how you didn’t intentionally hurt me!”

  “Crow,” she begs.

  “Shut the fuck up! Why shouldn’t I put a bullet in your brain right the fuck now?”

  “Please don’t,” she begs.

  “Who the fuck is he?!” I scream at her.

  “He’ll kill me.”

  “And? What the fuck does that have to do with me?” I ask.

  “Get me away from here and I will tell you whatever you want to know,” she pleads with Gunner. I look over in time to see him nod at her.

  She looks at me again and says, “It’s your brother.”

  “I know that, bitch. Tell me something I don't know."

  "Crow, you aren't hearing me. It's your brother.”

  “What are you saying? Are you telling me it was Dec who came to you?”

  She nods.

  “Gun, that can’t be right. We have issues, sure, but he wouldn’t go this far. Right?”

  "Axle, get him down here, he’s got some explaining to do,” Gunner says.

  “Crow?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Cleo.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Axle comes down the steps and says, "He's not here. No one's seen him since he came out of the chapel. I looked in the lot, too, and his bike is gone."

  “FUCK!” Gunner yells. “Okay, this is what we are going to do. Nobody knows what happened down here but us. Let's keep it that way for right now. We'll just watch. What was said does not leave here. Yet. I’m serious, Crow, if you can’t control it, stay the fuck away from him.”

  I nod. "I need to get out of here. I'm going to head home and see Reagan."

  “Sounds like a good idea."

  “I don't know, Gun, if what she says is true, maybe we should send him on a bogus run or something. Give ourselves a few days to calm down."

  “If there was any way to verify her story without him being here, then maybe, but he wasn’t seen anywhere near her here at the clubhouse.”

  “I can prove it."

  The three of us turn in perfect sync—if I wasn’t so pissed it would have been funny.

  “How?” Gunner asks.

  “I recorded the meeting outside of the diner.”

  “And?”

  She sighs. "He didn't want to be seen with me so he could have deniability. He texted me to meet him behind the diner, so I paid my bill and turned on the video camera on my phone before I stuck it in my purse.”

  “You expect us to believe he didn't try to search you?" Axle asks.

  “Why would he? It was to be a win-win situation for the both of us," she shrugs. "The first attempt had failed, I needed it to work this time. The only thing I didn't plan for was that bitch of yours."

  “First time?” I ask.

  “When you were late to Church a couple of weeks ago. I didn't give you enough then, so he said to go higher in dosage. I just ended up force-feeding you drinks until you were high enough."

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “So did you or did you not know what you were giving him?” Axle grits.

  “Choose your words wisely, bitch, or I will end you right fucking now," Gunner says, deadly calm.

  “I didn’t know the first time, I swear. But the second time I did,” she confesses.

  “What the fuck else did you lie about?” I demand.

  “Nothing,” she says just as Axle’s phone rings.

  Stepping away, he answers, “Hey Sky,” he starts, drawing my attention. “Now’s not a good time.” Pause. He looks up at me and says, “Yeah, he’s right here.” Pause. “You want to talk to him?” Pause. “Hold on. Crow, it’s for you.”

  Taking his phone, I answer, “Sky? Why are you calling on Axle’s phone?”

  “Because you didn’t answer yours, dick,” she rushes. “Crow, Rea was brought into the ER by ambulance. You need to get here now.”

  “What are you talking about? She’s at home, I dropped her there when I left the salon.”

  “I don’t have time to get into this with you—I could lose my job for calling you as it is—just get here," she says as her voice cracks. "Crow, hurry. It's bad."

  “I’m on my way.”

  “What’s up?” Gunner asks.

  “Sky said that Rea was brought into the ER and that it was bad," I rush. I'm panicking, what the hell happened to my woman?

  “Let’s go,” Gun says. “I’ll drive.”

  I nod while I dig my phone out of my pocket. I usually put it on silent when we’re meeting for Church, and I must not have turned my ringer back on. I dig through my pockets but I’m coming up empty.

  “My phone isn’t here. I’ll check my bike and meet you at the truck.”

  “Okay."

  I run out to my bike and when I get through the first saddlebag, Gun hollers, "I got it!"

  He hands it over when I sit in the seat. There are so many missed calls and text messages from Sky, but there is only one name I’m looking for. The first text came from Reagan about an hour after I dropped her off. It’s only one word.

  My Baby: Help.

  The second comes two hours after the first.

  My Baby: Where are you?

  Her first message was four hours ago. And what was I doing? Observing my brothers question Cleo. When all the while she was waiting for me to come and help her through whatever it was that happened. I’ll never forgive myself for this.

  I pull up Ma’s contact and call her. It rings twice before she answers, “Mijo?”

  “Yeah, Ma, it’s me. Are you busy?”

  “I just finished a walk-in cut and blowout. What are you doing?"

  “I’m headed to the hospital.”

  “Why?” She shrieks. “Are you hurt, Mijo?”

  “It’s not me, Ma.”

  “Is it Dec?”

  “No Ma, we are all fine. It’s Reagan,” I say as my voice cracks.

  “Is she okay? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, Sky wouldn’t say, just that it was bad.”

  “Oh, Mijo. I’m on my way.”

  “Thank you,” I croak.

  I sit holding Reagan's hand as a doctor enters the private room with an empathetic smile and an arm extended. As she clasps her hand around mine, she says, "Mr. Greene, I presume?" I nod and she continues, "I'm Tracey Wiley, the doctor who took care of your…"

  “Fiancee,” I supply.

  “Fiancee, right, Skylar told me that when she had to remove herself from the case because she’s your sister.”

 
“Can you tell me what happened, Doc?”

  “I cannot. She wasn't conscious when she came in." She looks around the room and sees my folks, Gunner, Axle, and Rhys. Her gaze staying locked on Rhys's a little too long, before coming back to me. "Ms. Marks injuries are of a sensitive nature, and while I don't know her, I don't think that she would want it broadcast. So if everyone could head out to the waiting room, I will update you and answer any questions you have."

  “She’s right, guys,” Rhys says. “We’ll be in the waiting room, brother.”

  “Ma, will you stay?”

  “Of course, Mijo,” she says sitting in the chair next to mine.

  “I can see where Skylar gets her looks from," she compliments.

  Ma smiles but disregards her compliment. "What are we looking at Doctor?"

  She blushes, “Right, sorry. When Ms. Marks was brought in, she was unconscious. At first, her facial injuries indicated an MVA, but—"

  "What is an MVA?" Ma interrupts.

  “Sorry, a motor vehicle accident, but the EMTs said that they retrieved her from her house. And when she arrived here, she was naked and bleeding profusely.”

  “Dios, mio,” Ma whispers.

  “Did someone break into our house?"

  “I don’t know that, Mr. Greene.”

  “Will you tell me what you do know? Please,” I plead.

  Dr. Wiley sighs and says, “She has an orbital fracture—a fractured eye socket with a bloody eye, though I don’t think it will require surgery. It’s imperative that she refrain from blowing her nose for several weeks. Infection can spread from her sinuses to the tissues of her eye socket.”

  I already know the answer, but I ask anyway, “What causes that kind of injury?”

  “A significant punch or any similar blow to the eye,” she answers. “She also has a broken nose. I called and had Dr. Riggs—from orthopedics—come set and pack her nose. He’s the best here.”

  “Why would someone hurt her?" Ma cries.

  “I don’t know, Ma, but I’m going to find out,” I vow. “Los terminare.” I move my gaze back to the Doc—who’s looking mighty pale and say, “Please continue.”

  “The bandaging under her chin—that wraps long ways is because she had a dislocated jaw. Dr. Riggs put that in place. She is fine to speak, but she should refrain from opening her mouth too wide.” She pauses, so I nod. "Moving down, ribs four, five, and six are fractured. We wrapped her up pretty tight, but she is going to be in a lot of pain from them. No amount of tape will make them painless.