by Ryan Michele
My heart slammed in my chest. I could feel it actually bouncing off the walls of my ribs. He couldn’t be hurt. Just couldn’t. “What happened?”
Wrong Way didn’t hesitate. “His dad had a heart attack.”
My heart sank. This was all too much, too fast, and too intense. I skirted out of the room grabbing my still damp undergarments and putting my jeans back on, then tying Crow’s shirt so it didn’t come down to my knees.
Greer could be heard in the other room talking to Wrong Way, then it was quiet. There was a small bit of hope he left. I wanted to deal with him on another day, not when someone could possibly die. His father’s life was turned upside down and now before he could settle his own feelings this happened. For today, Greer got a pass from me.
Slipping on my boots, I made my way back into the living room, bent down, and started tying. “Is it bad?”
“Yeah. They took him in to try to revive him, but it doesn’t look good,” Wrong Way explained, not giving much away.
“Fuck.”
“See you met one of the kids.”
I finished tying and stood up grabbing my phone and sunglasses. “One? How many does the man have?” I fought and managed to keep my voice steady and not let my surprise be known.
“Two. The other is a girl. Ten-years-old.”
Christ, that was how old Mazie was. I had to shake all of this off. “Let’s go.” There was no more to say. I climbed on the back of Wrong Way’s bike, and we shot like a rocket as I clutched his sides. It didn’t feel right being on this bike with him. I found myself letting go of him and maintaining my balance by gripping the seat. Wrong Way wasn’t a bad guy, he just wasn’t my guy and being on his bike wasn’t my place.
Two kids. This proved I didn’t know shit about Crow except for we were magnificent in bed. It was the connection though that had me keep coming back to him. This invisible thread that didn’t want to release from him. There were so many things I didn’t know about this man. Would this crazy pull be enough? Was this real? The more I let my mind wonder the more intense my emotions became.
True, he told me about his mother, father, Cruz and I knew somewhat about his club, but had no clue what his favorite food was or his favorite football team, kids. Maybe coming here was a stupid idea. Maybe the pain of losing my grandpa was too much for me and since the only time I could truly forget was in Crow’s arms, I reached for it.
Or maybe this connection was so strong it wouldn’t let me pull away from him. This was all so damn confusing and since I got on the back of his bike, I was in it now and needed to figure this shit out.
The bottom line was I wanted to be with this man and cared for him deeply. Everything else would either come or it wouldn’t. We’d have to cross that bridge when it got to us. I couldn’t put the cart before the horse as the old saying went.
Pulling up to the emergency room, lights flashed and cars were parked everywhere. Wrong Way barely had the bike stopped before I was hopping off, ripping my helmet off. I had one thought, one mission.
Crow.
Running into the building, the waiting room was packed with men wearing the Ravage MC patches all blending together. Considering I only knew a few of them, one would think I’d feel out of place, except I didn’t. Being around Ravage all my life came in helpful in these situations. I searched for Crow, not seeing him through the throngs of leather.
When all eyes turned to me, I tried recognizing them all with a small smile, but continued to look for Crow. Finally spotting him at the end of a row of chairs, I marched directly to him, the crowd parting as needed. None of the brothers said a word, but they didn’t take their attention from me one bit. It was normal for them to feel for their brethren, and a strange woman coming up to their president warranted it. They’d protect him until their death.
The guys Crow introduced me to at the greasy spoon nodded at me as well, but said nothing. Everything was somber.
Crow’s head was down, elbows to knees. I was learning this was his pose when something hit him in the feeling zone, when he couldn’t take much more and just needed space. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be getting space here. Placing my hand on his shoulder, his head shot up, anguish all over him.
One look at me and he jumped up from the chair and wrapped me in his arms so damn tight I could barely breathe, his face going into my neck. This seemed to be his thing with me. Even with how tight he held me, I wouldn’t push him away for anything. I held him right back trying to absorb his pain so it didn’t hurt so bad. I’d been here in this exact spot when Grandpa was hit and flipped off his motorcycle.
That unknown feeling. The guessing game of what could’ve happened different. The what-ifs that wouldn’t just shut the hell up in your head. All of it.
He was sucking in deep breaths, and each time he did it tickled my skin. This was what he needed, and I was honored to be the one to give it. We held each other there for a long time. Neither of us wanting to let go. So long the people around us began to talk in low tones.
Crow’s grip on me never changed.
“Mr. Blaine’s family,” I heard someone speak from the side, and Crow’s head popped up turning to the sound. He grabbed my hand tight and pulled me with him to the doctor, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in close to his side. A place I was coming to love.
He was young, like Doogie Houser young. I watched the TV reruns sometimes, sue me. It was a good show.
The devastating news was written all over his face. He tried to mask it, but did a shit job at it. It was one job I’d never want to do in my lifetime. Breaking families up and learning to grieve, no thank you. My heart ached, cracked, and bled for Crow. He was going through so much and add this to the mix of feelings he was trying to deal with, I was surprised he was able to hold himself together. It just spoke to the strength that was Crow.
“I’m his son,” Crow said, pulling me into him tighter, and I wrapped my arms around his waist giving him comfort, or at least trying. At least he knew I was here for him and that was all anyone could do at this point. His brothers gathered around us.
“We did everything we could do, but we couldn’t save him.” Crow jerked like the doctor hit him in the gut with a sledgehammer. If he didn’t bend over and puke, I’d be surprised. Even tough men had feelings, and losing a loved one was one of those that never felt good or went away. Another thing we had in common, and I hated that for him. “He suffered a heart attack, but with his condition, he didn’t have long.” The man carried on with his voice cracking a bit under the weight of what he was telling all of us.
“What do you mean?” Crow asked, his hand tightly gripping my shoulder.
The doctor looked at Crow like he was crazy. Like he should know something that he obviously didn’t. “The new protocol meds with chemo treatment wasn’t working to get rid of the cancer. He was only given a few more months to live. Add in his previous heart condition and the odds were not in his favor.”
This time Crow let me go and crashed into a chair that groaned in protest with his weight. He was stunned, shaken, and shattered. A feeling I knew all too well and hadn’t diminished one bit. I knew that pain and hurt. There was nothing I could do for Crow but be there for him. That was all anyone could do.
The doctor kept talking, looking down at Crow who was unfocused. “We won’t be doing an autopsy.”
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. He’s gone,” Crow said immediately.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the doctor said quickly and left the waiting room, everyone standing there stunned by the news.
I fell in the seat next to him, but didn’t touch him. Some people needed to be alone to figure things out. While others needed comfort. If Crow needed me, he knew I’d be there for him. Everyone grieved differently, and you had to respect that.
“Sophia, now’s not the time,” I heard a male voice say and turned to it. The woman next to him was gorgeous, beyond beautiful. Long chestnut hair that fell down her back like
a sheet of satin and glowed in the fluorescent lights of the room. Perfect eyes that were wide and lashes long. She had on a t-shirt and jeans, but you would’ve thought she was walking the runway. There was nothing about her that screamed biker chick at all, but she was something to Crow.
Brewer stepped in her path just as I heard Greer. “I want to see my dad.”
Shit. That was Greer’s mother. That meant Crow was with this beauty of a woman. Jealousy had never been my thing, but hell it was hard to turn off that nasty switch. She was beyond words. Why in the world did he have me in his bed, when he had that?
“Let ‘em,” Crow said from the chair, not getting up, the blow too much for him. Greer sat next to him on the other side, and only then did Crow turn to his son. It was uncanny the resemblance between them. Yet, I wasn’t sure where Greer got that vicious attitude from. Crow never showed me that side of him, but being a teenager myself, I knew we could all have issues.
“He’s gone, boy. Heart attack.” Greer’s face twisted in disbelief and hurt, but as he looked around the room at all the men in it, he locked it down somehow. That was hard for a full-grown adult let alone a young boy to do. It was something that actually impressed me and, let’s be honest, the kid had a long way to go for that.
“Crow.” Sophia’s voice was delicate like a flower ready to bloom in the spring. A song that could cure worldwide famine or diseases.
Crow rose and wrapped Sophia in his arms exactly how he did me only moments ago burying his face in her neck as well. She returned it holding him close. The knife sliced through my heart in one go. That want or need he had, it wasn’t for me and me only. It wasn’t my neck he wanted to be buried in. It was for anyone who would console him with all the agony he was feeling.
Fuck. That killed, but like everything else, I pushed it down.
I refused to allow the bitterness and pain to win. Not right now anyway.
It wasn’t the time to be feeling this way, but the crushing feeling was more real than I’d ever experienced. They had a story I wasn’t privy to. It was long and deep with a child in the mix. It also made me feel like a third wheel, something I didn’t like one bit.
Crow pulled back, and Sophia’s eyes came to mine. Surprise then shock registered in them, but neither of us said anything.
I knew what I thought though. Get your fucking hands off of him. At least that was my first reaction. There was this instant feeling to erase Crow and Sophia’s history together because she meant something to him.
It wasn’t my place, and it wasn’t the time.
Instead, she turned and spoke to Crow who still had his hands on her arms. “You need to go home and start making plans. If you need my help I’m a phone call away.”
“Thanks, Soph,” Crow responded, giving her arms a squeeze. Couldn’t say that didn’t score a direct hit either, but it did. She was a comfort to him and had been in his life for at least sixteen years. That was a lot of history. It scored inside my heart. She loved him. She wanted him. She needed him.
Insecurity built inside me. This was an uncommon emotion for me. Like a seed being watered, the feelings grew the more I studied Sophia and Crow.
She had a piece of him.
And I had no doubt that she would have him again.
5
Crow
Death. Each one of us in the Ravage MC knew the score signing on to be in this club. There was a risk the reaper would come calling, especially with the fucked-up shit we did to earn a living. That the deals we made could turn on us at any given time. That allies could become enemies in a flash.
Even knowing all of that, it didn’t matter the club won out.
Except none of that took him from me. None of that took him from us. He was once a leader in this club. He was a solid man and gave me a foundation to build my life on.
Now though he was gone. It could’ve happened anytime from anything.
Still, that knowledge didn’t lessen the blow of losing someone and having them wiped off the earth forever. No matter how you looked at it, death was official. Final and all-consuming in the grief department.
Sitting on the couch with a beer in my hand, my eyes stared at the television not seeing a damn thing that played on the screen. Rylynn’s head laid on my stomach, her fingers drawing small circles under my shirt.
The touch was nice, but I couldn’t find the comfort in it because the guilt was overrunning me. The knowledge that telling my dad he wasn’t my biological father was too much for him. It was what caused his heart attack. It was selfish of me to want to know if he knew about it and push him like I did.
If I hadn’t, he would still be here and we’d get to enjoy a few more months with him. There would be no plans being made to bury him into the ground. There would be no celebration being set up to honor him.
He’d be here sitting on the couch, watching a game, and getting to meet Rylynn. Now, he’d never meet her. He’d never see his grandkids grow up and become the adults they would one day become. Fuck, that hurt so damn bad and knowing I played a role in it, fucking killed.
The doorbell rang. Rylynn rolled off me, my sweatpants having a very difficult time staying up on her. She was tiny compared to me. “Got it,” she called, and I kept quiet.
My brothers wanted to come over tonight, but I told them I needed some quiet. They respected that, even put measures in place to keep it that way.
Rylynn opened the door with one of her beautiful smiles. The delivery guy smiled wide back at her as she handed him some cash and took the bags from him with a “Thanks.” She shut the door and locked it. Even telling her a hundred times that I wasn’t hungry she insisted on getting food.
There was no energy left to argue. She wanted to try to feed me, so be it. Didn’t mean any of it would be touching my mouth.
Rylynn shuffled off to the kitchen where plates and silverware clanked around.
The front door opened once more, and I heard Rylynn, “Here, Ethan. Thanks for keeping a lookout.”
“Thanks,” he responded and she shut the door, locking it once again. Since telling the guys I needed to be alone, they put Ethan out on watch to kick people to the curb. The fact that Rylynn was taking care of him too, showed of her character and was one more thing to love about her. This was a life few understood. This was a life not many women could fit into, but she did and she did it well.
When she came to the living room with two plates full of Chinese food, I didn’t want it.
Surprisingly, she didn’t pressure me. Instead, she set the plate on the small table where we kept the remotes, then sat back in the couch with her plate and began to eat.
The smell hit me, and my stomach rumbled. Fuck. I was hungry. Reaching over, I snatched the plate up and began eating chicken, beans, and rice. Again, Rylynn said nothing, just let me do my thing at my own pace. She didn’t have a smartass comment about how she was right or anything. Her restraint was admirable.
The food was good, but didn’t stop the emptiness I felt. Again, without a word, Rylynn took my plate and hers into the kitchen, coming back with two beers. She handed one to me, and it was half gone in the blink of an eye.
In my life, there were lots of crazy things I’d had to do. Never once did anything ride on me like this, making me feel guilty and lost. I’d always been one to know what I wanted and went for it. Right now, I just didn’t know what end was up and what was down.
Rylynn took her spot back on the couch, laying her head on my abs, my fingers going into her hair. They sifted through over and over again.
“I feel like my world has been rocked to the point that I don’t know who I am anymore.” The words came out quiet, but held so much meaning.
Rylynn’s head didn’t move and when she didn’t say something right away, I thought she’d gone to sleep. Then she spoke. “You know exactly who you are, Crow. You’ve spent thirty-three years becoming the man you are today. Your dad knew who you were and wanted you to run the club.”
“How’
d you know that?”
“People talk.” She shrugged. “Everything you are today is because of your father, this club, and your experiences. While finding out the truth of your biology was a blow, it didn’t change one thing about the father you’ve known for thirty-three years.”
My fingers stilled for a moment then started again. “If I wouldn’t have questioned him about it, he wouldn’t have had the heart attack.” There, I finally allowed the words to tumble out.
She shifted, her chin twisting so she met my eyes. “Don’t do that to yourself.” She paused as if she was truly thinking through her next words. “When my grandpa was killed, he was out on a family ride celebrating Pops and that he made it through his heart attack and being shot. All out enjoying the weather. Then a car runs into his trike sending two people flying in the air.” She pauses.
“Now what if Pops needed another day to recover and the ride wasn’t until the next day. Or what if my grandpa decided not to go that day and stayed home. Or what if it rained instead of it being sunny. All the what ifs will drive you batshit crazy, Crow. I know. I’ve thought of every single one of them, replaying the last things I said to him, what could I have said to keep him away from the ride? But you know what, I’ve come to a conclusion. There was nothing that could have been different, and it happened exactly as it was supposed to have. Does it rip my heart out, yes. Will it rip me apart for a long time, yes. But living with the guilt of could’ve, would’ve, should’ve isn’t what your dad would want for you.”
Needing oxygen, I sucked in a deep breath but it did nothing to soothe the ache inside. “I feel like I killed him.” The weight was holding me down, the room was closing in. Hell, every breath was harder and harder to take.
Rylynn moved quickly off me, kneeling in front of me her hands to both sides of my cheeks forcing me to pay attention to her. “You did no such thing, Crow. Listen to me right now. Life has strange ways of working, but I believe down to my soul that you did not cause your father’s death. A faulty heart and cancer killed your father. He loved you. I can tell by the way you talk about him. He would not want you to carry this on your shoulders or feel this even a tiny bit. Don’t let his death be in vain.”