Down & Dirty: Crow: Dirty Angels MC, book 10

by St. James, Jeanne

  And if more members popped up like roaches, Diesel would make sure those were squashed, as well. Even if he had to do it with his own big-ass biker boot.

  D’s voice was low and actually quiet for once when he said, “Know what Mercy did was fucked up. He don’t see it as such. Tryin’ to show Jazz he’s doin’ his fuckin’ best to make all the women, all the kids, safe. We all are. Figured if Jazz saw the proof she’d rest easier.”

  “Wasn’t good, D.”

  “Fuckin’ saw it, so I know. Promise to have words with ‘im. Tell ‘im to keep his distance from Jazz. He’s encroachin’ on your claim an’ that ain’t right.”

  “She ain’t mine to claim,” he said quickly.

  “The fuck she ain’t. She rolled back into town an’ right to you, brother. Not her grandparents, not Hawk. Nobody. Right to you.”

  “For ink.”

  D shook his head. “No. That was her excuse. Only one reason. We all saw the real reason when she was up on the fuckin’ stage singin’ to you. You, brother. We saw it. You saw it. She came home to you.”

  No, she was using him for ink, using him to work through her issues. That was it. And he was allowing it.

  Though, he was glad she came to him for what she needed. Because if she’d come back and he had to sit back and watch her with someone else...

  “Brother, were a lucky fucker an’ avoided gettin’ stuck all these fuckin’ years. No more avoidin’ it.”

  There was no sticking to be had. “She’s too young.”

  “Yeah. Agreed. She’s too fuckin’ young. She’s too young for Mercy, too. But that didn’t stop him from offerin’ her a fucked-up prize for her attention. He’d never win, ‘cause she only got eyes for you.”

  Crow opened his mouth to argue but D lifted a palm and stopped him.

  “Need to get gone an’ go take care of your woman. Go undo the damage Mercy did. He meant well but screwed the fuckin’ pooch doin’ it.”

  D was right. He needed to get gone.

  While he trusted Diamond to take care of Jazz, she shouldn’t be.

  That was his job.

  * * *

  Crow walked Diamond to the door. Before he opened it, he took her in his arms. Holding her always calmed him. And the same for her. No matter what Slade had thought, it was never sexual, they were just each other’s rock. He had no idea when that happened, it just did.

  “Thanks, baby doll,” he whispered, lightly touching her stomach as his thoughts turned to the picture of her on that Warrior’s cell phone...

  He wondered if he should give Slade the heads-up or if D would. Someone needed to watch her carefully and the best person for the job would be her ol’ man. Especially since he was a beast when it came to using his fists.

  “She did a shot,” she whispered back. “I made her do a second one. She was a mess until the whiskey went through her. She calmed down then. Wish I could’ve done more. Sorry, honey.”

  Diamond pulled out of his arms and reached for the door handle.

  “Baby doll...”

  She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.

  “You think she’s mine?”

  Diamond simply smiled, opened the door and left without a word.

  Fuck.

  Crow stood staring at the door for a minute, inhaled a few breaths to bolster himself, then headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

  Diamond had met him downstairs after he entered from the garage, so he knew Jazz was currently soaking in his jacuzzi tub. At least someone got some use out of it. He didn’t have time to wallow around in a bunch of bubbles.

  But if some whiskey and warm water worked to calm Jazz down, then whatever...

  The door to the bathroom was cracked open and he pushed it wider. She never heard him since the pulsing jets were loud enough to drown out his footsteps, but he didn’t want to surprise her.

  “Kachina,” he said softly over the rumble of the tub.

  Her head had been leaning back against the edge, the ends of her hair falling into the cloudy water, her eyes closed.

  “Kachina,” he said again, gently, as he stepped closer to the tub. Her head lifted, and she blinked open her eyes in what looked like slow motion.

  “This is an awesome tub,” she said so sluggishly that he thought she might be drunk.

  “You have more than two shots?”

  She shook her head, her hair dragging through the water as she did so. “No.”

  He blew out a relieved breath because he needed to discuss what happened with her and he didn’t want to do it if she was wasted.

  He knelt on the tile floor next to the jacuzzi, the knees of his jeans instantly becoming soaked, but he didn’t give a fuck.

  “Shouldn’t you be at the shop?” Again, her question was lethargic, which worried him.

  “Need to be here with you instead.”

  “I’m fine.”

  No, you’re far from fuckin’ fine.

  “You need to run your business. This is the second time I’ve fucked that up for you.”

  While that was true, that shit didn’t matter to him.

  She did.

  He reached into the tub and grabbed her hand, lifting it above the water. The tips of her fingers were already wrinkled from soaking too long. It also wasn’t good that she was sitting in a tub when she had fresh ink. “Kachina, I’m strugglin’ right now. I’m fuckin’ pissed you went with him again.” He lifted his other hand to stop her from interrupting him. “Let me fuckin’ finish. Know that Diamond knew where you were headed. But if she hadn’t been out there, no one woulda known. Again.” He tried desperately to keep the anger from his words.

  “I would have texted you.”

  “Well, that’s a fuckin’ relief,” he muttered, not feeling relieved at all. “My point is, goin’ off with Mercy... Nothin’ good could come of that. Nothin’.”

  “He’s persuasive.”

  Crow closed his eyes and tried not to snap out on her. “He’s fucked in the head.” When he opened his eyes, she was searching his face, so he did his best to hide the worry and anger.

  “You said he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “An’ that’s true. He wouldn’t.” At least not physically. But emotionally? Maybe not intentionally, but what happened earlier was in no way good for Jazz.

  “He asked if you claimed me,” she said so quietly, he wondered if he heard her correctly above the noise of the jets.

  “What?”

  She focused her green eyes on him, her pupils bigger than they should be. “He asked if you claimed me.”

  This time there was no doubt about what he heard. “He’s got a thing for you.”

  And for fuck’s sake, that was something that ate at him even more than anything else. Diamond had given him a play-by-play of what occurred on his own fucking deck. Mercy had the fucking balls to come to his house, stand on his deck and make a fucking play.

  “Yeah,” she breathed.

  He studied her, her pale skin barely visible under the cloudy water. Looking small and vulnerable in that tub, he could see why a man like Mercy would feel the urge to protect her. Or whatever the motive was in his fucked-up head.

  The ends of her blonde hair were soaked, her small, tight nipples peeking just above the water’s line. The rest of her exposed skin shined with whatever shit she had dumped into the tub to make the bubbles. He had no idea what, since he would never in his life buy bubble bath shit.

  He released the hand he had intertwined with his and it dropped like a rock under the water, almost as if she had no control of her muscles. She frowned and peered at him from under her damp dark blonde lashes.

  He thumbed a bead of water from the indentation above her lips. When they parted, he felt her warm breath against his fingers. He traced one over her top lip and then the curve of the bottom one, before brushing his knuckle across her damp cheek.

  He hit the button to turn off the jets and waited until the water settled. Now he could se
e all of her beneath the water. Her long legs, that little patch of hair at the V. The bottom curves of her tits. He sat back on his heels and forced himself to say, “Kachina, if you’re ready to move on, move on. I’m okay with that. That was the plan.”

  She sucked in a breath, but he continued before she could speak.

  He kept his voice low and calm. He didn’t want to sound like he was laying down the law, but he was laying down the law. “But what you will not do is move on with Mercy. He’s not for you.”

  “He’s not?” she asked in a whisper.

  Fuck no, he’s not. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Was she serious right now? Did he need to spell it out? “You need a man with a heart, a soul. Someone who’s gonna love you completely. Someone who’s gonna help you continue to heal, not drag you back down into the depths of hell. That ain’t him.”

  “Someone like that might be hard to find.”

  He had to force his next words, too. “You’ll find ‘im.”

  “And who will you find?” she asked softly.

  Nobody. He wasn’t planning on finding anyone. He already found her. She was right in front of him.

  “Stand up,” he ordered softly.

  She blinked those big eyes at him then she did as she was told, the bath water sluicing down her still willow-like body. He offered his hand and she took it. He helped her step out of the high-sided tub and then ordered, “Start the shower.”

  Without a word, she moved to the large frosted-glass standup shower and leaned in to turn on the faucet.

  Then she turned and watched him shed his clothes. First, his cut, what bound the DAMC together like family. He hung it carefully over the open bathroom door. Then his boots and socks. Followed by his jeans and tee.

  She said nothing, just focused on his actions while he never let his gaze fall away from her.

  His dick began to stir, but that wasn’t what this was about.

  His plan wasn’t to take her in the bathroom or the shower, not after what happened earlier. His plan was to just take care of her.

  He slipped the band from the bottom of his braid and his fingers moved along it, releasing the interlaced strands until his hair fell free along his bare back.

  He avoided touching her as he reached through the open shower door and tested the temp of the water.

  With a couple quick adjustments, he turned and guided her into the shower and under the spray with him.

  He turned her to face the water, her hair clinging to her face and shoulders, becoming darker as it got wet. Reaching for her shampoo that was tucked on a corner shelf, he popped it open, squirted a generous amount onto his palm and began to wash her hair.

  She groaned low as he took his time massaging her scalp, then made sure the length of it was completely clean before nudging her gently back under the spray. He rinsed her long strands until the water ran clear. Grabbing her body wash and her fluffy pink loofah, he soaped her up, then again rinsed her off.

  When she was clean, he rinsed himself off quickly before shutting off the faucet. He assisted her back out and left her on the little rug she had placed in front of the shower opening. Something new she had spent his money on. He had no idea when, since he’d never paid attention until that very moment that she was decorating his house little by little.

  It also hit him that the stuff she had picked out so far was perfect for him. Stuff, if he gave the smallest shit about decorating, he would’ve picked out for himself.

  Earth tones. Masculine. Not one feminine thing to be seen.

  He grabbed one of the new thick, clay-colored towels hanging from the nearby rack and carefully wrapped her up in it, gently patting her skin dry.

  She went to take over the task, but he brushed her hands away and shook his head. “No, Kachina. Let me do this.”

  Another stark realization came over him. Without even planning it, he was showing her what kind of man she needed. Someone who would take care of her. Be gentle, understanding and be appreciative of everything that was Jasmine.

  Not a man who would drag her ass in front of a Warrior about to die.

  He was showing her what kind of man she needed.

  But not him.

  Not Mercy, either.

  Someone good for her.

  Someone right for her.

  Someone who would love her like she should be loved.

  Jazz sat on the bed, still wrapped up all snuggly in the towel. Crow had one of his own, barely hanging onto his lean hips, his black hair damp and shiny as it fell down his back.

  After using his wide-toothed comb on his own hair, he quickly braided it back up and secured it with a black elastic band.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, his legs as wide as they could go while wearing the towel and he had moved her to perch between his thighs. Taking his time, he combed carefully through her hair, even though hers wasn’t nearly as long as his. Each knot, he untangled gently with his fingers, until he could smoothly run the comb through the length.

  Then he braided hers, too, his fingers working swiftly, expertly, until her hair was neatly plaited and secured.

  Besides those few words in the bathroom, they hadn’t said much.

  Now she sat in the center of his bed, her damp hair tightly braided, as he dropped his own towel and moved across the mattress on his hands and knees toward her.

  He reminded her of a mountain lion stalking his prey. His movement fluid, his golden body lean and strong. His eyes dark and intensely focused as he moved up and over her.

  The man had many sides. One moment soft and gentle, the next powerful and dominating. Though she had a feeling he kept the second part to a minimum with her. But she recognized it when his dominance would show itself, possibly when he didn’t realize it.

  She lost her breath, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he loosened her towel and began to peel it from her as he pushed her down onto the bed. He trapped her nipple in his mouth and the pull of his lips shot lightning all the way to the center of her core. She moaned, her back bowing as he switched, sucking the other in deeply, tugging on it with his lips, scraping the tip with his teeth. Circling, flicking with his tongue.

  Suddenly he was gone and rolling her off the towel and onto her belly. He tossed the towel off the bed and returned to press his smooth chest against her ass and that warm, wet tongue of his worked up her spine as he moved over her once again. Brushing her braid out of the way, he nipped at her shoulders and moved to the back of her neck, licking, sucking her heated skin.

  She could feel the tingling, the need for him, between her thighs. The more he cherished her body, the more the wetness grew.

  Out of the blue, she wondered if she’d be this responsive to anyone else. Someone like Mercy. Any man other than Crow.

  She trusted him.

  But would she trust or be comfortable doing this with someone else?

  If she wanted intimacy in the future, with a man other than Crow, she’d have to be accepting. Willing.

  Because this was only temporary. He said so more than once. Just until her tattoo was finished. Just until she was comfortable in her own skin again.

  So even though it was Crow’s weight pressing down on her legs and hips, even though it was his mouth and fingers pulling the reactions from her, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine someone else. Anyone else above her.

  Someone like Mercy. She tried to picture him doing the same things. But she could only see him standing in that warehouse. The same warehouse where that Warrior sat bound.

  She tried to retreat from that image and return her concentration to the man who really was in the room with her. In this bed. It wasn’t Mercy. It wasn’t a stranger.

  It was Crow.

  But the image of the Warrior was seared into her brain. She no longer saw Mercy. She no longer saw the warehouse. She only saw that man wearing that Shadow Warrior MC cut streaked with his own blood.

  SWMC.

  So many surgeries she
’d endured to try to remove those initials from her flesh. An attempt to remove them from her life.

  Crow rolled her onto her back once more, stretched her arms straight over her head and, as he sucked at the skin of her neck, his cock pressed hard into her thigh.

  Trailing his fingers lightly up her outstretched arms, she arched her back again, encouraging him to take one of her aching nipples into his mouth once more.

  He did.

  His fingers continued to move until they got to her wrists, where he circled them... and tightened...

  Every muscle in her body tightened, as well. Her eyes squeezed shut and she gasped when a flash of that nightmare blinded her.

  Squirrel squeezing her wrists painfully, like a vise, pinning them to the dirty floor.

  A flash.

  Black Jack kneeling between her spread thighs.

  A flash.

  Excruciating pain.

  Laughter.

  Unbearable pressure.

  Grunting.

  Trying to fight.

  A blow to her head.

  Her face.

  A kick to her ribs and the agonizing pain that followed.

  Fingers digging into her thighs.

  Something ripping her apart.

  Blood.

  Silence.

  Then finally... darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Kachina.”

  The darkness began to recede, but not fast enough.

  “Kachina, open your eyes.”

  She was trying to, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. Every muscle in her body felt like lead. Or as if she was being pulled into quicksand.

  Sinking deeper with each attempt to escape.

  No, she couldn’t let it swallow her up. She needed to fight to get back to the surface.

  She hadn’t been to this dark place in a long time.

  And she shouldn’t be there now. She was with Crow.

  Crow.

  Crow.