by S. L. Scott
I’m quick to my feet to answer. I open the door to one of Jet’s brothers. I remember seeing him when they played live.
“Uhh,” he starts, clearly confused by why I’m here. His lighter eyes and hair contrast the dark of Jet’s, but his skin has that same golden brown even in winter. He might be shorter than his older brother, but if he is, it’s not by much, and his muscle mass makes up for it. “Is Jet here?”
“Yes.”
His hands go to his head and then blow out. “Whoa, I was not expecting you.” Offering his hand, he says, “We haven’t met, but I’m Jet’s brother, Tulsa. You’re Hannah, right?”
“Yes,” I reply, starting to feel a little ridiculous mimicking myself. I shake his hand and then open the door a little wider. “He’s sleeping, and I was watching Alfie—”
“Alfie’s here?” he asks, leaning to the side to peek around me. A huge smile, his emotions written all over him, another contrast to his brother, shines when he spies Alfie. “Alfred, my man.”
“Uncle Tulsa!”
Alfie runs to him. “Guess you two have become friends.”
“Fast friends,” Tulsa replies, swinging Alfie onto his back.
“Tulsa’s my uncle,” Alfie adds, reaching to touch the roof of the front porch.
“He is,” I say, smiling. I’m impressed by how close they’ve become in such a short time. My father was never there for Alfie, and he doesn’t have any other male relatives nearby. He deserves this family, this love and acceptance. “You can come in if you’d like.”
He turns and sticks two fingers in his mouth, an earsplitting whistle following. “My brother,” he says, shrugging.
The third Crow brother catches my eyes when he gets out of the SUV and strides up the sidewalk with the phone to his ear. By the time he reaches the porch, he looks back and forth between the two of us, trying to figure out the situation, and then smiles at Alfie. “My man. I didn’t know we’d get the pleasure. How are you, buddy?”
“I got to be line leader today, Uncle Rivers.”
“No way,” he replies acting shocked and feeding the story. I’m kind of falling for all three of these guys because of their sweetness for Alfie.
Alfie laughs, delighted in the attention. “Way. And if Lucy is sick tomorrow, I get to do it again.”
“Whoa! Fingers crossed that Lucy is si—” His eyes dart to mine, but when he sees my displeasure, he adds, “Makes a speedy recovery.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Nice save.”
“Rivers Crow and you’re Hannah. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh?” Wonder if Jet has talked to them about me.
“We haven’t met, but I’m sorry for your loss.”
I’m kind of taken aback by how thoughtful he is. “Thank you. Jet is sleeping, but you’re welcome to wait inside if you’d like.”
Tulsa tells Alfie to duck, and they move inside. I follow with Rivers behind me who shuts the door. Alfie is set on his feet, and Tulsa walks with purpose down the hall. Yikes.
Rivers starts laughing when Tulsa barges into the back bedroom and shouts, “Get up, fucker.”
“Fuck, Tulsa,” Jet yells. “Get the fuck out.”
I’m not quick enough to cover Alfie’s ears. His eyes go wide, and he looks at me. I say, “Do not repeat those bad words ever. Got it, kid?” He nods his head, making me smile. “Good boy.”
Rivers has helped himself to a juice box. When I eye him, he says, “Alfie’s a great kid. It’s been fun getting to know him.”
“His mom did a great job with him.”
“And you. Jet’s talked about how much you’ve done for him.”
Pulling Alfie close, I wrap my arms around him as he leans his back on me. “He has?”
“All the time. We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m curious what you’ve—”
Tulsa runs through the living room and out the back door, calling behind him, “C’mon, Alfie. Your dad is a bear today.”
Just as Alfie runs out the door, chasing Tulsa, Jet comes from the dark of the hallway. Good grief, he does things to me, things that I hope I can hide from his brothers—things like my throat going suddenly dry and causing me to shift as my body becomes a traitor to me and an ally to him.
And then he winks, and my hands go to cover my heating cheeks. I want to run to him, to cling to his bare chest and chiseled abs, to run my fingers through his sex god hair, and to kiss him until we’re falling into bed again. The best part is he’s looking at me the same way.
Head tilted down, he’s rubbing the back of his neck, hiding that smirk, but eyes directed at me, he’s taking me in head to toe. I just wish I was wearing something cuter than a pair of old ripped jeans and a baggy T-shirt.
I almost forgot Rivers was here until he clears his throat and says, “Yeah, um, so I’ll go check . . . I’ll just go out back.”
As soon as the door closes, I run to Jet and mount him. With my legs wrapped around his middle and his hands squeezing my ass, we kiss. We kiss until our eyes close and time disappears. We kiss until our tongues mingle and our hearts beat faster. My back hits the wall, and he readjusts me, but just the feel of being pressed against his hard muscled body makes me want so much more. Through panting breaths and hands running through his thick hair, I whisper, “You turn me on so much.”
His unshaven cheek scrapes my cheek as he runs his nose along the underside of my ear. “You smell so fucking delicious. You think they’ll miss us if we disappear for a while?”
My legs tighten around him, and I wiggle, wanting the friction but needing the payoff. “Yes.”
The back door squeals in protest when it opens. “Is it clear in here?”
Tulsa.
Jet and I exchange the same sexually frustrated look. I drop my legs, and he tugs the hem of my shirt back into place. After stealing a kiss, he smiles before calling out, “All clear.”
He starts to walk away, but at least I get a good view of his ass in those jeans. I slap it, and when he turns back in surprise, I shrug.
“Paybacks are hell, Hannah.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
The guys and Alfie file back inside, and Rivers says, “The band’s coming over.”
Jet starts the coffee pot. “What are you talking about? You guys are already here and need to leave. I’m just kicking it with Alfie and Hannah tonight.”
I see the way they’re looking at him and then at me, trying to figure out what’s going on. Considering I’m not even sure what’s happening between us, I wish them luck. If they find out, maybe they’ll let me know.
In the meantime, I like whatever this is that’s happening. Our relationship is growing, evolving into something new, something without anger or emotional bullets waiting to be fired.
When I look at Jet now, I see that guy I met so long ago, the guy I would have fallen for if I had stayed. At the time, that’s why I had to go.
Last night, I’m glad I stayed.
Rivers says, “You really need to get some food in this place.”
Tulsa is popping grapes, my grapes, he took from the colander near the sink. “The Resistance. They wanted a place to jam, so they’re coming over later.”
I’m stuck on the fact that I don’t have much money left, and he’s eating all my grapes when my mind rewinds, and I understand what he actually said. Wait, what? I do a double take. “The who?”
“Not The Who,” he says, laughing. “The Resistance.”
“The band? They’re coming here?”
Jet says the last part in unison with me, but I have a feeling it’s for different reasons.
Alfie jumps up and tries to catch a grape with his hand. “Who’s resistance?
Tulsa replies, “It’s a famous band.”
“Like you guys?” Alfie follows up.
Rivers rubs Alfie’s head as he walks by. “Band. Yes.” He bends down. “Are you gonna play guitar with us?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” he says, rubbi
ng his chin, which is stinkin’ adorable. “I like drums.”
Tulsa’s arm flies up. “Yes, I win.”
Rivers rolls his eyes and adds, “The only time you play drums is by default, Tulsa. Hey Alfie, you hang with me, and I’ll show you how your dad taught me to play.”
Alfie turns to Jet, who’s nearby. “You teached Rivers?”
“Taught,” Jet corrects with a smile. “I taught both my little brothers how to play.”
When it comes to Jet, he hung the stars, according to Alfie. At first, I thought it was just because he was happy to have another male around since he’d always been around women. But it’s not that. I see the love he has for him already. The way he looks up to him, not just because he’s taller, but because he truly admires him.
Tulsa and Rivers have the same admiration in their expression when they look at their big brother. But Jet makes it really easy to admire him. He’s kind, generous, and attentive. And if his brothers are anything to go by, Alfie is going to be a fine man, too.
Alfie’s happiness is contagious. He lights up a room without any effort. He’s just him, and we all love him for it. But it’s not just him who’s lucky. It’s me. I’m not treated like an outsider or the enemy. I’m treated like a part of the family.
This could have so easily been Cassie. They would have loved her and accepted her into their clan as they’ve accepted me. It makes me sad to think about me reaping the rewards because of the struggles she went through.
20
Jet
“I’m getting drunk.” Tilting my head back, I look for the stars between the clouds. Hannah, who’s sitting on a lawn chair next to me, laughs loud enough to get everyone’s attention, causing me to laugh. Rolling my head to the side, I say, “You’re getting drunk, too.”
“I already am.” Her eyes are glazing over. Her hands are not covert like she insisted we be this morning. Instead, she’s been rubbing the top of my leg, her fingers occasionally dipping between my thighs, getting precariously close to touching a part of me that I won’t be able to disguise much longer behind this guitar.
The conversation picks back up around the fire we built to keep us warm this chilly March night. It’s nothing compared to the fire pit in Ojai, but it’s served us well many times before.
Alfie went to bed hours ago, and we have each checked on him several times since.
Hannah invited her friend, Dave, over. I’ve heard a little about him, and he seems nice enough. Plays guitar, which is cool. Friendly and fits in with the group without handholding from Hannah.
She chatted with him for a bit early on, but when we pulled out our guitars, he showed his talent. He definitely knows his way around the strings. “Dave, why aren’t you in a band?” I ask.
“Bad past and haven’t found the right band. You guys needing a new guy?”
Tulsa laughs. “We have more guitarists than we know what to do with.”
“I’ve seen you guys play a few times. You’re good.”
Johnny says, “They’re great. It’s time the rest of the world hears The Crow Brothers’ music.”
They start playing a Stevie Ray Vaughn song, and I glance at Hannah. She was starstruck when she first met the guys, but fuck, so was I. A few hours later, her eyes have been stuck on me as if the other guys don’t even exist. I fucking love it. It turns me on to see how much she wants me; her lustful thoughts are felt through the way she touches me with intention and how deep blue her eyes can be.
Johnny transitions from Vaughn to Van Halen, attempting Eddie’s infamous “Eruption” solo. When he starts laughing, he stops playing and pretends to toss his guitar into the fire. “Fuck. I’m too drunk for this.”
I say, “I think we’ve all tried it. Eddie’s a genius. I don’t feel worthy to carry his equipment, much less attempt that solo.”
Tulsa stands and gives it a shot.
Laughing, Tommy says, “That hurts my Van Halen loving heart, man. Stop torturing that song.”
With Dave here tonight, five guitarists are jamming. It’s fucking awesome to shoot the shit and make music with these guys. But this guy earns full respect when he starts the solo and almost makes it to the end before he looks up and realizes we were gawking at him. He shifts in his chair and says, “I’ve practiced a few times.”
I reach my hand forward. We shake, and I say, “That was awesome.”
“Thanks.”
Hannah playfully jabs him. “You should be in a band again. You’re too good not to play.”
“I play. I just don’t get paid.”
Johnny says, “You should get paid. You’re really good. If you’re open to gigs or studio opportunities, I’ll let you know if I hear of anything.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I heard all I need. I’m happy to recommend you.”
“Thanks, man. I think you just made my life.”
“I haven’t done anything yet, but if I can I will.”
Rivers gives it a go before I mutilate it. We’re all blaming the beer, having too good of a time to care if we nail it or not.
When everyone’s distracted by another song, I lean over to whisper in Hannah’s ear. “What you failed to see is that I crave your sharp edges and chipped corners. I’ll be the glue for you, but I like you how you are.”
A warm caressing hand soothes my cold cheek. “Broken?”
“You’ve never been broken to me.”
“Jet?” It’s not sweet Hannah’s voice, but another person saying my name.
Shit. I know before I even turn back to find out. Looking over Hannah’s head, Marcy is just a few feet away—hands twisting together nervously. Seeing her is sobering. I stand. “What are you doing here?”
The silence of the group is palpable. I want to look at Hannah, to check on her, knowing this has ruined a good night. I don’t, though. I go to Marcy to lead her back out the way she came in through the side gate. But I stop when a guy comes around the corner. What the fuck?
He’s all smarmy smile and too skinny to hold the joint I can smell he’s been smoking. “Fuck, man. You’re hard to track down. Jet Crow. Fuck, you’re a badass.”
I may have had some drinks, but every red flag is flying high over this guy. “Who are you?”
“Oh, damn. Let me introduce myself. Hunter Hix.” He drags his hand down the front of dirty pants before holding it out to me.
There’s no way in fuck I’m touching him unless it’s to throw him out. I look at Marcy. “Did you bring him here?”
“I’m sorry, he—”
“This is my home.”
Rivers comes up behind me. “Why don’t I walk you out? We’ll go back this way.”
Hunter shrugs away from my brother. “I’m not doing any harm. Just talking to another musician, an artiste, like myself.” Looking past me, he acts like he didn’t know Johnny Outlaw would be here. He acts like Marcy didn’t sell my information to him to put on this act like he’s our best friend and not here to see their band.
But when I see him staring, I follow his gaze. It’s not on Johnny like I suspected. It’s on Hannah, who’s frozen in horror with her hand over her mouth and her eyes as wide as the night sky. I’ve seen Hannah wary, I’ve seen her sad, but this? This is pure terror. Who the fuck is he, and what did he do to her?
She begins to shake, so I look at my brother. “Tulsa.” I don’t need to say anything else to him. He heard the command, could see her distress. He grabs her hand and rushes her toward the back door. I push Hunter with my hands on his chest, backing him out of my yard. “Get the fuck out.”
Marcy’s hanging on my arm and crying. “I’m sorry. He made me. He made me.”
Hunter spits, “Get the fuck off me. You’re just as useless as that fucking bitch.”
I stop. “What did you just say?”
“The bitch likes it rough. Likes to be slapped, although I doubt you’d know about that. Frigid cunt.”
When my gaze shifts to Marcy, she tries to grab Hunter’s arm to
pull him away from us. Before I can even move, he slaps her so hard across the face that she falls to the ground. “You’ll get more of that later.”
The fuck?
He grunts, “I didn’t get to meet Outlaw.”
Fuck him. Shoving him to the ground, I finally connect some dots. A musician. Hannah’s reaction. He hit her? Slapped her? I’m about to pummel him when my brothers yank me backward. “I’m going to fucking destroy you,” I yell, my voice booming. Anger courses through every muscle in my body, driving me forward to obliterate his punk ass.
I’m grabbed again and pulled backward. It’s not my brothers that keep me back.
It’s Hannah.
She runs in front of me and pushes her hands against my chest. “Jet, don’t. Please. He’s not worth it.”
Everyone surrounds me, but I never take my eyes off him. Hannah whispers, “Please don’t hit him. Think of Alfie—”
I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing and calm down.
Alfie.
Alfie.
Alfie.
When I look into her eyes, I see her secret. I can see how much she cares about me. I say, “He hurt you. He hit you.”
Hunter spits, “Pussy!”
She touches my cheek. “He can’t touch me now, but he can ruin everything for you.”
Marcy’s scream startles us. Her hands are over her mouth, and she crawls toward Hunter. He’s staring up and touching his nose before I realize what has happened.
Standing over him, Johnny cracks his knuckles. “Motherfuckin’ asshole. Get the fuck out of here before we call the cops.”
As Hunter struggles to get up, he shouts, “I’m calling the cops on you for assault. I’ll own that fucking Hollywood mansion of yours when I’m done suing you.”
“I said get the fuck out of here.” Johnny’s anger is palpable.
“I’ll get you for assault—”
“You’ll get him for nothing, Hunter.” Dave steps up out of the shadows. “We have more on you. Hannah barely survived what you did to her in Dallas.” What the fuck? I look at her, and I think it’s only her anger keeping her upright at the moment.
“You’ve got nothing on me, traitor.”