“Shit, I’m sorry.”
Crash helped her the rest of the way up, getting up himself and hugged her to him, kissing her forehead.
“Nothing to be sorry about. Go hang out with Axe until I get this shit taken care of, then we can get home.”
She didn’t say anything, but looked at him, kind of confused before walking out the door with Axe. He would think about what he said later, but now wasn’t the time. Kayla came in, but the door was left open. He didn’t doubt Rock was standing sentry right outside, ready to step in if things got out of hand.
“Why did you do it, Kayla?”
“I was protecting my sister.”
“That’s bullshit, and we both know it. You dragged Braya into this, not kicking and screaming, but still dragged her, just the same. You never needed either of us at that fucking bank. You also know damn well that isn’t what I’m talking about. Why didn’t you tell me about my sister and the connection to your father?”
“Because you would kill him.”
Crash wasn’t going to deny that statement.
“And you have a problem with that?”
“I want him to pay, I want him to suffer for what he did to me, for what he did to Evie.”
“Don’t say her name,” Crash barked, causing Kayla to flinch. He didn’t care. “How many conversations did we have about my sister and my guilt? How many times did we sit in your living room with you telling me I needed to let it go? That I had done all that I could?”
“Crash, I didn’t...”
“Stop,” Crash shook his head. “This isn’t going to end the way you want. He will never suffer enough for what he did to you or my sister, it isn’t possible. I can tell you, from personal experience, even if he did suffer like you want, the way you want, it won’t heal anything in you, won’t magically make the hurt go away. And it sure as fuck won’t do anything for me or my sister.
“What you did, how you set me up, I’ll never forgive. I’m not giving you anymore passes for what happened to you. If you were strong enough to plan this shit out, you're strong enough to deal with that shit and live with it.”
Crash walked out of the room briefly looking at Rock to see what the other man was going to do, but he only went to his woman. Tuck was waiting for him down the hall.
“What did you find out?”
“They had two people go to the bank and pick up the information Kayla had stashed. They staged it so it appears Braya was taken out. Stewart’s men have the information, but it isn’t the only copy. Shade has people watching, but you and I both know they aren’t going to do anything. The problem is we can’t either if they’re watching.”
“Do you buy all this bullshit? This fucking elaborate scheme?” Crash asked seriously, wanting to know Tucks opinion.
“Fuck no, it’s just another play. I’m assuming Talon wanted us busy and out of his and Perez’s business for a while, so he let it all play out.”
“It does create a problem, Prez. We’ve let too many people close. Kayla knows shit about the club no civilian should, and Tal’s a wild card.”
“Don’t I know it. As far as Kayla is concerned, I think our bases are covered. She knows what will happen if anything comes out about the club. I laid it out, so there is no mistake for Shade and Rock too. I have to hope with our history, Shade will keep her on a tight leash, but only time will tell.” Tuck shook his head. “Tal’s another problem, but I’ll deal with it.”
“Nah, man, I think it’s time you brought the club in to deal with it. You’ve been protecting him for a long time, it’s time you brought the brothers up to speed. They need to know because if he could play me this way just to buy himself some time, there’s no telling what he could do. I wasn’t close to him, considered him a brother but beyond that, nothing. You, Whisk, and Link have a shit ton more to lose if he decides to turn the tables. I got your back whichever way you choose to go with this, but let me tell you, this shit went down too perfect.”
Tuck didn’t say anything more about it, but Crash hoped like hell he considered his words.
“We done here?” Tuck asked.
“Damn straight. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Braya was so bored. It had been a month since they were in El Paso, and she was ready to pull her hair out. Being at the RBMC clubhouse had been interesting. She no longer had the same feelings she did first walking into the place. It was really, for lack of a better word, a clubhouse. People hung out with each other, chatting, having a few drinks, and the other side that had freaked her out so much, it was pretty tame when the RBMC didn’t have visitors from other clubs. Sure, there was still some freaky-deaky shit that went on over there, and a couple of members liked to partake in the activities, but for the most part, a lot of the people stuck to the bar side of the room—which Braya was thrilled to know had a separate entrance.
The club itself was unlike anything she had ever witnessed before; they were a large group of mismatched people who formed a family. The people were friendly, but she was firmly in the outsider camp, and she felt it. It wasn’t that she was mistreated because she wasn’t, but there was a vibe that clearly said she was tolerated, not accepted. That kind of hurt, but she understood. Crash tried to help, but with everything that went down, there was no fixing the situation. Only time would do that, but Braya was a short-term resident, which she was reminded of, on a daily basis, by one of the members.
The bounty for her hadn’t been lifted, which was why she was still with the RBMC. She had talked to Crash and even Tuck about it, but neither of them knew exactly why it was still active. The setup the boys in blue had performed at the bank seemed to work. By all accounts, Braya Collins was no more. Which created all kinds of other problems for her. Tuck and his team were working on a new identity for her, which was surreal. Her old life was gone, and once again, she needed to start over. Her job, her life. all of it was essentially gone, and Braya was a nonperson at the moment which, in a way, was freeing.
Crash and the guys were watching for any backlash from her family, but she had tried to tell them there wouldn’t be. When the McLoughlins let you go, they cut ties completely. It usually was blood in, blood out, just like with any other gangs, cults, or organized crime organizations, but Braya’s grandfather had given her a pardon or for lack of a better word, an exception. She chose to believe he felt Braya had already shed enough blood for their family. A small part of her wondered if her mother had heard about her death and mourned her even a little bit. She doubted it, but miracles happened every day, didn’t they?
Braya let out another long drawn-out sigh and peeked to see if Blade, or Santa as she thought of him, was looking at her. He wasn’t, but he had a big old smile on his face, so she knew she was getting to him. The next sigh was just for her. She could do and be anything she wanted. The problem was figuring out what that was. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to worry about her family or anyone else. She also felt safe. Being at the clubhouse with Crash, she knew nothing and no one could get to her, and she liked it. But the other side of that was it was temporary. Crash hadn’t made any moves to continue a romantic relationship with her, much to her disappointment, but they were becoming friends, close friends.
Someone sat down next to her, but she didn’t move her head off the bar top until she heard, “Okay drama queen, enough is enough. You're stealing my thunder and I don’t like it.” Braya smiled.
This woman was a treat. Layla wasn’t a member of the RBMC, she was one of the Ol’ Ladies’ sister, so maybe a de facto member, but she was a trip. The woman was wild, fun, and best of all, accepting. Braya turned her head but didn’t lift it. Layla just laughed and shook her head, putting her elbow on the bar top, her hand holding her cheek.
“Okay, I may let you use my title for the day, but you first have to tell me why I should.”
“I’m bored and contemplating life at the same time. It’s serious business, and Santa is ign
oring me,” Braya whined.
“Hmm?” Layla said. “Bored I can deal with, I can even get that big old softy to pay attention to you, but why in the hell would you even want to contemplate life? Just let it happen. That way, there are no expectations to let you down, and surprises are the spice of life.”
That was an odd statement, coming from Layla. She was a free spirit, that was for sure. Braya had heard more than a few stories about the woman’s antics since coming to the clubhouse, but shouldn’t everyone have some expectations about their life? Braya had always been goal oriented—figure out what you want and go for it, fight for it. But at the moment, she wasn’t in the mood for a philological discussion on life.
“And what you would suggest to alleviate my current state of boredom?”
“Well,” Layla said, sitting up and tapping her finger against her lips. “I would suggest Vegas. When me, Nona, Crash, and Kit went to crash Joey and Jinx’s wedding, it was a blast. We had so much fun, it was like balls to the walls the whole time.”
Layla kept talking, and Braya’s stomach dropped, making her feel sick. It was kind of stupid and a little naïve, but she didn’t like the idea of Layla, the one person besides Crash she connected to here in Defiance, and him being together. She knew the man was active with the ladies, he had told her as much early on, but it had never been in her face like it was at this moment. Sure, there had been a few women who had tried to get his attention over the last month, but while she was around, he either ignored them or told them straight out he wasn’t interested in what they had to offer. But Layla? Damn, that kind of hurt.
She and Crash had been getting closer and closer. Every night, they talked, watched movies, or just hung out playing pool with the other members of his club, and it was nice. Not even as close to as nice as she wanted it to be but still nice. He told her about Jewell and their doomed relationship. A part of Braya kind of wished she had slapped the other woman, for all the shit she put Crash through, like she had Kayla, but she was pretty sure, unlike Kayla, Jewell would have thoroughly kicked her ass. Plus, Crash had also told her because of all of this, he had finally forgiven the woman, which she had to admit was a good thing. But him telling her that had invoked this kind of jealousy in her. Even the fact he had considered a relationship with Kayla didn’t, which was weird but true. Deep in her bones, she knew Kayla wouldn’t have gone through with it. But Layla, she was everything that Braya was not—fun, free-spirited and a touch wild, not to mention, drop dead gorgeous. She could actually see Layla and Crash together.
“Uh oh!” Layla said. “What is that look for?”
Braya didn’t know if she should ask or not. A part of her knew she would always wonder, and if things happened between her and Crash, like she wanted desperately, she didn’t know if she was strong enough to deal with this. Thankfully, she didn’t have to.
“First,”—Layla put her hand on Braya’s shoulder—“don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, honey. It’s better that way. These guys, all of them, aren’t angels, by any means, and you know it deep down. Your man, the one you are pining for and wanting the long haul with, was one of the worst. He didn’t and hasn’t made any excuses for that, so you better pull up your big girl panties and just deal with the fact Crash has a past, a very sordid one.”
Braya put her head back down on the bar and groaned. She felt Layla’s breath near her ear and then heard.
“But I wasn’t one of the sordid chica.”
Braya let out another sigh, this one in relief and turned her head without lifting it so she could look at Layla.
“We are and will always be just friends, but that doesn’t mean you won’t run into other women who have had the pleasure of that man’s company. But honey, I have to tell you, I never thought I’d see the day Crash settled down. He was balls to the wall, partying, doing the shit these men do with everyone and anyone, and that is from my minimal time around the RBMC. But what I have seen since you’ve been here has changed my mind and given me hope,” Layla smiled brightly. “I might get myself one of these hot as fuck bikers and try it out for a while. I don’t think it's really my thing, but I could totally stand a few nights of fun if you know what I mean?”
Braya did and had done that one night of ecstasy. She had even thought that would be enough, but Layla was right. She wanted more, way more. She wanted to come home to that man every day or have him come home to her. She wanted what Tuck and Katie had or any of the other couples she had noticed at the RBMC—love, adoration, and commitment. Crash hadn’t made any moves besides a couple of hot kisses over the last month. One night, some heavy petting like fucking teenagers, which much to Braya’s disappointment, ended with Crash picking her up, walking to the door of the room she was staying in, opening it, and kissing her forehead before saying good night.
They both had changed in the last month, not in big or dramatic ways but changing just the same. Crash wasn’t as grumpy, rude, or explosive as much. He seemed content although when she mentioned that once, he’d said he would never be content with anything, not his life or the club because that meant there wasn’t anything left to achieve. Contentment to him meant stagnant, which to Braya was weird. She longed for contentment, but maybe he had a point, not that she would ever tell him that. The bastard would gloat, and that was one thing she didn’t find so charming about him. All in all, she hated to admit it, but she was smitten with the man, probably more like half in love with him. When this all ended, and they went on their separate ways, it was going to hurt, big time.
“What am I going to do?” Braya sat up and rubbed her forehead, looking at Layla. “I think I might be starting to fall in love with Crash. I can’t see my future without him in it.” Braya covered her face with her hands and moaned, “Shit, Layla, I’m one of those girls.”
“One of what girls?” a very masculine, very familiar voice said.
Braya didn’t look behind her, but Layla did.
“Hey Crash, looking good,” she smiled, then started to laugh like a loon, patting Braya on the back “Later,” she told Braya, but leaned closer and whispered, “Don’t sweat it hon, just let it happen how it’s meant to. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. But if he doesn’t get the hint, I suggest taking the bull by the horn or rather, the biker by the dick if you know what I mean.” Layla laughed again and left.
Crash sat next to her leaning forward on the bar stool looking at her.
“What was that all about?”
“Nothing, just Layla being Layla.” Braya felt kind of bad because she knew it was much, much more than that, but she just wasn’t ready to talk about it and possibly face the disappointment of Crash not feeling the same way.
“You know that chick is crazy, right? I don’t know how many drinks she has deliberately spilled on me. Fuck, I’ve started keeping extra shirts in my saddle bags just because of her.”
Braya smiled a little; she needed to lighten up and do what Layla had said, just let it happen A part of that now was teasing each other.
“You know she just wants to see you take your shirt off, maybe next time you should just,” she suggested, plucking at his tight white t-shirt, “take it off and save yourself the bath.”
“I would, but my woman seems to get a little possessive and grumpy, ” Crash smiled wickedly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Crash watched Braya as he said the words ‘his woman,’ hoping like hell she got the hint. The last month had been hell. He had a case of blue balls that would make even the toughest man he knew cry, and he knew some fucking tough men. She had been driving him nuts; every night they talked and fucking cuddled. Not even as a teenager had he put so much effort into a chick. He didn’t regret it, didn’t exactly want to change it, but he wanted to get on with it. Get on with whatever would come ofthe two of them. The flip side, he also wanted to do it right. He wanted a future with Braya, not just a quick fuck, and that meant time and effort, something he was not used to.
Bray
a still hadn’t told him what she planned to do once the bounty was lifted. He didn’t know if she would move away, and he would never see her again, or even if she possibly wanted to stay in Defiance with him. Plus, he had business he needed to attend to, specifically Duncan Stewart. It was one of the things he worried would make Braya run from him. She had been doing okay with the club and his life to this point, but she was getting the sugar-coated version of living in an MC. People were still wary of her, so everyone had been on their best behavior. That shit wouldn’t last forever.
Hell, he had to admit even he was toning it down, just to keep her a little longer. His life wasn’t for everyone, and he actually feared Braya would balk at the prospect of sticking around. He hated indecision, had always been a blunt mother fucker, but Braya brought out a softer side of him. He wanted to protect her, cherish her, and he wanted his patch on her back. This was a whole new experience, he loved and hated it at the same time.
Braya looked at him for a little while, worrying her lip with her teeth before.
“What are we doing here, Crash?”
He knew damn well she wasn’t talking about their location.
“Princess, I don’t think I’m the one who can answer that question.” Anything that happened from here on out was up to her. Their future, or lack of one, was all on her. All she had to do was make the choice, and he would take over, but she needed to make the damn choice.
“I don’t understand. Why not?” Braya’s cheeks were getting a little pink. He knew she wasn’t getting frustrated, not mad. It blew his mind he had actually taken the time to study a woman to understand what her different looks and expressions meant, but then again, this was Braya.
“It means the decision is yours, Braya,” he sid, not moving. “All you have to do is ask or walk away.”
“That simple, huh?” Braya cocked her head to the side and really looked at him. “What if I ask for something you’re not willing to give?”
Crash: Ruthless Bastards (RBMC Book 9) Page 15