Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) (12 page)

Crow sat at the table and looked around the smoke-filled room. Tense silence split the air and he was getting a motherfucker of a headache. They had been at this for hours. Hells Saints delegates from all over the East Coast sat around the table discussing the quick rise of the Aces and the way they were moving in on the Colombian territory. Most important was the ensuing impact the Aces expansion was going to have on the Saints.

Beast, the president from the Keys, had been talking for the last fifteen minutes.

“A preemptive strike is what I'm talking about. Up to this point, we've all assumed that the Aces were nothing but a pissant club. And now we find out they’ve been growing in numbers right under our damn noses. How the fuck did that happen? We should have shut them down at two chapters. Now they’re talking about going national? Spells trouble down the line.”

Nods around the table.

Derringer, who had been quiet up to this point suddenly leaned in and looked each of his brothers in the eye one at a time. He represented Miami, was one of the original members and, aside from Prosper, was the longest standing president in the MC. Unlike most of the brothers, Derringer stood only about five-foot-six. A series of prayers written in Vietnamese tattooed on his shaved skull extended down the back of his neck and wrapped around his throat.

Crow had always considered Derringer a scary motherfucker. And although he had never seen him riding anything but calm, Crow had heard that Derringer had been a very effective army interrogation specialist back in the day. No one questioned that. When Derringer spoke everyone listened.

“As you already fucking know I’ve had some of my boys watching this…ah…
situation
…for a while and the way I see it is that the Aces are keeping it real with the Colombians by making their presence known. The truth is my boys got better things to do—right now, the Colombian and Mexican gangs are at each other's throats fighting for the blow territory. So far, it's been manageable, but I have to tell you it's only a matter of time before we're going to have to step in. The Aces have been all about the respect from what I can see—coming to us in peace to discuss how their play affects ours. They want to step up and open a charter that borders my boys. I'm good with that. They get out of hand, we can deal with them once the body count is settled.”

Jury gave the brothers a minute to think about what Derringer had said before he added his own thoughts to the table.

“Right now the Mexicans and Colombians are at war. That’s good. Real good. Could be they take care of this by offing each other. But if the stupid fucks decide to get smart and form an alliance, we’re gonna have a problem on our hands. Letting the Aces open in Miami under Derringer’s watch is something we might want to consider.”

“I don’t fucking like it. Other clubs banging at my door,” Beast weighed in.

“Not sure you got a dog in this hunt, Brother,” Derringer responded. “No one’s been banging at your door for years. The Keys have been untouchable up until now with the alliances we got down there. But it’s just a matter of time before someone comes knocking on your door. On all our doors. Today we have to decide as a club who we gonna let in. Like I said, by the way I see it the Aces are our best bet. For now. Let them fight their own damn turf war. When it’s over, they become a problem? We deal with that then. ”

“That incident in Pine Key…” Beast clenched and unclenched his fist.

“Was a million goddamn years ago. And you’ve been sitting pretty ever since.” Jury finished for him.

Then, with one sweeping look, Jury took in the men around him. “As you all know, Prosper’s been dealing with some family issues. Sent his man Crow here to be his mouthpiece.” Jury turned to Crow. “You want to give us where the boss lands on this one?”

Hard men with hard eyes leaned forward. Crow met each gaze with his own harder one.

“You all know about the kidnapping that happened a couple of years ago. Los Rojos swore they had nothing to do with it and Lucius gave us what he could to find his nephew Manny, the asshole who was responsible for the mayhem against Prosper’s daughters. But that level of cooperation only came after Prosper had a pair of nines pointed at Lucius’s family. And the info he gave us really didn’t amount to jack.”

“Should have taken the fucker out then,” someone muttered. Assent flowed through the crowd at the table.

Crow gave them a minute to let them have their say and took the opportunity to light up a smoke before he continued.

“Then not too long after that, goddamn Colombians were at it a-fucking-gain. Again a member of Lucius’s goddamn family. That crazy snatch, Luisa Sievas, never would have come after Reno if Lucius had been minding the store like he gave his word that he would be. The bitch and two of her men jacked Prosper’s nephew and his sister-in-law at the cemetery. At the
goddamn
cemetery
. And no surprise Lucius swears the bitch was acting on her own. But this time we had to take the fuckers out. As you all know, we dissolved their club. What was left of Los Rojos got absorbed into Los Olcas. They’ve been quiet. For now. But that could just mean they are settling in. I’m here to tell you that my boss doesn’t trust them. Crownsmount has been keeping an eye on them for a while. We got both groups bordering us, so things are gonna be tricky either way. What happens today affects Crownsmount, no question. The Aces have had our backs twice now. Prosper would like to return the favor.” Crow leaned back and looked each man in the eye.

“Worst of two fucking evils to choose from.” Beast shook his head.

“Yeah, but one of the goddamn evils went after Prosper’s blood. That shit don’t sit with me.” Jury laid a hard hand on the table.

“There is that,” someone mumbled.

“And they jumped Reno at his father’s grave site,” Crow reminded them. “Agreed neutral territory. Colombians don’t respect hallowed fucking ground, they don’t respect anything. That move right there should be enough reason to back the Aces.”

A few more of the chapter presidents were heard from. Then it was put to a vote. Crow stepped out and notified Prosper that the vote fell on the side of the Aces. Beast was the last holdout, but the reminder about the kidnapping and cemetery jump sealed his vote. Prosper knew what he was doing when he told Crow to throw that out on the table.

The boss might be getting old, but he was still a smart motherfucker.

“…And the teacher said that we could hand out the invitations to the class in school since my birthday’s in the summer. So mom and I are going to write them out tonight.” Jett loved to Skype with his grandfather. “Mom, will you get the invitations so I can show them to Nonno?”

Melissa stopped chopping the vegetables for dinner and went to stand behind her son at the kitchen table.

“Hey, Dad.” She blew a kiss to the screen as she handed Jett the package of birthday party invitations.

“
Ciao
,
carina
,” Bruno Pignatelli called out to his daughter. “That better be Italian you’re cooking up for my grandson.”

“Fresh tomato, basil and mozzarella salad. Italian enough for you?” She smiled at the screen. “Enjoy the chat with your grandson. I have to go cook up some sausage.”

Melissa smiled at the constant stream of chatter coming from her little boy, warmed as always by her father’s infinitely patient responses.

“…And I’m going to invite Michael, and Sawyer, and Rosie and Crow…and…”

Melissa stepped back as the grease splattered at her from the metal spatula she had just dropped in the oiled pan.

“Crow? What kind of name is that for a boy? Does he have a brother named Parrot? A sister named Parakeet?” Bruno was teasing his grandson.

Jett let out a loud laugh. “No. He doesn’t! And he’s not a boy. He’s a man. A big one.”

“Uh-uh,” Bruno answered. “Tell me more about this friend of yours.”

Melissa heard the subtle change in her father’s tone from across the room.

“He has as a motorcycle, and a van and a lot of tattoos. And tools. Lots and lots of tools. He is fixing up stuff around here.” Jett’s voice rang out excitedly.

“Sounds like a busy man. Where’s your mother?”

Uh oh.

Melissa wiped her hands on the kitchen towel then and stepped into Bruno’s line of vision.

“He’s our landlord, Dad.”

“Thought your landlord was a
landlady
?”

“Yes, that’s right. But the property recently changed hands from hers to his. I don’t know the specifics.”

“So does he have a last name?” Bruno asked. “This landlord named after a bird, with the tattoos and the van and the motorcycle?”

“It’s Mathison,” Jett interrupted cheerfully. “And he’s not just our landlord, Nonno, he’s our
friend
. Mom, how come your ears just turned all red?”

“Did they?” Melissa couldn’t hide her horror.

“Bright red.” Jett stared at Melissa’s ears then at the screen. “Can you see that, Nonno? How red Mom’s ears just got?”

Bruno eyed her with speculation. “Must be getting hot in that kitchen.”

***

Now Melissa and Jett sat together at the kitchen table making out the invitations for the party. Jett sat next to Melissa, with crayon in hand, printing a classmate's name on each invitation.

“How do you spell Crow?” he asked.

“Jett, I heard you tell Nonno you wanted to invite him, but it’s not a good idea, honey.
”
Melissa forced herself to remain calm.

“Why not? Why can’t I?” Jett paused with the crayon in his hand and looked at her.

Because this hero worship thing you have going on for this man is seriously misplaced. And
besides that, I don’t know how I am ever going to face him again….

“I’ll think about it,” Melissa stalled.

“Well, can you think about it out loud?
”
Jett asked.

Absolutely not.

“Honey, he’s a busy man. Keep putting your name on those,” she said and pointed to the invitations.”

“He's not too busy to come to a party, Mom.”

“I’m sure he is.” Melissa kept writing.

“He isn’t,” Jett persisted.

“I said no.” Melissa paused and looked at him.

“Mom! I already asked him.”

The pencil Melissa was holding snapped in half. A sharp pain lit across her temple.

“Jett, why would you do that without asking me first?”

“Because I think he’d like to come. I think he’s lonely. Even with all those tattoos,” Jett explained fervently.

“Honey, men like Crow don’t get lonely.”

Understatement
, Melissa thought to herself.

“What do you mean, Mom? You said everyone gets lonely sometimes. Remember you said that?”

“Yeah, honey. I remember.”

“He's nice to me. He promised to teach me how to use a screwdriver next.”

Dear God.

Melissa looked at her son with a measure of alarm and fleeting pain.

“Mom?” Her son was standing next to her now. Crayon abandoned on the table, his little arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“Yes, Jett?” She pulled him close to her.

“If you don’t want me to like him, I won’t.”

Melissa groaned inwardly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to like him. I am glad he’s nice to you.”

“I think he wants to be nice to you too, Mom. You just have to let him.” Jett smiled at her.

Melissa put Jett to bed and had just showered when she heard the familiar rumble of pipes in the driveway. She felt the blood drain from her face. His message had said a few days. Two was not a few. A few was three, or maybe even four, wasn’t it?

Two was not enough days. Definitely not enough.

Melissa pressed her hand against her stomach where her nerves jumped and fluttered. She had really messed up. Going at it with him like that made her seem like a sex-starved widow.

Which is exactly what you are!
A voice nagged at her from the corners of her mind.

What she had done was stupid and impulsive—a moment of sheer madness, pure lust, and weakness. She should have never given in to it. There was absolutely no one to blame but herself. Though even as Melissa berated herself, a fresh wave of desire rolled through her. She thought of the way Crow's tongue and fingers had worked their magic. The way his hard body had felt when he had pulled her against him…

Groaning, Melissa sat on the side of her bed and buried her face in her hands.

She definitely wasn’t ready to deal with Crow. Why was he back so soon? She got up and paced around the bedroom trying to gather her thoughts. There was only one thing she could do. She would avoid him. She had done it before; she could do it again.

Melissa busied herself by tugging the sheets off the bed and stuffing them into the wicker hamper. Then she moved to the small closet and pulled out a set of clean linens. The soft, worn fabric felt cool under her hand as she smoothed out the wrinkles and tucked in the ends. Jesse had taught her how to make military corners and Melissa took her time now and made up the bed with the precision of a five-star general.

After she had finished with the linens, Melissa breathed deep, stood back and admired her handiwork. She could bounce a quarter in the middle of that bed. Just looking at the tightly sheeted mattress brought her sense of control back. Crow was home and she would be able to avoid him. If she stayed away from Crow Mathison, her peace of mind would be restored. It was that simple.

But that peace of mind lasted about a minute.

Right up until the kitchen door creaked as it opened, followed by the soft thud of footsteps on the staircase. The unmistakable scent of fresh wind, strong tobacco and leather all surged towards her.

Melissa almost choked on the beating of her own heart when she turned to find Crow leaning against the frame of her bedroom door just a few feet away from her. His big arms sat casually on his hips and his leather-clad legs were crossed. He looked deceptively calm, but Melissa could see from the way a muscle jumped in his jaw that he was anything but relaxed.

“Crow? I…” Melissa’s voice trailed off as she saw him push off the frame and step into the room. His foot moved back to kick the door shut behind him. Melissa felt her heart race, her knees weaken and her insides go hot and moist.

Crow looked as if he had ridden hard. Dust covered the bandana on his forehead. He had two days of stubble on his chin and his leather riding pants were splattered with mud. And he wore his cut. Perhaps it was just the mark of his outlaw band of brothers, but when he looked at her, the usual teasing in his eyes was replaced by something primal and predatory.

Crow moved to her with the grace of a panther and Melissa instinctively shrunk back. In less than two beats of a heart, her back hit the wall and his hands caged her in. She took a deep breath and the pure masculine scent of him made her weak with want. As he leaned into her, one of his knees pressed against hers and nudged open the edge of her short robe.

“Why are you here?” she asked weakly.

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied.

“I think you do,” he murmured.

“I don’t.”

“Melissa, we’re not going to pretend it didn’t happen.” Crow nuzzled her neck.

“What didn’t happen?” Melissa moaned.

“Need a reminder?” he whispered into her ear.

Melissa’s knees buckled as her mind waged war with her senses. Every nerve ending in her body craved his touch, while her instincts screamed at her to run for her life. And there she stood wedged between the wall and Crow—between logic and lust. Caught in a spider’s web of need and confusion and heat.

“I think we better stop,” she breathed out.

“Baby, I’m not stopping. But I promise to go real slow.” Crow ran his tongue along the sensitive spot just under Melissa’s ear.

Crow's arms snaked around her and settled against the small of her back. He anchored her firmly against him as his other hand teased opened her robe. The back of his hand slid up and down the warm skin of her stomach just above her panties in a slow sensuous movement that created a deep ache in her. Melissa felt the clench and release of intimate muscles as they moistened the soft silk of her panties. Her traitorous legs parted in welcome when his erection strained against the soft leather of his pants and possessively pushed against her heat.

The slow, soft kiss became deeper and more demanding and she met each thrust of his tongue with a need of her own. Her last semblance of control and thoughts of self-denial melted away in a long sigh. When he tweaked her swollen nipple she arched her back and pushed her breast against him. Her hands moved to the smooth silk of his long hair and she buried her hands in it while pressing soft kisses along his jaw line down his neck and across his chest. She felt his erection swell and push deeper against her. He shifted her slightly and settled in deeply between her legs.

“What do you want from me?” She groaned in a heat of confusion.

“
More. I want more. I want it all, Melissa,” he answered without hesitation. “I want everything.”

The creaky sound of a doorknob turning reached both of them at the same time. Crow pulled Melissa's robe closed before he quickly stepped away from her. Melissa did not miss the painful grimace as he adjusted the crotch of his pants.

Five seconds later her son was standing in the open door.

Five seconds.

Jett looked from his mother to Crow.

“Hi, Crow. Did mom tell you about my birthday party? It's not ‘til after school gets out in the summer, but mom said I can send the invitations early. She said maybe you can come too.” A sleepy smile split his face.

Melissa looked from Crow to Jett and back again. She found that she was utterly incapable of speech.

Her mouth opened and closed.

Opened and closed. Like a fish gulping for air.

Melissa looked on horrified as Crow and Jett proceeded to have the most natural conversation in the world. Jett did not seem to care one bit that Crow was in his mother’s room long after he had been put to bed and Crow appeared to be totally okay with being found there.

“Yeah, little warrior, she did. That's why I'm here. I got something for you, but I didn't have any wrapping paper. Thought your mom might help me out.” Crow knelt down to Jett's level.

“She keeps the wrapping paper in her closet over there. But you didn’t need to get me anything. My birthday’s not here yet. What is it?” Jett asked all at one time.

Melissa groaned inwardly.

Busted on so many levels.
But her groan quickly turned to a small gasp of surprise when she saw that Crow had reached in and pulled a crinkled brown bag out of the inside of his leather vest. Wide awake now Jett turned to his mother for permission to open it. Melissa could only nod.

“Thank you.” Jett smiled at the big man.

“You don’t know what it is yet.” Crow grinned back.

“Don’t matter. If it’s from you, I like it already.” Jett tore into the paper bag.

Then silence.

Complete and utter silence.

Jett turned the gift over and over again in his hands. He touched it reverently, as if the suede work belt were spun out of gold. With care, Jett removed each small metal tool to examine it further. Then, with only slight hesitation, Jett leaned in and placed his arms around Crow's neck in a tight hug.

“Now I’m just like you,” Jett whispered to Crow loud enough for Melissa to hear.