Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) (14 page)

“They’re setting up a tent and raffling off a Harley.” Crow took the check. “I guess they do it every year. The money's going to go to that veterans’ fund they like. Local American Legion rents out the fairgrounds for the week. There's a beer tent, food, rides, live music. You name it and it's there. Old-school carnie shit. I told Jury we'd show up. They're having a blow-out back at the clubhouse later on. Weekend thing. You down with that?"

“Yeah. I’m down with that. You got a shower hooked up so I can get some of this road dust off me?” Jules asked. “I get any dirtier I’m gonna smell like you.”

“On your best fucking day you never smelled as good as me,” Crow responded.

While Crow was waiting for Jules to clean up, he remembered how none of his brothers from Crownsmount had offered to come out and help with the original construction of the house. That’s why Jury’s help with that roof had meant so much to him at the time.

By not offering to help him build, the home chapter boys had sent out a loud clear message about what they had thought of his decision to marry Jaci. And that had hurt. But Crow had always been a stubborn bastard and their disapproval had made the desire to prove them wrong even stronger.

But in the end,
he
was the one who was proven wrong.

And when the shit finally,
finally
hit the fan, not one of them, not a damn one of his boys ever gave so much of a hint of an
I told you
so
.

And that not saying had meant a lot to Crow.

Fuck it meant everything.

It meant his pride.

So now Jules’s being here, for whatever reason, meant a lot to Crow too.

He jumped straight out of the chair when Jules’s shouts came bellowing down the stairs.

“Holy shit! What the fuck just happened to the hot water? My dick just shriveled up to the size of a damn pencil!”

Crow hauled ass over the sawhorse to reach the control panel and flip the water heater switch on to high. Then he rocked on his heels and grinned while he waited for the shouts that he knew would come when the shower spray switched from freezing cold to boiling hot almost instantly.

When the next long stream of invective came bounding down the stairs towards him, Crow put his hands on his knees and laughed until he cried.

The first thing that Melissa noticed after she parked her car in the hay field near the carnival grounds was the delicious smell in the air. The wind blew heavy with the scent of cotton candy, caramel apples and excitement. Jett was so excited that he pulled his mother in one hundred different directions. It had been a long time since Melissa had been at a place so rich in sight and sound and smell.

Bright banners split the sky into happy strips of color. Calliope music played somewhere in the distance likely speeding along a carousel of painted horses, while the distinctive vibration of bumper cars rumbled the ground beneath them. The sounds of children running, people playing booth games and craftsmen hawking their wares seemed to be everywhere.

Melissa and Jett decided their first step should be to get some tickets. She was next up at the sales booth when Jett chose that moment to make a run for it. Melissa almost lost her place in line when she moved to hurry after him, but then to her surprise she saw Crow standing in the middle causeway with Jett doing all the talking. His little hands gestured a mile a minute and his head bobbed up and down like an apple in a bucket of water. With Crow's face bent towards the boy, he seemed to be listening patiently, but then he looked up and his eyes met Melissa's with an intensity that made something clench deep within her.

“Next.” A large sweaty man extended a hand that looked like a ham hock.

Melissa reached for the small leather purse that she had strapped across her chest.

“Give me a roll of tickets.”

Crow was somehow standing in front of her and had thrown down a fifty dollar bill.

“I only budgeted for about twenty.” Melissa stretched her hand past Crow towards the ticket booth attendant.

“I got this,” Crow said and paid for the tickets.

Melissa looked at Crow slightly exasperated and opened her mouth to protest when Jett pulled on her hand.

“Just say thank you, will you, Mom? There're tons of cool rides here, plus you can use those tickets for games and food and stuff. Right, Crow?”

“That’s right, little warrior.” Crow’s eyes had not left Melissa’s face.

“Thank you, Crow.”

“You can thank me later, Melissa.” Crow winked at her.

She couldn’t help but shake her head and smile ruefully back at him.

When Crow put his hand on the back of her neck, Melissa felt a rush of warmth shoot through her and told herself to calm the hell down. She was at a carnival with her son for God’s sake.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Melissa said.

“Yeah. Kind of surprised to see you too.”

“Jett wanted to come. He hasn’t really been to anything like this before. What are you doing here?”

“A few organizations in the area have tents set up. You know, supporting the whole veterans’ thing,” Crow said casually.

“And your motorcycle club is here?” Melissa made sure her response was just as casual.

“Yeah. We’ve got a raffle set up. You up for meeting some of the brothers?” Crow turned to look at her.

Melissa thought that the question was kind of moot since Crow already seemed to be steering her right towards the large tent that sported a Hells Saints MC flag. Situated at the end of the causeway, it stood apart from the food booths and craft tables. Jett had let go of her hand and was now tugging on Crow’s instead, keeping up a constant stream of chatter. Mostly rapid-fire questions beginning with the words
can
I
,
when
can
I
, and
do you think Mom will let me
? Crow seemed to be answering them all in the affirmative which, of course, had Jett just about leaping for joy.

As they approached the Saints tent, Melissa realized that this section of the fairgrounds also sported some other groups. There was a Red Cross blood donation center, a first-aid tent, a few military recruiting stations, and a host of various other organizations. They all seemed to be holding raffles, imparting information or soliciting for volunteers.

Crow continued to steer Melissa and Jett through the throngs of people until they stood in front of a long table. A very cool looking Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron was on display as the offered item. The big raffle drum was already half full.

Three women sold tickets behind the long rectangular table and Melissa took the opportunity to take a closer look at them. The relationships of women had always held a certain kind of foreign fascination for Melissa. There seemed to exist a secret society that Melissa, having been raised by two men, had never been privy to.

She had hoped that marriage would change that. But Jesse had had no sisters. And to Melissa’s unending disappointment, her mother-in-law had been a timid creature who seemed to have only one interest—pleasing her husband, the General. Melissa had also missed out on the opportunity to make friends with other military families, living close to her dad and grandfather rather than on base. Not making friends easily made for a very lonely existence at times. Meeting Toni Dumont and some other moms through Jett’s school activities had been an unexpected blessing, but she really never felt as comfortable with them as they seemed to feel with each other.

The women at the raffle table smiled and laughed easily together. Two of them looked to be in their twenties, with one just a few years older than the other. The third woman was obviously quite a bit older, but she was in such fantastic shape that except for the fine lines around her eyes and mouth it was hard to tell her age. If Melissa were to guess, she would say that the older woman was maybe somewhere in her later forties. The three women all had blonde hair of varying shades and the strong resemblance between them went beyond the whole biker babe thing. They all the same blue eyes and heart shaped faces. They were dressed similarly. Each woman had on a Hells Saints support T-shirt, but displayed the standard tee in three different artful ways.

The woman who looked to be about Melissa's age had hers tied high up under her breasts displaying an ample amount of midriff skin and showing off a skull belly button ring which  dangled above her low-riding, tight fitting jeans. A large, very detailed long-stemmed rose was tattooed up along the side of her ribcage with a date inked next to it.

The younger woman standing next to her wore her shirt cut off at the collar and had made a sort of sexy tank top out of it. She wore it tucked into her jean shorts. A full sleeve of colorful tattoos climbed up her right arm.

The third and oldest of the three had completely done away with the collar, the sleeves and the sides of the shirt. She wore a black cami underneath the altered tee. Melissa noticed on her left-hand ring finger she had an intricately inked band of tiny flower blossoms. It was pretty and delicate and Melissa wondered if it was meant to take the place of a wedding ring.

While they waited for the three women to finish selling tickets, Melissa reached into her purse for the twenty dollars she had saved on the ride tickets. When the line cleared Melissa found herself facing three curious glances. Feeling on display, she wasn't sure what to do. She reached out to give the older woman the money.

“I’d like to buy a ticket, please,” she said.

The two younger women just looked at each other in confusion and then at Crow, who had snaked his hand around Melissa's waist. The older woman raised an eyebrow.

“Not sure how they do it over in the ‘mount, but here we don’t sell tickets to family, sweetheart.”

Melissa tensed, knowing that she had just committed some kind of breach of biker ethics.

“Put your money away, Melissa.” Crow squeezed her reassuringly.

“Hi, I'm Alison, Jury's old lady, and these are my girls, Charity and Skye.”

Melissa shook the woman’s hand and smiled awkwardly at the two daughters.

“So you two are together?”

The younger of the two women looked from Melissa to Crow with a measure of wary disappointment.

Before Melissa could answer, Crow jumped in. “This is Melissa and her son, Jett. And yeah. They belong to me.”

An awkward silence fell while Skye tried to rein in her obvious disappointment in finding Crow taken. Alison and Charity stared at her with open curiosity.

Feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny and suffering a mild shock from the
they belong to me
comment, Melissa sighed in relief when a diversion came in the form of a slight, very cute, little girl. Her white blonde hair sprang up like a fountain from the ponytail sitting on top of her head. Wide eyes the color of ripe blueberries stared out from her sun-kissed face. Most importantly, as far as Jett was concerned, her sneakers lit up when she ran. He immediately dropped his mother's hand when he saw her. “Hi.”

“Hi!” She came to a screaming halt right in front of him. “My name is Rosie. I’m almost six. What’s your name?”

“Jett,” he said, transfixed.

“You wanna kiss?” Rosie smiled and a dimple popped out of her cheek.

Jett’s mouth dropped open, but not before Melissa’s did. Then, to Melissa’s total and utter amazement, Jett leaned his cheek towards her. Rosie looked at him puzzled for a moment and burst out gleefully, “No silly. Not a kiss like
that
. A Kiss like
this
.”

Rosie opened her small hand to reveal a foiled covered chocolate candy. “Here. I have a whole bag of ‘em.” She pushed her little hand at him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jett grabbed the chocolate from her.

“Is that your daddy?” Rosie pointed.

“No. That’s my Crow. I don’t have a daddy. He died.” Jett looked up from unwrapping the silver foil.

“I don’t have a daddy either. But he didn’t die. My grandpa says he was a loser who couldn’t keep his dic…” Charity’s hand was over the little girl’s mouth in a flash.

“Rosie, honey. Remember what I told you about repeating what Grandpa says?” Charity arched her brow at her daughter. The little girl’s eyes grew wide above the gentle hand and she nodded.

“Sorry, Mommy. You want to play?” Rosie asked Jett.

Jett looked at Melissa with a pleading kind of anticipation in his eyes.

Melissa hesitated.

“It’s okay. We have an area set up for the kids.” Charity spoke up and gestured towards the tent where Melissa saw a good-sized section roped off. Men more suited to being soldiers or prison guards stood watch over a small enthusiastic group of children playing with games and toys.

“Please, mom?” Jett tugged on her arm.

“I thought we were going to go on some rides?” Melissa asked. Not entirely sure of this new change of plans or of babysitters who had tattoos on their necks and permits to carry concealed.

“Crow can take you on the rollercoaster. Right, Crow? You can take mom on the ride,” Jett asked him excitedly.

“Sure thing,” Crow replied.

“Come on! There’s a big sand pit with trucks and stuff!” Rosie grabbed Jett’s hand and started to pull him away. Jett let himself be tugged along by the little girl who didn’t seem to think it was important to wait for permission.

“Rosie! Stop! You are going to pull the child's arm out of his socket, for goodness sakes!” Alison's voice halted Rosie mid-stride. “I’m afraid my granddaughter is starting to get a little bossy. But your boy will be safe here with us if you want to leave him and go enjoy yourself for a while.”

Alison arched her brow at the granddaughter. Rosie saw the expression on her grandmother’s face and looked contrite. For about thirty seconds. Then she was back to tugging on Jett and pointing to the toys. Rosie had not let go of his hand. Melissa had to admit the set up they had for the kids was great.

“Let him go, honey. Prospects are watching them. They’re safe. Jury is the club president here. Rosie’s his granddaughter. It’s all good. Relax, baby,” Crow said.

Melissa kept her eyes glued to Jett and when he turned to her one more time before entering the little roped off area, she nodded her permission. Jett smiled happily at her and let Rosie pull him in the rest of the way.

“I’m going to give Rosie lunch in a few minutes. No worries, we are nut-free.” Charity stood next to her mother. “Tuna fish good?”

“Yeah. Thanks. He’ll love that. If you’re sure...” Melissa cast a worried look Jett’s way.

“Go. Have some fun. We got this, honey,” Charity reassured her.

Melissa looked over at the kids play area and it actually seemed like a small armed fortress. Six guys wearing prospect vests stood vigilant like sentries on a fortress wall—three facing outward and three inward. Jett could not have been safer and she would not be gone long.

“You good with this?” Crow asked her. When she nodded, Crow grabbed her hand and led her toward the rides. “So when’s the last time you’ve been on a rollercoaster?”

“Never.” Melissa answered.

“Really? Never? So you gonna pop your coaster cherry today?” Crow smirked.

“Yep,” Melissa answered.

“You afraid of heights?” he asked her.

“Petrified,” she answered.
But not today.

“Speed?” He arched his brow and stopped to look at her