Crow’s Revenge (Devil’s Murder MC #5)

Prologue

Six months earlier—

My fist closed around the crumpled piece of paper in my hand—the note delivered by the prospect who stood before me and nervously shuffled his feet.

“Go,” I growled, unable to think beyond the message Undertaker had sent me. The cruel reminder that he would never forgive my careless mistake.

Abigail Holmes. An eye for an eye.

One child’s life for another.

Fuck!

I couldn’t keep my secret any longer. My daughter wasn’t safe.

There was only one choice to make. Crow needed to hear the truth. The club would protect Abigail. Even if something happened to me, my son would do the right thing.

Not that he was here for me to confide in.

Why the fuck did he have to be so goddamn stubborn?

I felt the presence of my crow and his chitter outside as he hopped around, amused by my question.

“Yeah, he’s just like his old man. Determined. Headstrong. Nobody can tell him a fuckin’ thing. Always got to figure it out himself.”

With a sigh, I scrubbed my hand down my face and over my beard, wondering when my son would return home. He’d have to head this way soon, whether he was ready or not. I needed him. Abigail was in danger.

There was only one thing left to do. I had to pay a visit to Howie Baker.

My gaze lowered to the crinkled paper and the words written on it. I snarled as I stomped across the room to my desk, reaching underneath the front drawer to push a hidden button. The latch released with a click, popping open the secret compartment underneath.

Over the years since Abigail’s birth, I’d added mementos about her accomplishments. The newspaper clipping from when she won the state spelling bee championship at eight years old. When she won the grand prize in a coloring contest at age ten. Her high school and college graduation photos. Some of the happiest moments of her life, as cherished by me, her Uncle Derek, as they had been to her.

Uncle Derek. Fuck, I hated that she never learned the truth.

I could never admit I was her father. It placed a target on her back. After all these years, I’d been sure I’d done the right thing. None of my club brothers knew I had a second child. I kept her birth a secret, a promise to her mother that I wouldn’t bring Abigail into the biker lifestyle.

And now I wondered if that was a colossal mistake. The club knew nothing about her, and with this new threat, there was no one watching her back. What if Undertaker got to her first?

Fuck!

I shoved all the memorabilia back in the compartment, adding the crumpled note and shutting it with enough force that I heard the lock engage again. Someday, Crow would find this drawer, and maybe he’d understand why I kept his sister a secret. I hoped he could forgive me for the deception.

Abigail? I had no idea how she would react to the truth. Would she despise me for all the years I visited and took her on trips to the zoo and the movies without ever revealing why I loved and spoiled her?

Life had been hard on her despite my best intentions. She had a lazy mother and a worthless piece of shit for a stepfather. When I found out he verbally abused her, I showed up at his job and broke every finger in his right hand. He left her alone after that. But it didn’t change the fact that I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Would she have been happier and safer with me and her brother?

I’d never know the answer to that.

There wasn’t time to dwell on it. I needed to leave. Alone.

That would pose a big fucking problem because the president of a notorious biker club never went anywhere without backup. Raven, my V.P., and Hawk, my S.A.A., would try to stop me.

I snatched up my keys, wallet, and smokes, shoving everything into my pockets. For this to work, I needed to leave as quickly as possible. A sense of urgency pulsed through me, and I rushed from my room, taking the stairs two at a time until I reached the bottom.

As soon as I finished the meeting with Howie Baker, I’d ride to Abigail’s house and tell her everything. With any luck, she’d listen and follow me back to the clubhouse, where I’d introduce my daughter and hold church, asking for a vote to protect her from Undertaker and the Dirty Death MC.

It wasn’t a great fucking plan, but it was a plan.

My ass had barely met the saddle of my Harley when a rough voice caught my attention.

“Where are we headed, pres?”

I turned my head, staring at Raven. My best fucking friend. I’d kept my secrets from him, too.

“I need to ride out alone.”

“Not gonna happen.” His arms crossed over his chest as he frowned. “Something is up. My crow is agitated. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I received a note,” I admitted.

“A fucking note?”

“A threat,” I clarified.

His brows shot upward in surprise. “Who? What the fuck do they want?”

“They don’t want anything. At least, nothing I can offer.”

That was the fucking truth. None of my children would be pawns in Undertaker’s sick games.

“Where are you going, pres? Riding out alone won’t solve shit. Let me come with you.”

I shook my head.

“Then, Hawk. Or Talon. Shit, take Cuckoo or Carrion.”

I snorted. “No. I’ve got to do this alone. It’s fucking crucial.”

Raven’s arms dropped. “Rook,” he pleaded, using my road name. He rarely did that.

It hit me in the chest like a punch to the heart. Should I send him to retrieve Abigail? No. She had to hear the truth from me first. I fucked this up enough without adding more shit to the pile.

“There’s no other choice.” None that I could see. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He swallowed. I didn’t think he’d give up so fast, and he didn’t. “How about I ride in the distance? Keep watch in case shit goes down. No one has to know, but it’ll make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

I couldn’t do that. Not yet.

“No,” I growled. “Not this time.”

A panicked look briefly crossed his features. “This doesn’t feel right.”

He wasn’t wrong. None of this was fucking right from the beginning, and the blame originated from me. One stupid, reckless night. Too much liquor. Not enough caution.

I never saw Fang until he ran the red light at 2 a.m. Drunk, I didn’t have the reflexes or the clarity to stop or swerve my bike. We collided on the dark asphalt.

Fang was thrown from his bike and hit a pole, crushing his skull on impact. He didn’t suffer. But that didn’t matter to Undertaker. From the moment of his only son’s death, he blamed me. Swore vengeance. I waited every day for the last fifteen years for him to come.

He never had.

I’d often wondered why he let me and my son live. Why wait all this time for revenge?

It wasn’t until I saw the property taxes on his land that I thought of a bargain to end our feud. I’d paid them before he could, earning the deed and stashing it away at The Roost.

That was my ace. Undertaker didn’t own his property anymore or the clubhouse for the Dirty Death MC. I did.

But I didn’t want to keep it. This was my chance to secure Abigail and Crow’s safety. I wouldn’t sell it. Just a trade. The deed for their lives. Seemed reasonable to me. Undertaker only won in this deal. I hoped he would see it that way.

“It’s got to be this way. Trust me.”

Raven dipped his chin. “Okay, pres.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours, probably not alone.”

That caught his attention. “Who’s comin’?”

“I need you to promise me you’ll keep this secret.”

Raven blinked. “I will.”

“Someone who can change the past and heal the club. It’ll end the shit with Undertaker and the Dirty Death.”

“Damn.”

“Be ready for anything,” I cautioned.

“I will. Ride safe, brother.”

Club brother. Best friend. Family. If something happened to me, Raven would ensure Crow took the throne. He’d help run the club and keep it moving forward. I trusted him because he was blood to me.

“If shit goes south, make sure Crow comes home and takes the president patch.”

Raven flinched. “Fuck, Rook. Now I need to come with you.”

“No, It’s got to be this way. There are too many lives at risk. You’ve got to follow orders.”

His face flushed, and I knew Raven was pissed.

“Don’t follow me. I’m not asking as your pres. I’m asking as your best fucking friend and brother. Let me do this.”

Defeat settled over his features. “Alright. You have my word.”

His word was resolute. If Raven gave it, he’d never betray it.

“I need to ride. Now.”

I left the parking lot outside The Roost and never looked back. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Raven’s face or any of the club members when I left them behind. It hurt, and my chest ached. For the first time in over forty years, I put my children first and the club second—a choice I should have made long ago.

Fuck. It was another item on a long list of regrets.

Losing Crow’s mother because of this life. Choosing the club over Abigail’s mother. The rift between me and my son because I held on too fucking tight. Not being there enough for my daughter. They eroded my composure as I gripped the handlebars on my bike and sped toward Bakers’ Law Offices.

I parked my bike in the front spot, loading my helmet inside my saddlebags before I trudged up the steps and entered the building. The receptionist greeted me with a smile.

“Hello. Do you have an appointment?”

“Don’t need one,” I muttered, heading toward Howie Baker’s door.

“Hey, you can’t barge in there!”

“Honey, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Pink dusted her cheeks.

I turned the knob and entered Howie’s office. “It’s time,” I announced.

Howie shot to his feet as his secretary rushed inside. “It’s fine. Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. This is urgent, Sally.”

She gave him a funny look and nodded, shutting the door behind her as she left.

“I wondered when I’d see you again,” Howie began, opening his desk drawer to pull out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He filled them both and pushed one in my direction.

I took the drink, tossed back its contents, and enjoyed the resulting burn. “I need the documents.”

He paused with the glass halfway to his mouth. “Shit.”

Yeah, shit. “I got a note this morning.”

“He found your daughter.”

It didn’t surprise me that Howie reached that conclusion without a nudge from me. “Yes.”

“Then we need to secure our investments and put the plan in place.”

“Already done on my end. I spoke to Raven. The club will know what to do. I need the envelope mailed to the clubhouse right away, addressed to Crow. I’m going to pick up my daughter when I leave here.”

“Done.” Howie drained his glass and placed it on his desk. “I’ll leave first. Close up my office and send Sally on her way. I don’t want her caught in the middle as collateral damage if Undertaker had you followed.”

I already considered that option. But since he enjoyed toying with me, I didn’t think he’d make a move yet. He wanted me to squirm first, like the worm dangling from a hook above the gaping mouth of a fish.

“He won’t. Not yet.”

“I hope you’re right.” Howie cleared his throat. “He can’t know my role in this.”

“As far as I know, he doesn’t. That’s why I made sure no one followed me here. Took a couple of detours on the way.”

Howie nodded. Relief swept over his features. “Good.” He stood and walked to a framed picture on his wall, plucking it away and placing it on the ground by his feet. A safe had been concealed. He spun the dial for the combination before opening it. “Here.” He reached inside and pulled out an envelope, handing it over. “Check that it’s in order before I mail it.”

I flipped through the contents, skimming the documents inside. Crow’s birth certificate. Abigail’s birth certificate. My marriage license with Crow’s mother, Laurel. Her forged death certificate I promised to hold, breaking Laurel’s connection to the world she’d grown to hate. It was all here.

“It’s complete.”

“Then I’ll prepare the package.”

Howie addressed the envelope and sealed it, placing it inside his open briefcase. He’d popped it onto his desk while I checked all the documents. Inside, he added cash, passports, and other items that weren’t my business. The safe had been emptied.

He left it open. There was nothing left to conceal.

“Do you still have the letter for Laurel?”

“Yes.”

“Mail that too.”

How pursed his lips. “As you wish.”

I glanced at my phone, swiping to open it, sending funds from my account. “Your final payment has been made.”

Howie shut his briefcase and locked it. “I won’t be reachable until this is finished.”

“I understand.”

We both walked toward his door.

Howie turned to me. “I hope it works out. Abigail should be at The Roost with you and Crow. It’s her legacy.”

“Yes,” I agreed. My legacy, passed on to both of my children.

I watched as he gave instructions to Sally and told her to take the side entrance and leave. She rushed from us, confusion and fear warring for dominance in her pale blue eyes.

Howie held out his hand. “Best of luck, Austin Derek Holmes. I hope we see each other again someday.”

“Under entirely different circumstances,” I joked.

“Agreed.”

I waited until I heard his car pull away and leave the lot. He didn’t take his fancy Mercedes but a second vehicle registered to his mistress. Smart. Howie always covered his tracks well, which was one of the reasons I used his services.

The club had a lawyer on retainer. We used Gil Thomas, and he was worth every cent. He’d helped us on numerous occasions. If I had any other option, I would have obtained Gil’s skills for the documents Howie had procured for me, but the need for secrecy trumped my loyalty to Gil.

After checking the windows, I left the quiet office, ensuring no one lingered outside. The property seemed deserted as I sat on my bike. Pulling on my gloves, I started the engine and eased her out of the parking spot, turning toward the road.

The rumble of multiple bike engines alerted me to trouble before I could rise off the seat or head back inside. When I saw the Dirty Death MC cuts, I knew Undertaker must have followed me. But how?

My crow swirled above my head, circling the area as he cawed at the men who approached. I sensed his apprehension and concern. I’d come alone against the advice of my V.P. My club would be pissed.

Undertaker, his V.P. Chronos, and several other members blocked my exit as they pulled in, forming a row of six bikes. I wondered how they found me. I left no trail. I’d made sure no one followed. How was this fucking possible? And what did the asshole want? To threaten me again?

I opened my mouth to speak when the strangest scent caught me unaware. A smell that resembled decay and something sinister. Above my head, my crow rattled his throat. Kraaa!

Undertaker’s grin spread wide as our eyes met. “Yes. You sense it. Good.”

What the fuck was he? And his club? Fucking wolves? How the hell did we miss this? How did they conceal it?

“You should know I’m no ordinary Alpha. The vargulf has taken leadership over my pack.” He pulled a gun, aiming at my heart. “I want to rip you apart and feast on your organs. I need you to feel the same pain I felt when you killed Fang.”

Chronos and the other DDMC snarled, growling at Undertaker’s words. I’d stolen a life. Taken the Alpha’s son from his father and the pack. I deserved to die for my crime, no matter if it was an accident or not.

“You’ll know the agony I feel when your children die by my hand. I will slowly bleed them out as I let the vargulf consume them.”

No!

“But you won’t be here to witness it.”

I blinked as Undertaker ticked his chin at Chronos.

There was nowhere to run, and I wasn’t a coward. I’d die like a fucking man on my bike. But it would suck for my kids. Gunned down in the middle of the afternoon. Not a witness to see what happened. My last breaths on this earth leaving my chest with worry and regret.

Chronos reached inside his cut and grabbed his gun. The barrel pointed at my chest. I kept my eyes open, staring my enemy down as he pulled on the trigger. In defiance, I lifted my chin higher and went for my weapon.

It was a futile effort.

I never counted how many bullets it took to knock me from my Harley—more than three. I jolted with every impact. Dark red blood oozed from the wounds as my back met the asphalt. Strangely, I didn’t feel much pain.

Maybe I was in shock.

Undertaker laughed as my crow lost his shit, attacking the vargulf. He shredded the skin on the left side of Undertaker’s face before taking to the sky, cawing loudly. More crows joined him as they assembled for a mobbing.

Engines thundered as the group left the parking lot, and I heard sirens. Help would never arrive in time.

I felt my essence fading and the crow’s panicked chortle. Our bond would sever, and he would be forced to fly alone until his last breath, never bonding to another member of my club.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to choke as I sputtered on my lifeblood. “Crow. Abigail.”

I promised Laurel if she took on a new identity and left Nevada, I would keep our son safe. I’d break that vow with my death. Crow would be too vulnerable and furious.

And with my murder, my son would be forced to hunt down the Dirty Death MC and kill every last one of them. The club, my children, Laurel, and the crows would never find peace as long as the vargulf and his pack hunted on our land.

My eyes closed, and my body relaxed, the ground beneath my cut saturated with blood as I felt the hot, sticky fluid reach my hair. In those last moments, I thought only of the three people I loved most. My son and daughter. My Laurel.

I hoped they could forgive me.