Crow’s Revenge (Devil’s Murder MC #5)

Chapter 3

The conversation about Laurel’s death certificate sparked a new interest in checking my father’s office and his desk. It had become mine with his death, but I hadn’t yet gone through it. I couldn’t until now. Everything was still so fresh and painful. It fucking hurt to open his drawers and look through his shit.

But I had to move beyond that now. There were too many fucking questions that needed answers. Too many things that didn’t add up. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why my father didn’t fight harder to keep Laurel with us. What if everything I believed up to now had been a lie?

Jesus. Christ. The truth could change everything.

For over an hour, I dug through his drawers and personal items, notebooks, maps, and junk. A carton of Marlboro Reds. His favorite steel lighter with the club’s logo etched onto the front. A few drawings I made of motorcycles in middle school that I didn’t know he kept. Awards I’d earned.

A small envelope of photos that included old snapshots of club members like Raven. Damn, he looked young.

On the bottom, I found a picture of my dad, Laurel, and me when I was less than a year old. My pops held me, and his free arm hugged Laurel close against his side. They looked happy. More than that, I caught the way she stared at him like he was everything to her. What the fuck happened to drive them apart?

I sat back in the leather chair my father loved, kicking out my legs. My knee bumped into the underside of his desk, and I heard a click. A latch released with a click, popping open to reveal the secret compartment underneath.

I sat the photographs in my hands to the side, reaching into the compartment to pull out a stack of documents, newspaper clippings, photos, and other memorabilia. All of it was about my sister Gail. He’d kept track of her since her birth, proudly storing away everything he could about his daughter.

I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to keep my child a secret and love her from a distance. Rook never showed weakness or vulnerability. That was part of his position as the president of a 1 %er motorcycle club. But as I thought about it, I remembered moments when he would seem too distant or short-tempered. It didn’t happen often. I wondered if Gail or my mother was the reason.

These items had to have been precious to my father. In our house, pictures of me, my pops, and his club had been displayed everywhere, but with notable absence, my sister and mother were not. I wish Rook was here to ask. I would have understood if he told me the truth. I’d always wanted a sibling.

A sigh escaped as I replaced the memories in the compartment and shut it. A soft click followed. Someday, I’d bring Gail up here and show her what our father had saved. If there wasn’t so much shit going down with Undertaker and the Dirty Death, I’d do it now.

But the club and its problems trumped that reveal.

The trip down memory lane led me back to my mother. That seemed to be happening a lot today. I wondered if Eagle Eye had found anything yet. He was fucking fast when it came to this shit. He knew how to search for things I would never think to consider, and he was damn good at getting past firewalls and breaching security. He tapped into government sites all the time without getting caught.

The man was a tech genius.

I found him in his room, staring at two screens and shifting back and forth between them as he keyed in info, brought up flies, switched between them, and moved to the next item. Gave me a damn headache just to watch. The door had been ajar, and I walked in, standing behind him and not wanting to interrupt until he acknowledged me. I knew better than to distract him when he was fishing like this.

“Got an update for you, pres.”

Yep. I figured. “Fill me in.”

“Laurel left when you were seven, right?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“She’s been gone nineteen years. People’s lives change. They move on. Pop out kids. Advance in their career. Shit like that. But they don’t fall off the face of the earth and disappear.”

“What’s that mean, Eagle Eye?”

“This shit happens when they enter WITSEC.”

Witness Protection. “Are you saying the feds got to her?”

Eagle Eye shrugged. “Can’t say for sure until I dig a little more, but I can tell you she’s a ghost. There isn’t shit about Laurel Holmes since she left your pops. Everything is erased. Gone.”

“Or never existed because she was given a new identity.”

“Exactly.”

Goddamn. What the fuck did my mother get involved in?

Why did Rook keep that secret?

“Keep digging.”

“I will, pres. I’ll text when I have anything else.”

“Good.”

I left him to work his magic and headed straight to the bar. My ass landed on a stool, and a whiskey appeared in front of me. I thanked the prospect and picked up the shot, downing it in one swallow. “Leave the bottle, Red.”

“Sure, pres.”

Funny how everything surfaces in your mind when you have a few minutes of silence. The bar was quiet and nearly empty. Most of my guys were working for our various businesses and earned their honest wages that way. Kept the place almost tomb-like during a weekday afternoon.

But Raven and Lucky Lou were always around.

My V.P. took a seat on my right, asking for a beer. He turned my way, lifting his chin. “You got shit on your mind.”

I never could hide anything from him. Never wanted to do it either. “Too much shit,” I admitted. “You’ll never guess what I found in Rook’s desk.”

“A bottle of Macallan.”

“Shit,” I laughed. “If he had that, we’d be drinking it right now, toasting to him.”

“You bet we would.” A deep chuckle rumbled up his chest. “What did you find?”

“A hidden compartment full of memories about Gail. Awards. Photos. Newspaper articles. I even found an old shot of you and Rook. You’ve gotten old, Raven.”

“Asshole.” He smirked. “Damn. Now that we know about Gail, it doesn’t surprise me. Kind of makes my heart ache for him a little, ya know?”

I did. “Yeah.”

“That was a hell of a burden to carry alone.”

“He chose it that way,” I replied, unable to hide a slight bitterness from my tone. “He should have trusted us, Raven. Me and you and Lucky Lou. We always had his back.”

“I know, Crow. I’m sorry.” He gripped my shoulder. “It’s not easy to learn all this shit. It’s a lot to deal with on top of his death.”

“His murder,” I clarified.

“Ain’t a soul disputing that, pres.”

Fuck. “This shit has me all twisted.”

“I know. You’re not alone in that. It’s eatin’ up me and Lou, too.” He dropped his hand and reached for his beer, taking a long swallow.

“There’s got to be a way this all connects. Howie Baker killed himself and died with his secrets. We still don’t know if he knew shit about Laurel or the Dirty Death. The feds are involved. Agent Carson Phillips worked with Callie’s sister Sadie to bring down Mayor Elliott Goodman and the DOLL Agency. Those human trafficking assholes as still out there. We haven’t even dealt with that shit yet.”

“No. We haven’t. Can’t take on the whole world at once, Crow.”

I didn’t need him to tell me that.

“What about that house in the desert? The one we raided with the Tonopah Royal Bastards? Why the fuck does Undertaker have property out in the desert close to Tonopah when his land is on the border of Nevada and California?”

“All good questions.”

“I don’t like not having the answers, Raven. It leaves the club vulnerable.”

“And our women, including your sister.”

“Fuck,” I spat, swinging back another shot of whiskey.

“Heard from Carrion?”

“No. I haven’t seen him since our conversation.” The one where he told me that I had to trust him and listen if I wanted to keep Bella and Gail safe.

“Me either. Makes me anxious.”

“Right now, we keep a low profile. Watch over The Roost and our ol’ ladies. Undertaker’s deadline has passed. If he wants to come for us, he will. We’ll be ready.”

“You callin’ in help from the reapers?”

Our brothers in the Tonopah Royal Bastards were a crucial part of my plan. “Already done. Grim said he’s sending the best. They should arrive tonight.”

Raven slid from the stool. “Church?”

“Yeah. We got a lot of shit to discuss.”

It turned out that I never got away to meet Bella for dinner. I sent her a few texts, and she didn’t seem upset, but I hated that I had to cancel.

The hour had grown late by the time I returned to the apartment I shared with Bella on the upper floor of The Roost. I’d spent far too many late nights away from her lately, and guilt swept through me. We’d fucked often, but it wasn’t the quality time she’d asked for. I longed to drop everything and hold her close, giving her whatever she wanted. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for my queen.

Carrion knew this. It was why he made me promise. My chest ached as I entered, noting almost all the lights were out. Shit. She was asleep. When this was over, I’d do right by her.

As I entered our bedroom, I could tell Bella slept from the rumpled blankets on the bed, and I didn’t want to wake her. The moonlight filtering through the window was too dim to make out her features, but I didn’t need to see her beauty to know my ol’ lady was there.

I slowly stripped off my cut and draped it over a chair. My keys and wallet were placed on my dresser. Kicking off my boots, I sat on the edge of the mattress and reached for her, needing that tiny bit of connection to her to ground me. With Carrion’s revelations and the urge to hunt down Undertaker, I had to hold her.

Something wet and sticky coated my fingers as I slid them over the large mounds, not feeling warmth or catching that unmistakable sweet scent of hers that always lingered in my room and on my clothes.

For a split second, terror overtook me. I couldn’t move. I struggled to breathe.

My crow croaked outside, his throat rattling as he cried out.

And then I stood, rushed to the lamp, and flipped the switch, illuminating the room and my bed. Red. All I fucking saw was red. It splashed the walls. Streaked across the mattress. Stained everything in my vicinity.

Blood. So much fucking blood.

But it wasn’t Bella. It wasn’t human.

There, in the middle of my bed, was a fucking deer carcass. The throat had been slashed. It bled out on my sheets and comforter where Bella and I slept.

Someone would pay for this.

But where was my Bella? And why was her scent gone? Like she’d been erased? No hint of her perfume or body wash. No lingering sweetness or floral undertones.

I rushed to the bathroom. All her shit was gone. Like someone had packed it all up, and she’d left. Forever. Just like Laurel.

Where. The. Fuck. Was. My. Woman.

I nearly panicked, scooping up my cut to shove my arms through the sleeves, rushing from my room, and thundering down the stairs.

My heart thudded against my ribcage as it beat so hard I thought it would crash through my chest. I entered the bar. . .and total fucking chaos.

Sadie, Callie’s sister, stood beside a man I didn’t know. They were drenched in blood.

Deer blood? What the fuck was happening?

“Where’s Bella?” I roared as the room grew quiet.

Everyone turned to stare, noticing the crimson stains on my hands and jeans.

Sadie shook her head. “He took her.”

“Who?” I growled.

“Undertaker.”

My mouth opened, and agony unleashed. All the pain, fear, and rage I felt from Rook’s death, combined with the knowledge that my enemy had taken my mate. My Bella.

She was gone.

A single word rumbled up my chest, bursting free from my lips. “Kraaaaaa!”

The door flew open from outside, and my eyes opened, immediately focusing on whoever entered next. If it was the Dirty Death or Undertaker, I’d shoot without hesitation.

I never would have guessed who stepped through with a timid smile. The years had given her more wrinkles and aged her, but she was still beautiful.

After all this time, she’d finally returned.

My mother.

Laurel Holmes.