Chapter 6 Crypt
“We’re making a quick stop,” I announced as I glided into a parking space close to the entrance.
“At Target?”
“Yeah, babe. You need stuff,” I explained as I shut off the engine and stood, immediately missing Rachel’s hands on my body. “This is a good place for clothes and necessities, right?”
My sister loved Target. She said you could buy anything there. I had to take her word for it because I’d never set foot in one before today. I hated shopping and usually bought what I needed online or had it delivered through an app.
Michelle would be shocked if she saw me walking inside.
“Yeah, actually. Rylee loves Target.”
I reached for Rachel’s hand and curled my fingers around hers, an unspoken communication that I wanted to pick up where we left off at the prison. Was I surprised she had a daughter? Sure. Did it matter? No.
Kids didn’t bother me. My sister had two little girls.
Rachel held my hand and didn’t pull away. I couldn’t help the ridiculous fucking grin on my face as we entered Target. I ended up having to let go far too soon because she wanted to push a big red plastic cart.
I cleared my throat. “Get whatever you need. Don’t worry about the cost.”
She turned to me, and I saw her cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. “I’m not poor.”
“Never implied that you were, but I’m thinking that you had to pay those motherfuckers off since Hannibal took the backpack from you. It’s not difficult to figure out that it probably contained a lot of what you had saved up. Am I right?”
Her eyes shifted, and her focus slipped to the floor. “Yeah.”
“Hey.” I grasped her chin and lifted it, not giving a fuck that we stood in the middle of the shampoo aisle in Target. “I’ve got you. It’s my job. Hannibal’s orders.”
“I don’t think he meant paying for all the things we need.”
“Yeah, he did, beautiful. You put whatever you and Rylee need in the cart. Price doesn’t matter.”
She frowned. “Not a penny over. Nothing extra.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. I’m not a charity case.”
My thumb brushed over the soft skin of her face. “It’s not charity. Taking care of you and your daughter is a privilege.”
“But you don’t know us.” She sounded flustered.
I’d change that real soon. The more I was with her, the more she’d get to know me—the same for Rylee. I wouldn’t be a stranger for long.
“I want to help. It’s the right thing to do.”
She seemed to search my eyes for several long seconds, making a decision I couldn’t influence. “Okay.”
“Good. Let’s shop, Brown Eyes.” I brushed my mouth over hers and backed away, letting her push the cart in the direction she wanted.
Her lips were still as soft as flower petals and tasted sweet like strawberries or cherries.
Everything I remembered and had craved during the last three years.
A part of me wanted to press her against the wall and kiss her, showing her that I was the guy she needed in her life and could take care of all her needs. A man that she could count on.
And her daughter? I’d do right by her, too. I didn’t need to meet Rylee to know she was special. I knew that because of Rachel. She was everything I remembered, and somehow, she’d become a necessity I couldn’t live without.
We bought clothes, shoes, toiletry items, and everything else a woman and her young daughter might need.
I insisted on adding anything to the cart that Rachel debated, knowing that if she stopped to look at or touch it, she probably needed it for herself or Rylee.
The cart was full by the time we finished.
“I don’t think all of this will fit in your saddlebags,” Rachel observed as we approached the row of registers.
“Yeah. I’m gonna grab a suitcase. Go ahead and get started, babe.”
She lifted a brow but nodded, unloading the cart and placing items on the belt.
I kept an eye on her the entire time, watching from the aisle where all the luggage was stored on shelves.
They had a display up, which meant I didn’t have to go far.
I found one with a gray hardshell case and picked it up, balancing it on my shoulder as I strode back to Rachel.
She took one look at me, blinked, and pointed to the belt. “Um, just put it there.”
I placed the suitcase on the belt, watching as the cashier finished with our order.
Once I swiped my card and everything was packed in bags, I led Rachel outside.
It took a few minutes, but I managed to fit everything I could into the saddlebags.
Everything else went into the suitcase, which I strapped to the back of my bike above the tire.
It might get dusty, but we could clean it later.
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“The suitcase? Nah. It’ll be okay for a couple of hours.”
Rachel kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Crypt.”
“My pleasure, Brown Eyes.”
She loved it when I called her that, shyly turning her head, but not before I saw her lips twitch with a smile.
At least I could erase some of the sadness in her eyes temporarily until we reached The Crossroads and Hannibal returned. I saw the way he looked at her the day she visited him in prison, then again today outside the rodeo. He loved his daughter and would do anything for her.
I couldn’t explain it, but I knew he wouldn’t fail. He’d bring Rylee back to her mom.
“You hungry?” I asked as she settled behind me on my bike.
“Yes, but I want to get to Tonopah first.”
That made sense. She wanted to be there when Hannibal arrived with Rylee. I didn’t need to hear her say it to know that was how she felt.
“Sounds good.”
The ride to Tonopah felt like only a few minutes, not several hours. Maybe that was because Rachel was on the back of my bike.
A prospect opened the gate once we rolled up, and I glided onto the lot, rolling to a stop.
The Crossroads was a huge compound with several buildings.
At one time, the main clubhouse had been an airplane hangar, but was now enclosed and remodeled to house the club members, plus the chapel, bar, and other rooms that were needed.
I’d never been inside, but my mom had. She wrote to me about it in one of her letters, and I could see it hadn’t changed too much in the last twenty years.
Sure, the tech was updated, but much of the structures remained the same.
Razor wire topped the fence that surrounded the perimeter, and I caught quite a few cameras that recorded from every angle.
The GBMC wasn’t messing around. They would know as soon as someone tried to fuck with them.
It didn’t surprise me. Grim seemed like the type of president who cared about his club, members, their families, and their safety.
These were the men my mother described, and so did my father in his letters to her.
Lockjaw loved this club, Grim, his brothers, and the MC life.
It was in my blood.
I parked my bike, unsure which space to choose, and ended up at the end of a long row. I didn’t want to step out of line and do something stupid or offensive on my first day.
Rachel seemed jittery and nervous as we stood. “Crypt?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’d feel better if I held your hand.”
Damn. That was sweet. I tethered our fingers and approached the entrance, entering beneath a sign that read THE CROSSROADS. It was metal and rusted, but fit the vibe.
Inside the bar, Grim waited. The area was packed with members drinking, playing pool, or seated around the bar. I noticed there weren’t any club girls, ol’ ladies, or non-members. Instantly on alert, I nodded to Grim.
“You brought Rachel,” he observed, glancing at our clasped fingers. “And Hannibal?”
“Getting my daughter back,” Rylee declared, speaking loud and clear enough that everyone heard. “She was kidnapped.”
A few men cursed, others grumbled, but kept it low enough that Grim could be heard when he spoke.
“He went after his granddaughter alone?” Grim asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “Said I should bring Rachel to The Crossroads, and he’d meet us here once he had Rylee.”
Grim didn’t answer but ticked his chin toward Rael. “Go. Take Shadow and Exorcist.”
“You got it, Pres.” Rael strode from the room without a glance in our direction.
Grim cleared his throat. “This is Lockjaw’s son, Crypt.”
Members stood around the room, some of them staring at me with surprise, others dipped their chins with respect for the loss that not only the club suffered, but also Lockjaw’s only biological son. My sister Michelle and I were his only children.
Grim ticked his chin toward the chapel. “We need to talk, Crypt.”
I figured as much. Nodding, I turned to Rachel. “I’ll be back soon.”
She blinked, wide-eyed. “Crypt.”
I wasn’t sure how many of the club members she’d met over the years, but I sensed she was uncomfortable. It was bold, but I decided to stake my claim on Rachel and let the club know she was mine.
My head lowered, and I slipped my arm around her lower back, pressing her close as I captured her lips. I held the kiss as long as I dared with Grim waiting, then released her. It boosted my ego to see she looked a bit dazed. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay.”
Grim had walked across the bar to a door that had to be the chapel while he waited, arms folded across his chest. He appeared impatient. “Get in here, Crypt.”
I picked up the pace, joining him before he shut the door.
As I glanced around the space, I saw a wooden table with the Graven Bastards MC logo etched into the surface and a giant metal Grim Reaper hanging on one wall.
Framed cuts also lined the wall space, and I stopped when I saw Lockjaw on one of the patches.
“It’s been here since he died,” Grim informed me. “But I think it’s been waiting for you, son.”
Now, I wasn’t a kid. Hell, I was over thirty, but compared to Grim, I was much younger. I didn’t take offense.
“He loved the club,” I replied. “I saw the letters he wrote my mom. Even kept a few journals. No club secrets,” I assured Grim, “but observations about his life, marriage, and his children. He couldn’t wait to teach me to ride or watch me patch into the Graven Bastards.
” I almost choked up and had to stop talking.
Grim squeezed my shoulder. “Yeah, Lockjaw was always sitting with a notepad and doodling shit or writing in it. He’s got a whole box full of them. I kept them in storage. He requested I give them to you if you ever wanted to ride with the club.”
Wow. I didn’t know that. “Can I see them?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got to make this official tonight. In front of the club. It’s your turn to take the Devil’s Ride. You do that, and everything in Lockjaw’s journals is gonna make a hell of a lot more sense.”
“I can’t leave Rachel. I gave Hannibal my word.”
“Fair enough. We ride once Hannibal returns.”
“I appreciate that, Grim, err, Pres.” I wasn’t sure which to call him yet.
“Grim for now. pres once you’ve survived the Devil’s Ride.”
“Survived?”
He chuckled. “You’ll see.”
“What about Rachel?”
“She’s Hannibal’s daughter. Every member in the club already knows who she is and will protect her.”
“And if I want her as my ol’ lady?”
He snorted. “You gotta take that up with Hannibal.”
Yeah, I thought so.
From the looks I had already gotten from him, I didn’t think he was too keen on me dating or claiming his daughter. But this wasn’t his decision. That belonged to Rachel.
Hannibal would have to accept it.