Chapter 15 Crow
CROW
“Yo, hear the news?” Morris is in the kitchen of the compound, pouring himself a glass of water. “Tiny’s a fucking grandpa.”
“Heard all about it. Your old lady filled me in and showed me pics.” Alice is outside waiting for Morris, so I clap him on the shoulder. “She’s outside waiting for you with Zoey.”
Morris drains the water in a couple of sips and slaps the counter. “Can’t keep the ladies waiting.” He walks past and then stops. “See you at the shop in the morning? You gonna be able to fill in for Leo?”
Even if I didn’t want to fill in for Leo, if a club brother has a need, every one of us will do whatever it takes to be there.
I nod. “First thing.”
Morris rubs his hands together. “Construction plans are just on hold. We’ll get back to it, if that’s what you still want. How’s Birdie’s reno going?”
I nod again. “Almost done.”
Morris cocks his chin. “Something up? You two looked pretty damn smitten yesterday. Something you want to talk about?”
I shake my head, not even sure where to start, what to say. “Thanks, man.” I clap him on the shoulder. “You got a wife and kid waiting. Go on. We’ll catch up another time.”
Morris claps me back but then meets my eyes.
“Heartaches are like headaches,” he says.
“When they come on strong, they take up all the air in the room. Make it hard to see a time when things will feel normal again. But shit always passes,” he reminds me.
“Sometimes you just need a little time and patience.”
I flick him in the gut. “You practicing dad-speak on me, man?”
He’s grinning under his beard. “Go fuck yourself, smartass,” he shouts, and he heads out to meet Alice and Zoey.
I grab a beer from the fridge and walk into my room.
I lie back on the bed and check my phone.
Nothing. No missed calls, no unread texts.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I have three voice mails from that New York number that I assume is my dad.
I just haven’t had it in me to listen. And I still don’t.
After spending an amazing night with Birdie, I don’t know what I expected.
More? I mean, fuck, of course I want more.
After just one taste, I’ll never get my fill of that woman.
Her sighs, her cries, the way she shuddered and licked me…
Fuck. My dick twitches just remembering last night.
But even more than my body, it’s my heart that’s on the line now.
I think about how cool she was this afternoon, and it shatters me—something I didn’t think anyone could do anymore.
Maybe things are moving too fast. Maybe she’s having second thoughts.
I don’t think I disappointed her last night, but who knows?
I don’t want to assume the worst, but it’s hard not to contemplate that she’s decided an ex-con isn’t the best bet for her right now.
Our chemistry is off the fucking charts.
I get along with her kid. I don’t even mind her cooking that reminds me more of prison than I care to admit.
If that doesn’t add up to a future, I don’t think I’ll ever know what one feels like.
I consider texting her, asking if she’s all right, but fuck.
It all feels like me chasing her. This is the part of women I haven’t had to deal with in so long.
I’m as out of practice at understanding them as I am at fucking them.
Does Bridget need space? Does she want me to reach out?
I don’t know, and I’m damned sure whatever I do will be the wrong thing.
That’s just how this day has gone. I ended up giving Arrow the money back and leaving the gig. Once I saw the old man I was supposed to be tailing coming out of the country club with his arm around a young blonde who was definitely not the same woman as the wife who’d hired Arrow, I just felt sick.
When I thought about climbing between cars and taking pictures—giving this woman the proof she wanted to back up her suspicions that her man was cheating…
It all just felt cheap and dirty and wrong.
Taking money when I’m not licensed but should be…
The whole thing made my stomach flip and a feeling of intense dread come over me.
I ended up texting Arrow from my personal phone and telling him I couldn’t do it. He was out on another job, so he just said, Got it, but I could tell he was pissed.
Fuck.
I punch my pillow and roll onto my side, wishing like hell I had a road map for what to do.
Work. Relationships. Friends. This entire reentry into real life would be impossible without this club.
I can’t imagine where I’d be if I didn’t have this place to live, friends who don’t hassle me for rent, and a bunch of guys looking out for me, trying to find me work.
If I look at it that way, on some level, I can respect what Arrow’s trying to do, even if I don’t agree with it or like it.
Since I’m feeling shitty about just about everything, I decide to listen to my voice mails. I can’t feel much worse, so I might as well get everything out of the way.
As I expect, all three calls are from my dad. What I don’t expect is how he sounds.
“Son?” I hear Dad’s voice, but goddamn, he sounds older. More frail. “Son, I heard you’ve been released, and I just… I just… Call me.”
The second message sounds even more tense. I can’t tell if Dad’s angry, pissed off, or some combination of both. “Logan? It’s your father. Call me, son. I want to hear your voice.”
And then the last one. “Logan, it’s…your dad.
I… Ah, never mind…” His voice cracks at the end and gets farther away, as if he’s talking to himself and not to me.
Something inside me cracks open hearing the defeat and the distance in the message.
This time, he does not say call me. He just hangs up the phone.
I grab my pillow and toss it at the wall, desperate to vent some of my pent-up emotions.
My father hasn’t once offered me a place to live.
Always welcome in his home? He loves me?
That’s not the kind of relationship we’ve ever had.
I don’t know what he expects from a call.
A pleasant catch-up? Stories of the murderers and the con artists and other scumbags I did my best to steer clear of so I could stay out of trouble and alive for the last seven years?
Did he think I’d just pack up my nonexistent clothes and nonexistent money and jump in my nonexistent car and drive across the country for a reunion dinner?
I strip off all my clothes and change into shorts.
Tiny’s at the hospital playing granddad.
Morris is home with his family. And me? I’ve got a couple of sad-sounding voice mails and a heart made of stone.
I lace up my running shoes and leave my phone behind. I don’t need anyone. I don’t want anything. I just want it all to be a little easier. And it’s never going to be. So, I walk out the compound door and start running.
The next morning, I get up early and text Tim.
He’s already at the shop, but he wants to go visit his new nephew, so he confirms I should come by as soon as I can to cover him for the day.
I can’t stop thinking about Birdie. About our night together.
About whatever happened to shut things down between us just as fast as they started to open.
It’s early enough that she’s probably already dropped Mia off at school, so I type out a simple text but then delete it.
I toss the phone onto my bed and get dressed, but I’m in agony trying to decide whether I should reach out to Birdie or not.
I’m like a fucking teenager. Gaga over a girl and consumed with indecision about what to do.
If she’s working at Lia’s Canine Crashpad and I’m over at Leo and Tim’s shop, I’m going to see her. I might as well break the seal and take the pain if that’s what’s coming. It’ll make things a lot less awkward later.
Logan: Good morning, gorgeous. Just wanted to wish you a good day.
I’m reading the text over for the thousandth time when Morris knocks loudly on my open door.
“Hey, asshole, I hear you got a job to get to.” He’s got mirrored sunglasses over his eyes, and he’s dangling something in his hand. “For you.”
I grab the set of keys from his hand. “What’s all this?”
“Leo wanted me to give you one of the master keys for the shop so you can come and go as you need to,” he says. “That’s the silver key.”
“And this?” I know by the logo on the black plastic fob exactly what it is, but I have to press him. “Come on, man. What are you doing?”
Morris just nods. “Crow, you need a vehicle and not just your bike or those peg legs.”
“I can’t…”
Morris slides his glasses onto his forehead and looks me over. “Can I be real with you?”
I chuckle. “What would you say if I said no?”
“Fuck off,” he says. “Listen, man. I know better than anybody how long and hard the road is to making something for yourself. Look all around you. Tiny’s just now figuring out how to be in a family after being cut off from his daughter for years.
I found Alice long past the age when an asshole like myself should have hoped for a family, for something real. And now look at me.”
“You ready for all that?” I ask. “Diaper duty, man. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“That’s my point.” Morris is looking me in the eye, now, man-to-man, brother-to-brother.
“I never thought I’d see the day that you’d be back here.
When you went away…” He scrubs a hand over his face.
“You were missed, man. You were missed. A brother, a friend. You belong here. But you’re going to have to accept that being part of this brotherhood isn’t just about riding and bitches and getting wasted.
Not anymore. A lot changed while you were away, and I think it’s for the better. ”
I’m not sure where this little pep talk is going, but I shake my head. “You sure got fucking soft.”