Chapter 1 Raven
Ten years ago –
“You’re headin’ out now?” Rook asked, eyeing the sky like I’d lost my damn mind.
“Sarah needs me,” I slurred, reaching for his shoulder and missing it as I stumbled.
He caught me before I could faceplant on the asphalt, pushing me against the cold concrete facade of The Roost’s exterior. “I know you’re hurtin’, brother. Damn near kills me to see you like this.”
“I lost him, Pres,” I mumbled in agony. “I lost my son.”
He didn’t argue that my boy had never been born or that the miscarriage at thirty-two weeks didn’t mean I ever had a living child. Rook understood I’d already bonded to my kid and felt him moving in Sarah’s womb.
I’d heard his fast, perfect heartbeat through the monitor and watched his little arms and legs kicking at the three ultrasounds I’d gone to, in awe of his sweet little soul.
And now . . . he was gone.
“I can’t pretend to understand that hurt, Asmon. It’s too fucking awful to comprehend.”
Comprehend? Was that even possible? Because I. Was. Gutted.
Last month I’d shown those fucking ultrasound pictures to the entire club, so goddamn excited to be a father that it never occurred to me something so wonderful could be cruelly yanked away.
Pushing forty, I thought the chance to have kids had passed.
When Sarah conceived, I felt complete. I had my wife and my son, and that was all I needed besides my club. Life was good . . . until it wasn’t.
Loving that hard, that deeply, and then having someone rip that person from your life left a bitterness behind that soured everything and everyone else around you.
I was a broken man.
That tiny life sparked joy and light, a peace and hope for the future that I never expected with the life I led.
An outlaw shunned by polite society, I didn’t care about shit like good neighborhoods and expensive private schools.
That changed when Sarah’s pregnancy test showed positive.
My heart had believed for the first time that I could be a man worthy of a second chance, of raising a kid who’d grow up better than I did, with all the opportunities I never got.
When he died, he took all of that with him.
The absence of my son left a dark void behind. I became a shell of the man I’d been, harboring anger, resentment, and so much pain that it ate me up inside. I could hardly function.
It wasn’t fair to Sarah. She lost the baby she’d been growing inside her. A miracle child she never thought she’d get to have, and it shattered her when she lost him.
A miscarriage. The doctors said there was nothing she did wrong. It wasn’t her fault.
She blamed herself anyway.
I turned to alcohol, and she withdrew from the world. My nights were spent at the bar, dulling the pain. Her days were nothing but a blur, spent in bed and ignoring the world. We grew apart until we were nothing more than strangers sharing the same house.
Months later, nothing changed.
And that was how I ended up here on another day fated to change my world forever. Through bloodshot eyes, I scanned the Nevada skyline, watching as a haboob blew in from the west—a strange word for an act of nature.
The dust-laden whirlwind moved across the region and toward Henderson, blowing hot, dry air and kicking up sand, marked by high electrical tension and strong winds bearing clouds of dust that swirled so thick they blocked out the sky.
They could last from a few minutes to an hour and were incredibly unpredictable.
Visibility was reduced to near zero in mere minutes during a haboob and blocked out the sun fast. If you happened to be motoring down the highway or riding, as I never used a cage much, it could become life-threatening.
Winds gusted upward of seventy miles per hour or higher.
Pile-up collisions and highway accidents happened often.
Dangerous . . . and I didn’t care.
“I need to get back to Sarah.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. I did need to go home and check on her; I just didn’t have to risk my safety in the process. Not that it stopped me.
Maybe I wanted to face that danger and feel something besides rage and loss and agony.
Rook saw right through me. “This isn’t about Sarah.” He slammed me up against the wall, pissed. “You got a death wish? Want to ride into that storm and see what awaits you in the afterlife? I can’t stop ya, Raven.”
“Fuck off, Rook.”
We weren’t the president and vice president of the club at that moment. No, we were two best friends, one fighting to stay alive and the other battling to keep him afloat in a sea of despair and agony.
“Fuck off?” he snarled, lifting his fist and slamming it into the wall. “Go. Race into hell if you want.” His chest heaved as he stared at me, his features twisted in pain. “I can’t watch you suffer anymore.”
Blinking, I no longer felt the effects of the liquor in my bloodstream.
All that settled within me, leftover from the void I’d fallen into, was heartbreak.
I huffed a couple of deep breaths as my body shook.
All that pain was flooding my system with unresolved emotion.
I didn’t want to let it loose, not here.
The storm could absorb my fury but not Rook. I wouldn’t do that to him.
“I have to,” I choked, forcing breath into my lungs, “I’ve got to do this.”
He grabbed the collar of my cut, his forehead pressing to mine. “Don’t you die on me, you stubborn sonofabitch. Face your demons. Do what you need to do but come back for church tomorrow. I need my V.P.” He swallowed hard. “I need my best friend.”
Fuck. My hands gripped his shoulders, using him to anchor myself to the ground before I collapsed to my knees. “I’ll be back,” I swore.
His head lifted, the pain he felt on my behalf a shocking reminder that I didn’t ride this life alone. I shared the path with my brothers in the Devil’s Murder MC.
A caw caught my attention, and I noticed the black crow that landed on the roof nearby. He fluffed his feathers, preening as he pranced around on two feet.
And I also had my crow. The black raven never left me, even when I blocked him out. He was as integral as the veins and arteries pumping blood throughout my body.
I’d been a fool.
The storm was blowing in, swirling dust and debris in the air around us. I had to leave. The sudden urgency didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t ignore its call.
My crow opened its beak, the black beady eyes staring with purpose. Caw...caw.
I had to follow.
Rook watched as I rushed from his side, throwing a leg over my bike as I slammed my ass down on the seat.
I yanked a bandana out of my cut, tying it off behind my neck.
It would protect me when the worst of the storm caught up.
My sunglasses slid on, anchored over my ears, and held in place by the black band I used on occasion so the wind wouldn’t rip them off my face.
I was out the gate in less than twenty seconds, gliding across the pavement and merging onto the road, riding hard toward the edge of town.
The storm was hot on my heels, blowing past me and churning up a wicked mix of sand, rocks, and cactus needles.
My skin pricked with irritation as I lowered my head, pulled back on the throttle, and raced against the wind.
A strip of black streaked by on my right, whipping through the high-velocity current. More debris smacked me in the face and scratched the back of my head and neck. Fully immersed in the storm, I sank my body lower, gripping those handlebars as tightly as possible.
It must have lasted at least ten minutes before it occurred to me that I couldn’t see shit, and this was a fucking death wish. If I slammed into a cage, I’d fucking splat against the asphalt in a blob of red goo. For the first time since my child’s death, I realized I didn’t want to die. Not yet.
Someday I would see him, and maybe if there was a God, he’d let me hold my son and stare into his perfect face. Perhaps I’d get to watch him grow up and hear him call me Dad. It was a secret wish I’d hold onto for many years into the future.
I slowed down the bike, fishtailing all over the damn road before pulling into a ditch. A strong gust whipped my clothes around my body, and I lay down my Harley, rising to my feet.
Arms outstretched, I lifted my chin and faced the full brunt of the storm. I couldn’t say how many times I felt punched, smacked, and beaten by that invisible force. It nearly knocked me down a dozen times. My will was stronger . . . and so was my grief.
In agony, my mouth opened, and I hollered into the wind, unleashing all that emotion I’d kept bottled up inside.
The hate. The rage. All the accusations and pain.
Every ounce of bitterness that had taken root in my soul.
I pushed back, shouting, crying, groaning my sorrow into that vicious, bloodthirsty whirlwind of dust that pummeled my body as I stood in its way.
A solid barrier that refused to back down.
It must have been half an hour before the churning mass of destruction finally stopped, dissipating as quickly as it had started. Even though I had on the bandana, my lungs still felt irritated. I coughed, wheezing a little as I breathed.
Caw...caw.
The crow. He didn’t leave me. That fucking bird with its inky feathers raised its beak and defied the heavens, swooping down to land at my feet.
“You have my attention,” I replied gruffly, choking down the dry air in my throat. He turned, flopping around a few times before lifting and flying to a nearby tree. He landed on a branch.
Caw...caw.
“You want me to follow.”
His head bobbed.
“Give me a minute.”
I always carried a gallon of water in my saddlebags in case of emergency.
Lifting my Harley, I pushed it upward and kicked down the stand. Rummaging around in the bags, I found the water and twisted off the cap, dousing my tongue and swishing around the contents in my mouth, spitting out the remnants of sand.
The crow flapped his wings, clearly impatient.
“Alright. I’m comin’.”
He flew off once I was ready, turning the front tire to merge onto the road as I kept him in view. Smoke billowed into the air in the distance. Black, thick. The type of smoke that only occurred with a fire.
“Shit,” I cursed, pulling back on the throttle to increase my speed, shifting gears as I rode fast toward the location.
I didn’t know what I expected to find, but it wasn’t the black Mustang that crashed at an intersection.
The front end had smashed into the traffic light, probably due to the limited visibility of the storm.
Nothing of the windshield remained. Glass had shattered across the pavement, followed by streaks of blood.
Red asphalt. Just like those old videos they used to show us as teens so we wouldn’t drive recklessly.
A body lay face down, not too far from the driver’s side. As I approached, I squatted down, staring at the poor kid who never stood a chance. He probably didn’t wear a seatbelt. A mistake he’d never get a chance to repeat. His head resembled a squashed pumpkin.
“Fuck,” I whispered, turning toward the vehicle.
Black smoke was pouring from the engine, and I could smell gas. I hoped no one else was inside as I ran to the right, gazing into the interior.
“Shit!” I shouted, seeing the young girl strapped inside, her legs crushed by the front end. Brown hair obscured her face from view. She didn’t move.
I stuck a hand through the bare window, pressing my fingers to her carotid artery—nothing. . . and then, thump, thump.
She was alive.
How the fuck would I get her out of there?
Yanking on the door, I managed to open it, reaching inside to see if I could pull her free. No luck. The metal had scrunched, pinning her body to the seat. Her right leg was fine. The left was stuck.
Something exploded inside the engine, and I winced, lowering my head inside the vehicle to see if there was a way to move her leg and wrestle it from the tight space.
Fuck no. Nothin’ was ever that easy in my world.
Caw...caw.
“Unless you have two hands and the Jaws of Life, I suggest you stop yelling at me.”
Amused, the crow tittered.
I didn’t have time for this. The girl needed to be extricated. Fast.
I moved to the side, lifted my leg, and slammed my boot above her lap. The car creaked with the impact. Maybe I was fucking stupid because we could both die if I damaged the engine any further. I kicked at the dashboard again, cursing when a piece of it dislodged, flying across the driver’s seat.
“Motherfucker!”
Two more kicks finally smashed the area above her legs. She was free!
I reached for the seatbelt, taking far too long to get it unbuckled. Fumbling with the latch, I cursed at the delay. My hands slipped beneath her body as I felt the entire vehicle shudder. No!
I pulled the girl into my arms and spun, running as my boots pounded the ground, desperate to reach safety. We made it about ten feet before an explosion rocketed through us, the force propelling me forward. I soared through the air, landing hard as I rolled, the breath knocked from my lungs.
I’d cradled the body in my arms, hoping not to cause additional injuries. The poor girl flopped over my chest, her face inches from mine.
And the whole world stopped.
I didn’t hear the mini-explosions that followed, the screeching metal, or the rumble of Harley engines. My mind never registered the flames that hissed not far from us or the heat that spurred my body to sweat.
No amount of shouting from Rook or my club mattered.
Two pretty green eyes stared, framed by a beautiful heart-shaped face. Green eyes that seemed bottomless, swirling with a splash of marigold. Eyes that speared my soul, striking a bullseye I never wanted to escape.
“Hey, babygirl,” I whispered with a rasp. “You’re safe.”
She blinked, almost breaking the intense connection between us, but locked eyes once more.
I couldn’t help thinking about all the shit that led me to this moment, all the pain, anger, and loss . . . that brought me to my destiny.
No matter what awaited me in the future, I hoped this wasn’t the last time I stared into this angelic face.
Before today, I didn’t believe in fate.
After this, I couldn’t deny its potent power.