Rain “Rebel” Crawford
Hennessy and grief didn’t fucking mix. My body felt heavy as I sat up on the couch and reached for the sonogram instead of the half-empty bottle.
I still couldn’t believe Rose had been pregnant, and she still went through with the bank robbery.
That was Rose, though. She was so damn loyal she’d put everyone else before herself, and in the end, it cost her everything, her life and the life of my unborn niece or nephew.
Shit, losing Rose had already damn near broken me, but finding out a month ago that she’d been carrying a baby had me even more fucked up.
Ever since then, I’d been on an emotional tailspin.
Every time I looked at that sonogram, I wasn’t just reminded that my sister was gone.
I was reminded that I had a niece or nephew who never even got the chance to be born, and that hurt almost as much as losing Rose herself.
After a few seconds, I finally pulled my eyes away from the mirror and reached for the light switch.
Then I clicked it off and walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. I swung open the refrigerator door and frowned.
The only thing sitting inside was a carton of milk.
I picked it up and checked the date before immediately wrinkling my nose.
It expired days ago. Between the date and the smell, there was no way in hell I was eating cereal or drinking any of it.
Damn, I needed to go to the grocery store, but I wasn’t in the mood.
So, I settled on the next best thing and grabbed my phone off the counter.
Just as I was scrolling through the app, it suddenly rang.
The caller ID flashed Crow Speed Shop, and I answered on the second ring.
“Yeah?” I answered.
“Good morning, Mr. Rebel,” the receptionist, Kerri, said politely. “I’m calling in regard to your motorcycle.”
“Mr. Rebel.”
I frowned. “I ain’t no damn man.”
“Oh, my apologies,” she said quickly. “I saw you at the shop and thought you were one.”
“Don’t let the baggy clothes fool you. I’m all woman. Now what’s this call about?”
“Unfortunately, we won’t be able to complete the repairs at this time.”
My eyebrows pulled together. “And why the fuck not?”
There was a brief pause before she answered. “Because the parts needed for the repair are no longer available through our suppliers.”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. There was no way I was getting a call like this after my bike had been sitting in their shop for days.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m sorry. We’ve exhausted all available options.”
“Put your boss on the phone,” I demanded.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Crow isn’t available at the moment,” the receptionist replied. “However, you’re welcome to pick up your motorcycle today.”
Before I could ask another question, the line went dead. I slowly lowered the phone from my ear and stared at the screen. Something about the conversation didn’t sit right with me. Crow Speed Shop had been working on my bike for almost a week.
Crow had worked on every motorcycle I’d owned over the years, and not once had he ever called me saying he couldn’t find a part. The whole thing smelled funny.
Just as I was about to head out to check on my motorcycle, I remembered I needed to check in with Sarah.
I made it a point to call her once a week to see how my portfolio was doing and whether there were any new investment opportunities worth looking into.
I pulled out my phone and hit her number. It rang once.
Then twice.
Before the third ring, the call went straight to voicemail.
I frowned.
That was odd. Sarah always answered my calls.
Then again, I did have one hell of a hangover, so maybe it was for the best that I didn’t talk to her right now. My head was pounding, my mouth felt dry as hell, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to discuss stocks, investments, or market trends.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and figured she was probably tied up with another client or stuck in a meeting. There was no sense overthinking it. I’d just give her a call later. My headache was still pounding behind my eyes, but curiosity outweighed the hangover.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of Crow Speed Shop.
The moment I stepped out of my truck, I slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows before storming toward the entrance.
The smell of oil, grease, and burning rubber hit me the second I walked inside.
Engines hummed in the background while mechanics moved around the garage working on different bikes.
Normally, I would’ve taken a second to admire the lineup of motorcycles sitting around the shop that were waiting to be taken care of.
Today, I wasn’t in the mood. Crow was standing near the service bay talking to three mechanics when all four of them turned toward me.
I didn’t slow down or smile. All eyes were on me, but I didn’t give a damn.
“Aye, nigga,” I barked. “What the hell you mean you don’t have the parts to work on my bike?”
The entire garage went silent as Crow’s eyebrows shot up.
“The fuck are you talking about?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.
“Your receptionist told me y’all couldn’t finish the repairs because the parts ain’t available.”
Confusion flashed across his face. “What receptionist?”
I pointed toward the front office. “The one sitting behind the damn desk.”
Crow looked over toward the office before rubbing the back of his neck. Then something clicked behind his eyes. For the first time since I’d known him, he actually looked annoyed.
“That crazy dick-eating bitch,” he muttered more to himself than me.
“What?” I asked, confused.
Crow sighed heavily. “Your part just came in today.”
“What?”
“I literally just told my team to get started on it.”
I looked confused. “Then why the fuck would she tell me otherwise?”
Crow glanced toward the office again. The answer was written all over his face.
And judging by the guilty expression on the receptionist’s face when she peeked around the corner and saw me standing there, I had a feeling this situation had a lot less to do with motorcycle parts and a lot more to do with them fucking.
“I don’t know, but I’ll talk to her.”
“Yeah, you need to, because I don’t play about my bike.”
Crow chuckled and held up both hands. “Alright, sir. I mean, ma’am.”
The mechanics immediately started laughing, and I rolled my eyes.
That nigga always wanted to act like I was a man because I wore baggy clothes and stayed rocking Timbs.
What could I say? They were my favorite boots.
Comfortable, durable, and if somebody got stupid, they were perfect for putting a foot in somebody’s ass.
“Man, shut the fuck up.”
“What?” Crow grinned. “You walk in here dressed like a biker named Steve, barking orders at everybody. Can’t blame a man for getting confused.”
“Keep talking, and I’m taking my business somewhere else.”
“Nah, you ain’t doing that,” Crow shot back. “I’ve been working on your bikes for years. Besides, you’d miss me.”
I shook my head while trying not to laugh. “Your ego bigger than this damn shop.”
“And yet you’re still here,” Crow grinned.
Crow enjoyed pulling my leg and messing with me. He smirked, clearly amused with himself, while I just shook my head. That fool stayed getting on my nerves, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly enjoy it.
The mechanic Fred chimed in. “Boss, leave Rebel alone.”
Crow cut his eyes toward him. “Ain’t nobody bothering Rain.”
“Yeah, aite,” Robert muttered.
The rest of them started laughing, and I frowned.
“The fuck is everybody laughing at?” I said, annoyed.
“Nothing,” Crow answered quickly.
“That’s what I thought,” I said with my arms crossed.
“Whatever, clown. When will my bike be ready?” I grunted.
“When it’s ready,” Crow said.
“That’s not an answer,” I huffed.
Crow normally had my motorcycle finished on time, but I still liked picking with him because I enjoyed getting under his skin. The way he’d sigh, grunt, and threaten to put me out of his shop never failed to make me laugh.
“It’s the only one you’re getting,” Crow said.
Fred laughed. “Good luck, Rebel. We’ve been dealing with his attitude all morning.”
I pointed at Crow. “See? This is why nobody likes your ass.”
Crow cocked his head. “And yet you keep showing up.”
I rolled my eyes. Because he was right. No matter how much we got on each other’s nerves, I always found my way back to his shop.
“Because you work on my bike.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Crow winked.
The mechanics immediately started laughing again.
“The hell is wrong with y’all?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Fred said, trying and failing to keep a straight face.
Crow shook his head and grabbed a wrench from the nearby toolbox.
“Your bike will be ready in two days.” Crow said.
“Two days?” I asked.
“Unless you wanna stand here and stare at me while I work.”
The entire garage erupted with laughter.
“Man, shut the fuck up.”
“What?” Crow grinned. “I figured since you came storming in here looking for me, you couldn’t stay away.”
“Keep dreaming.”
Fred nearly choked trying not to laugh, and I looked between all of them.
“Y’all weird as hell,” I grunted.
“Trust me,” Crow said, glancing toward the front office where the receptionist had disappeared.
“You ain’t the problem.”
Something in his tone made me pause for a second, but I brushed it off.
However, I didn’t understand why she was messing with me.
Crow and I didn’t see each other as anything more than being friends.
Yeah, he clowned on me sometimes, but we never showed interest. I never took any of it as flirting, and I damn sure wasn’t interested in him like that.
As far as I was concerned, he was just a childhood homie.
All I knew was he better keep his bitch in check before I came back and beat her ass because I didn’t tolerate disrespect.