CROW (Graffiti Street Guardians MC Book 4) Read online

  CROW

  Graffiti Street Guardians MC

  Brynn Hale

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  Copyright © 2020 by Brynn Hale

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contact Brynn at [email protected] for more information.

  Acknowledgment

  Thank you to authors Lana Dash, Tarin Lex, Mazzy King, Kali Hart, Kate Tilney, Ava Pearl, and Carly Keene, for making this story and this adventure amazing and inspiring. <3 Brynn

  Contents

  1. Graffiti Street Guardians Rules

  2. Crow

  3. Sasha

  4. Crow

  5. Sasha

  6. Crow

  7. Sasha

  8. Crow

  9. Sasha

  10. Sasha

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  1

  Graffiti Street Guardians Rules

  Protect those who can’t protect themselves, at all and any costs.

  Don’t go looking for trouble. Stay clean, but any legal offenses go to Sgt at Arms first.

  Plausible Deniability: if they can’t prove it, it didn’t happen. Tell the cops you don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about and leave. If they arrest you, see #2.

  Club business isn’t anyone but club members’ business. Keep your traps shut or the Prez will shut it for you.

  The Club Angels get their happy ending before you get yours. Always. Protect them and yourself. If we hear of any skin-to-skin, you’re gone before you come.

  If you claim a woman as yours, you treat her like she’s your queen. We have holes in the desert already dug. Don’t make us use them.

  These rules are permanent, unlike your membership. Don’t fuck with either of them.

  Your actions will be judged on Earth. Your soul will be judged by God. Make sure you’re okay with what you take with you to eternity.

  Terms:

  Bins—rooms at the compound

  Manded—reprimanded member

  Angel—sex workers who work the club

  Twisted Sisterhood Sanctuary—aka TSS, women’s shelter that is run by Gia Maldese

  Hard Brake—Gia’s bar that’s connected to TSS and the Graffiti Street Guardians MC

  Seclusion—when a Guardian has to stay in their personal bin.

  LEO—Law Enforcement Officer

  Line up of MC:

  Position—GSMC Name and Real Name

  President—Slater (Drew Westin)

  V.P—Vice (Thane Jackson)

  Blade—Sgt at Arms (Caleb Lyons)

  Crow—Security (Lennox Wright)

  Snake—Machines and Equipment (Jason Crue)

  Hades—Fire/pyro (Henry Parker)

  Biz—Numbers guy (Smith Azaria)

  Pledges:

  Numi—Eiji Tarrington

  Radio—Ozzy Monroe

  Coyote—Tory Florence

  Sandy—Blake Dakar

  2

  Crow

  Six months ago, I was outted. No, like that. Not that I have any issues with anyone being who they are, but I’m straight. No, I was pretending to be someone else and the truth came to light when I least expected it.

  When I moved to Kildare, Nevada, I assumed my twin brother’s identity—Landon Wright. Why? Fuck, I’m sure a therapist would have a heyday with that one. On the surface, because I worshipped him and I wanted to be him. Deeper down, because I wasn’t him and I never would be him.

  Landon was the hero—he actually saved people from a fire and joined the military. I was the fuck-up who couldn’t do anything right, landing up in jail, which gave me the skills to fight, but that’s about all. Petty shit, nothing felony or harming people. I stole a car and I got nabbed for pot once—nothing that wouldn’t now be legal in Nevada, but back then it was completely illegal in Texas. I think still is, but that just shows how long it’s been since I’ve been back home to Austin, Texas. I left five years ago, made my way here for contract work as a carpenter, and then stayed when I realized no one knew the old me. And then I found the Guardians.

  Landon was the warrior. I was the one who had asthma and back when I tried to join with Landon at my side, the Army told me I wasn’t qualified, but they had him signing on the dotted line faster than I could blink.

  Landon was the guy who got the ladies. I stopped trying after twenty years went by. Sure, here at the Graffiti Street Guardians MC I could have a club Angel any time I wanted, but I figured paying for sex was even lower than being a virgin at thirty-seven years old. Plus, I like my money in my pocket. I’ve hired one for a date a couple of times, but never fulfilled her destiny—they seemed fine with it and I know for a fact that not all the Guardians use the Angels for sex. Plenty just want companionship.

  So that’s me. A liar. A loser. And a virgin. I couldn’t get more fucked up if I tried.

  “Crow, office. Now.” The President of the club, Slater, calls out my name and instantly, I feel like I’m going to the principal’s office. I’ve tried to fly under the radar ever since he found out that I lied on my application to the club. But since he married my niece, Della, my brother’s child—another thing he did, left a legacy. She thought I was him. Obviously, that was a huge disappointment.

  Even more depressing to had to tell her that my brother died four years ago. He was a part of the Red Star Rebel Squad; some might call them mercenaries—but they call themselves “Soldiers of Fortune.” At least they did. I was told that their squad ended their run when Landon died.

  “What’s up, Prez?” I ask, standing in the doorway.

  “Come in and close the door.”

  Great.

  He points the chair in front of his desk. “We have a new sister coming in on the bus this evening, I need someone to go get her.”

  The Guardians sponsor a shelter for women—the Twisted Sister Sanctuary.

  “Okay. I can.”

  “She’s not going to come easy though. She’s already punched the bus driver. I called in a favor and I think I’ve gotten those charges erased, but if she does anything more, she’ll be sitting in jail tonight.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. I’ve already lined up legal counsel, just in case, but we’ll see.”

  “So, what do you know about her?”

  He holds up a picture.

  “Whoa. She’s gorgeous.” Long onyx ringlets fall from her head.

  “And she’s pregnant. Three months, sounds like it.”

  “Shit. And she’s punching people? She…crazy?”

  Slater leans back and crosses his arms across his wide chest. Most of the Guardians are beefy and burly, but not me. Just another thing I can’t do—put on weight. I’m not skin and bones, but I don’t have bulk. Doesn’t mean I can land a mean right hook, but it does mean that I have to be faster and smarter when I land them to get the hell out of the way when someone with fifty pounds on me tries to take a good swing.

  His face fades from any emotion. “She’s ex-military, so it’s reasonable to say PTSD, maybe night terrors, and sounds like the baby’s daddy wasn’t so excite
d that she was pregnant and kicked her out.”

  “So, her opinion of men right now is probably shit all the way around.”

  He rubs his hands down his face. “Probably. You want me to send Blade instead?”

  Blade, the Guardian’s member doctor, did have a way with the ladies. But he would check her over tomorrow. It was sometimes better to have someone else pick the new sister up so that they had someone else to hopefully trust, too.

  I shook my head. “No, he and Anna are already in his personal bunker and I don’t see them coming out anytime soon.”

  Slater chuckled. “Newlyweds. I remember those days.”

  “You just got married five months ago.” I huff at him. “I’ll get her.” I stand. “Send me the specifics and that picture, please.”

  “Will do. Turn on that Crow charm.”

  Charm? When’s that ever come in handy?

  3

  Sasha

  The bus brakes squeak to an annoying halt. The driver’s gaze meets mine in the large mirror above his head.

  “Kildare. Time to get off…everyone.”

  I wait until everyone has left the bus. I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder. The bus driver stands and I slowly walk past him.

  “Bye Gene…” I give him my best smile.

  “Sasha, you’re never allowed on a Coast-to-Coast bus, ever again.”

  “What?” I feign shock. “If you’d just have let me off at that stop, I wouldn’t have gone all cave woman.”

  Gene’s eyes soften and I recall the same look from my grandfather months before he died. I never got to say goodbye to the one man who treated me like I mattered in his life.

  “Sasha, the Twisted Sisterhood Sanctuary are wonderful people. Don’t let your past keep you from seeing what you can have in your future. I wish you well.” His arms wrap around me and I stiffen as his hug takes me back to better days. Days I can’t recall over the

  I turn and practically run down the steps of the bus, tears smear my vision and I run smack into a hard body at the bottom.

  “Hey.” The soft timbre of his voice settles into me and settles me.

  I should push off his body, but I don’t. I fight to stop the tears and then I just fight.

  I start pounding on his chest, but he doesn’t fight back. I pound harder, but he just stands there. A stone statue.

  “Fight back!” I yell, my vision a blur.

  “No.”

  “I said fight me!”

  “No.”

  “What kind of man doesn’t fight?” I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tears. I look up and his snake-skin-like eyes—a mottled brown and green—still me.

  “Hi Sasha. I’m Crow and none of the Guardians hit women. None.”

  I’m sure there’s one. There’s always one.

  Gene’s voice straightens my back. “Hey, Crow, thanks. I’ll see you next week.”

  “We’ll be here. Thanks for getting her safely and hey,” he steps around me, “This is for that shiner that Mohammed Ali gave you.” He hands over a small ice pack and an envelope.

  “You’re buying me from him?” I ask, crossing my arms.

  Gene shakes his and looks in the envelope, dropping the contents in his hand. “It’s ibuprofen for pain, Sasha.” He steps back up into the bus. “Good luck, Crow. You’re gonna need it.”

  I make sure to set my face in my usual hard position. “I don’t want to be here.”

  Crow picks up my bag and starts walking. “Let’s get going.”

  “Didn’t you hear me?”

  He stops and look back over his shoulder, “Yes, Sasha, I heard you, but I don’t believe you.”

  His eyes skim over my body and I feel…annoyed.

  I always feel some degree of mad. And degrees of sad. And a hundred emotions that aren’t happy. Never happy. Unless I’m thinking about my baby, then I’m closer to happy, but never happy.

  I swipe a hand over my hair. I’m sure it’s looking pretty gnarly after three days of bus rides, no shower, and very little care.

  He steps back to me, big black motorcycle boots clacking against the concrete while his well-worn jeans shape to his slim, but solid form. “Here’s the thing. Let’s get you cleaned up, fed, and rested. We’ll have the club doctor check you and your baby out and then you get to decide what you want to happen after that.”

  “I don’t trust doctors. They just want to shove pills down your throat.”

  “Okay, you’ll get to meet him and if you don’t trust him, we’ll find you someone else.”

  I don’t want to believe him, but something inside of me is trying to. He’s different. No nonsense. Simply straightforward. And part of me, the part between my legs, is listening. The slickness and heat make me uncomfortable in my dress. I’m trying to tell myself it’s the June Nevada heat, but it’s not. It’s something I can’t let happen.

  It’s me and my baby. That’s all.

  4

  Crow

  “Hey, Gia. This is Sasha.” I introduce her to Gia Maldese the manager of the Twisted Sisterhood Sanctuary.

  Gia extends a hand, but Sasha just stares at it. Gia smiles, the motion reaching her eyes, making tiny fine lines that betray her age. Some days I think she’s in her late thirties and some days I’d say definitely forties. “Hey, Sasha. It’s good to have you here. I’m glad that our Sisterhood in New York called us.” She nods her head. “We have a room for you and some new clothes. Would you like to eat or shower first?”

  “Shower,” she mumbles.

  “Okay, we’ve got her from here, Crow.”

  Her head snaps to me and her eyes widen. “You’re leaving me?”

  My chest burns. “No. I’ll stay right here and wait for you, Sasha. We can have a late dinner together.”

  Gia’s dark eyes soften. “Is there something specific you’d like to eat?”

  Sasha doesn’t look at Gia, only me. “Just no peppers, they’re giving me heartburn.”

  “I’m sure we can find something.”

  “But you won’t go anywhere?”

  I shake my head. “I promise.”

  “Okay. I’d like that shower, please.”

  Gia nods to her left. “Great. Crow, we’ll be back in about a half hour.” Her gaze connects to mine and when Sasha’s back is turned, she mouths. “Get Blade.”

  Concern stampedes through my stomach like a wild horse. Something isn’t right.

  I nod.

  Sasha looks back. “Thank you.” She turns back around, and I watch her shapely hips teeter-totter away from me.

  She’s scared and probably grabbing ahold of anyone who will make her feel better.

  I’m basically a human blanket to her right now, something she can hold on to. But for a moment I let myself believe that her desire to keep me close might be a little more. Maybe this is my chance to be a little like my brother.

  I knock on Blade’s door. There’s no answer.

  I stand back and text him.

  Crow: Need the doc at TSS

  Blade: 10-4, need 10, b out.

  I decipher the short message. Got it. Need ten minutes then I’ll be out.

  Thankfully, the walls are thick in this place and anything that’s happening inside the room isn’t. I helped to construct the 10x10 rooms that the members get and those of us in leadership get a 16X16 room. I don’t live here every night. I have a nice little bungalow that’s a duplex about ten minutes away. I prefer to sleep there, but I have a commitment being here on my off hours and sometimes the drive back and forth is just too much. Plus, my bike’s been acting up, so I’m driving my ’67 Ford F-250 and I’m thinking she’s looking at her last days. Old blue has gotten me though some tough times and been there since high school, but sometimes you just have to let go of what’s not getting you from point A to point B.

  I have the money to buy a new truck, I just hate salespeople. They're smug and they seem to think they have the right to make it as difficult as possible to make you want to buy
from them. Just let me look. Let me figure out what I want and then I’ll come to you with a number I’m willing to pay. You accept, great. You don’t, I walk. Most don’t like my method. I don’t like drama, so I give them the option of taking it or leaving it. It’s been two years since I even tried.

  I’m back in the Sanctuary when an hour later she comes out. The flowing dress she had really hid her belly. I can’t imagine she’s only three months along, but what the fuck do I know about pregnancy? Less than nothing considering my…status.

  Her eyes do that constant darting thing, like a newly trapped feral dog. I imagine she could bite someone and part of me thinks it might not be a bad thing.

  Her hair is drying into ringlets like in the picture. Before it looked soft, but fluffier like the ringlets didn’t have shape.

  Her skin shines in the florescent lighting and she just radiates…a glow. I try to divert my gaze, but it’s impossible. I’m taken. This broken little pup needs me. She’s out of her shelter and she’s scared about everything. But if there’s one thing I know, she’s able to bare her teeth and she’s not afraid to snap.

  “Dr. Lyons,” Gia speaks his name.

  I turn and Blade’s in casual clothes—dockers and a polo, a little more doctorly and less motorcycle club like.

  “Hello, Sasha, right? I’m Doctor Caleb Lyons and I’d like a minute to check you over, is that okay?”

  She nods, but her hands are fisted at her sides. “Can…can he come?”

  Blade’s eyebrows go up. “Crow?”

  She doesn’t look at me, but she nods, just one quick flick.