Page 11 of Crow’s Haven (Savage Legion MC #15)

Crow swings one leg over the bike and holds out a hand. “You good climbing up?”

“Yeah,” I say before walking to the opposite side and scrambling awkwardly up onto the seat.

Thankfully, the sidecar on the other side was made with a footrest along the side.

Once I settle into place, I strap my helmet in place and place my hands on his hips.

My thighs are snug against the curve of his seat.

My front is pressed against his back and it feels way more intimate than it should.

Chase gives me a thumbs up. “Way to go, Ladybug. You did it!”

The engine roars to life beneath us and vibrates right up my spine.

The boys cheer as we roll down the driveway and onto the street.

Even though we’re not going far, the wind in my face feels amazing.

And for a minute, I forget that I’m a woman on the run from the law, lying to the man I’m falling in love with.

All I feel is the weight of Crow’s back against my chest and the carefree joy of the moment. I turn my head to look down at the boys, thinking how much I wish that I’d met them before my life blew up. I’d trade my old life for this every single time.

***

We pull up to the school five minutes early. Kids and parents are swarming the parking lot and sidewalk, all vibrating with nervous energy. The moment Crow cuts the engine, Scout jumps out like he’s ready to face the day. Chase lingers in his seat, fidgeting with the strap on his backpack.

Crow crouches beside the sidecar and offers a hand. “Come here, son.”

Chase climbs out but presses himself close to Crow’s side, half-hiding behind his dad’s leg. I come around the other side, kneeling beside him.

“You okay, Chase?” I ask softly.

He nods, but his grip tightens on Crow’s leg.

Scout rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a baby. It’s just school.”

Chase glares at his twin brother. “I’m not a baby!”

Crow raises a brow, stepping in before the teasing escalates. “Hey. Let your brother take his time. This is all new. He’s just taking it all in.”

“You think so?” Chase asks, his voice wobbling slightly.

“Yeah,” Crow says, smoothing a hand down his son’s back. “But listen up, son. You’re gonna love kindergarten. You’ve already met your teacher, remember?”

Chase’s face lights up. “That day we came to check out the school. Mrs. Moran was nice.”

“Yeah, she was. She’s got a lot of cool activities planned for you, like reading books, building stuff, painting and making new friends. You get snacks and story time.”

I say, “That all sounds like fun, right?”

Chase rolls his head back and forth in gigantic nods, as his expression brightens.

Scout elbows him gently. “C’mon. Let’s find out where the Legos are. That’s where the cool kids will be hanging out.”

Chase takes a tentative step towards his brother. Crow gives him a pat on the back and we watch as they wander into the building. I can’t help but notice that Scout struts, while Chase is a bit more cautious.

Crow exhales next to me. “Well, they made it into the building. I hope it turns out to be as great as we made it out to be.”

I glance up into his handsome face. “It doesn’t have to be. In case you haven’t noticed, your boys tend to make their own fun.”

He chuckles, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s true.” He reaches out and puts his hands on my hips, tugging me closer. “You wanna ride out with me for a bit?” he asks, giving me an admiring look.

I can’t look away to save my life. “Where are we going?”

“Out to the clubhouse,” he says casually, like it’s no big thing. “Gotta drop off a carburetor for Ghost. He’s rebuilding an old shovelhead in the shop.”

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, him to invite me into his world, just the two of us. This is us getting to know each other outside of the house.

I nod before I can overthink it. “Sure. I get to ride on the back of your bike again, right?”

He smirks. “You sure as hell aren’t going to fit in those tiny bucket seats my boys fit into on the sidecar.”

“No, I like riding with you better anyway.”

The Savage Legion clubhouse sits behind a line of trees just off a back road I wouldn’t have thought twice about.

From the outside, it looks more like a large brick building with modern doors and windows with a cement porch and steps running along the front of the building.

There are cute miniature potted trees on either side of the front door.

It looks more like a bar than a biker clubhouse.

There’s a garage off to one side, big enough for three bays, and a wide paved lot already filled with parked bikes of every type.

Crow parks near the back and helps me off before unstrapping the carburetor from the saddlebag.

“Come on,” he says. “I’m gonna introduce you to a few of my club brothers.”

I follow him up the steps and through the front door, eager to learn more about this aspect of his life, heart thudding like I’ve just walked into someone else’s world.

The inside isn’t what I expected either.

There is no dim lighting, pool tables with torn felt, or overwhelming stench of beer or smoke.

It’s well-lit and cleaner than I imagined.

A long bar runs along one side of the main room.

It’s clean and well-stocked. Since it’s still early morning, the bar is closed.

A handful of men are lounging on leather couches or nursing coffee mugs.

It looks like regular guys in cuts getting woke up to start their day.

Crow pauses just inside and tips his chin towards the guys. “Morning.”

“You’re up early, Crow,” one of them calls back.

He’s got long dark hair and is talking to a prospect.

When we get closer, I can see the name on his cut is Rigs.

He’s wearing dark clothing and has a cross hanging around his neck.

I’m surprised they have a minister in their club, because for all intents and purposes, he’s dressed just like I would expect a biker man of God to dress.

Crow jerks his chin at the pair. “Rigs, I’d like you to meet Sharon.”

“I heard you finally got yourself some help with those boys,” Rigs responds, eyeing me with a critical eye.

“Yeah, the boys have gotten attached fast,” Crow responds gamely.

“How about you? Are you getting attached as well?”

“You know that I am. How could I not?” Crow says warmly, draping one arm around my waist. Gesturing between Rigs and the prospect he was talking to, Crow asks, “You two looked thick as thieves when we walked in. What’s going on?”

Rigs stills for a second, glancing at me before lowering his voice. “Just club business.”

I’m guessing that means it’s secret biker business.

Crow’s head jerks up to look at Rigs and he offers, “If you need me to, I can drop everything to help you out.”

Rigs shakes his head, “Siege, Tank, Dutch, and Rider are meeting up later. If we need you, we’ll text you.”

Crow dips his head respectfully, “Thanks, brother.”

Rigs’ phone buzzes then. “Well, I hope you and Miss Sharon have a wonderful day, I’ve gotta go.”

When they head out the door, I say, “That’s Ghost leaning on the door of the garage, and Zen’s the quiet one pretending not to listen.”

“I’m not pretending,” Zen mutters from his spot on the couch, lifting his mug. He’s sitting there with his laptop open on his lap.

“Like I said before, this is Sharon.”

I shake Zen’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Crow gives me a little nudge towards the hallway. “Garage’s this way. Come on, I’ll drop this off and then we’ll grab a bite to eat.”

I follow him past a small office, a trophy case filled with patches and old photos, and into the attached garage. Ghost backs through the doorway as we enter. The moment the door swings open, the scent of grease and rubber hits me like a wave.

“Carb,” Crow says simply, as he lays the small part on the counter.

“Thanks brother,” Ghost grins, taking the part with obvious appreciation. “This saves me half a week of waiting for one to be shipped.”

“Glad to help,” Crow replies before we duck back into the main room. A few minutes later, we’re sitting at a high-top near the windows with a platter containing an assortment of breakfast-type food on it.

“This place is nice.” I glance around, letting my gaze wander over the leather couches, pool tables, and the photos and biker memorabilia on the walls. “It’s not what I expected.”

Crow chews for a moment before answering. “Most people expect it to look like a gang hideout or a biker bar.”

“Well…” I shrug. “That was kind of the mental image I had formed in my mind.”

He sighs. “Yeah. We get that a lot. But this isn’t an outlaw club.”

I gaze at him, trying to unpick that in my mind. “I remember you saying something about it before, but I couldn’t quite get my head around it.”

He leans back slightly, relaxing into the conversation.

“The Savage Legion is a three-piece patch club, but we’re not part of the one percent.

We’re what you’d call a family-first charter.

We earn our money legally, pay our dues and are community focused.

Once a year we do fun fair-type fundraisers for a local charity. We do honor rides. That kind of thing.”

“What’s the difference between one percent clubs and those with a family-first charter?”

“One percenters earn through illegal means, such as selling drugs, running illegal guns and even human trafficking. We don’t deal in illegal shit. We’ve got brothers with kids, wives, mortgages. Some of us own businesses. It’s about brotherhood, not crime.”

“And the patches?”

“You won’t find a one percent patch on any of our cuts,” he says. “Every patch we wear is earned by proving we are loyal and trustworthy.”

I glance around at the other men again. They’re joking around now, talking about bikes, work, and sports.

“Your club brothers are a little rough around the edges,” I admit.

Crow nods. “Yeah. Some of us came from harder places than others. We accept each other as we come with no judgments. We believe what’s on the inside is what matters most. Good character is everything to the Legion.”

“Why did you join the Savage Legion, Crow?”

He looks at me for a long moment, before answering.

“I wanted to be part of something bigger than myself. And I wanted my boys to grow up around men who gave a shit, not just about bikes, but about each other. About doing some good in the world. I was a kid once, watching uncles and cousins run wild. I knew I wanted different. So, I built a different life for myself and my family.”

I nod slowly, watching him. “Your found family gave you what your bio family couldn’t.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah. I don’t hate them or anything. I just needed more support than they could offer.”

By the time we finish our conversation, the clubhouse feels less intimidating.

It’s not a den of criminals or a boys-only club filled with secret handshakes and beer cans.

It’s a community, chosen family, patched together by loyalty and grit.

I now understand things about Crow and his club that I didn’t before.

We finish our conversation and our food and hit the road again.

He veers off the direct route and heads towards the coast. The helmet muffles most of the sound, but I can hear the ocean in the distance, taste the salt in the air.

My arms are wrapped around Crow’s waist, resting just above the hem of his jacket.

I hold on easily now. It’s not the death grip of my first ride—it’s softer, more trusting.

Familiar. My chin rests lightly against his back, and I let myself breathe.

Since he’s been so forthcoming with information about himself, his boys, and the club, I want to come clean with him about having a warrant out for my arrest. The thing that has me worried is I don’t think he would look too kindly upon me if he knew my dark secret.

He has a right to know, but I’m fairly certain that he wouldn’t want someone like me around his family.

That thought slams through my mind, leaving me feeling a deep guilt. At first, being at Crow’s was simply a place to lay low, to blend in, and survive. But somewhere between bedtime stories, getting a nickname, and riding on the back of Crow’s bike, the situation stopped feeling temporary.

I close my eyes for a moment and try to quiet the guilt running through my mind.

I have a warrant out for my arrest. No matter how I cut it, I’m not safe anywhere except at Crow’s place.

He doesn’t know he’s harboring a fugitive from justice.

I need to bite the bullet and tell him the truth.

He’s a good man who deserves to know all about me.

The longer I keep it from him the worse it’s going to be.

Especially now I’m falling for him and can’t imagine not having him and his boys in my life.