Page 26 of Crow’s Haven (Savage Legion MC #15)

Crow

I sit in Siege’s office after a good night’s sleep, running through every idea I can think of to find Ladybug. Today, Tank and Dutch are present, too. Tank’s always direct, and today’s no different.

“Venom and Rage tracked down the truck driver who picked Ladybug up outside your house. He says your old lady reached out to a cousin who was gonna wire her some cash.”

“He wasn’t gonna talk, but turns out he knew Siege’s old man from back in the day. Knew we were solid, and Rage promised him we were tryin’ to help her,” Dutch says.

I snarl, “I fucking knew it. Now that we know the cousin’s involved, we put the heat on her full-time. She don’t get to play dumb anymore. That cousin knows where my old lady is, and she better start talking before this whole thing blows sideways.”

“I agree. We should pay a little visit to the cousin,” Siege says decisively. “If we squeeze her, she’ll tell us what we want to know.”

Rigs cuts in harshly, “We don’t want to spook her, having a bunch of bikers turn up on her doorstep might backfire. She could call the cops.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I growl, glaring at him. “I say we go. I’ll talk to her. If she gets me hauled in, the rest of you keep eyes on her and follow if she makes a move towards Sharon.”

Rigs points a finger at me. “You’re playing with fire, and you know it. If you get arrested, who is gonna raise your boys?”

I throw my hands up. “Someone needs to take a chance, or we’re gonna be chasing our tails for fucking ever. This risk is mine to take because she’s my old lady. Besides that, she’s not gonna involve the cops, she’s already trying to hide her cousin from them.”

A long silence hangs until Siege finally speaks. “Crow is right. We just need to get the fucking job done.”

And just like that, everyone’s on board. Once our Prez speaks, that’s the end of the discussion.

“Then we gear up and hit the road early,” I say, already thinking ahead.

Siege agrees. “Let’s take a small group of four brothers.

It’ll be me, Crow, Rigs, and Smoke. I’m taking Smoke because something tells me having our club attorney along for the ride helps.

” He glances at Tank, “I want you and Dutch to gather a backup team of six brothers and leave a few hours after we do. Stop on the outskirts of town and bed down for the night. Don’t do anything unless I call in backup. ”

“You got it, Siege,” Dutch replies.

“I want you all geared up but make sure you’re legal. Chances are we’ll have interaction with law enforcement at some point. I don’t want to create more problems for ourselves than we solve in a day.”

We get ready fast. We linger by our bikes for a moment, waiting on Siege. He comes out a few minutes later, arm in arm with Cleo. They share a lingering kiss, his hand fisted in her short hair, before he steps off the porch to join us.

I’m itching to hit the road, my fists tight on the grips.

Just before Siege mounts his bike, all our cell phones buzz with a message from Zen.

He’s mapped our route to the cousin’s house, made hotel reservations for Tank’s team, and sent the latest update on Sharon’s warrant.

The police just posted on their website that the reward has jumped up to twelve thousand dollars for information leading to her whereabouts.

Rigs grumbles, “That means every asshole and two-bit hustler in the state will be looking for her. We need to get to her first.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter. “Who put up that reward money?”

Rigs tucks his phone into his vest pocket before replying, “Likely the boy’s family. This is getting more complicated by the minute.”

Siege cuts in, “This is the only solid, tangible lead we’ve got. We’d best get going before it dries up too.”

Tank nods in agreement. “We need to track the cousin’s communications as quietly as possible, find a pattern. Wait until the cousin feels safe enough to meet up with Sharon.” Turning to me, he adds, “She’ll lead us to your old lady, eventually.”

I rev my engine, as irritation sparks in my chest. “Like Rigs said, we need to get to her right goddamn now, not eventually.”

***

We ride for hours and pull into Hartford in the early afternoon. When we’re within line of sight of the cousin’s house, Rigs asks, “You ready?”

“You sure you want to do this alone?” Siege asks.

I give him a swift chin jerk. “Yeah, Sharon’s my old lady. If anyone’s gonna get the cops called on them, it should be me. Plus, if we all roll into her driveway, she might panic. If it’s just me, she might at least talk to me.”

He nods firmly. “It’s your old lady and therefore your call.”

I swing off my bike and walk the hundred yards or so to her house, boots hitting the pavement with a thud as I walk. I ain’t leaving without answers. I knock, already knowing I won’t take no for an answer.

A woman who looks very much like my Ladybug answers the door. Her expression turns wary the second she catches sight of me. “Hello, what can I do for you today?”

“Are you Sharon Jackson?”

“It’s Ronnie, not Sharon. Can I help you?” She won’t meet my eyes and looks shifty as hell. She also looks scared.

I exhale slowly, steadying my voice even though my pulse is hammering through my veins. “My name’s Crow. I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

There’s a long pause as she stares into my eyes, her guarded silence speaking volumes. She finally replies quietly, polite but tinged with suspicion. “What do you want? She’s not here, I don’t know where she is.”

“Sharon’s safety,” I say, no hesitation. “That’s it. I don’t want to scare her or cause trouble. I just want to help.”

She hesitates, her voice careful and neutral. “She doesn’t need help, especially not from the guy who treated her like shit.”

“Respectfully,” I cut in, stepping closer just a hair, “she’s running from a murder warrant. She needs all the help she can get.”

Her eyes flash. “She’s innocent.”

“I believe that,” I say, meaning every word. “And I wish I’d been more supportive when I learned what happened.”

Another tense silence stretches out. She softens slightly, still wary. “Why should I trust you? You’re an outlaw biker. Why would I risk trusting you?”

“We ain’t outlaws, ma’am,” I say, forcing myself to stay calm. “The Legion protects family. Sharon is family to us now because she’s my old lady. I know she’s scared and I’m at least partially to blame for that. That’s on me. But she deserves better than living on the run.”

She exhales quietly, frustration and conflict in her face. “Even if that’s true, she might not see it that way. Let me talk to her first.”

“Of course,” I say, jerking my chin towards Siege and Rigs to signal we’re good. “Talk to her. Tell her we’ll keep her safe. Tell her she has options beyond running. We’ve got a club attorney, he’s good. Maybe together we can figure out how to get her outta this mess.”

She sighs heavily, clearly torn. “Fine. Wait here. I’ll call her. Your friends can wait on the porch.”

I motion for Siege and the others to come up while she lifts her phone and moves aside to dial. Before she can pull up her cousin’s contact information, her phone rings. She answers, her voice impatient. “I don’t have time right now, Cassie. I’m in the middle of something.”

I edge a little closer, straining to hear. Her face goes ghostly white. Then she hits speaker.

“I’m not sure I caught that. Can you repeat it?”

“I said that your cousin is in big trouble,” the voice on the other end of the line says.

“What do you mean by that?”

Cassie’s voice comes through softer than I expect. “Ronnie… I just found out I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my God, congratulations! That’s amazing news,” Ronnie says.

Cassie’s tone hardens. “Thanks. But it changes everything.”

I move in another step, tension twisting in my gut. Ronnie looks confused. “What do you mean? How does being pregnant affect protecting my cousin?”

Cassie sighs, unsteady. “Look, I was happy to help you because I liked Sharon. But now things are different. Carrying a life makes you see what’s at stake. I can’t keep protecting someone accused of killing a child. Helping her makes me complicit. What if she’s not innocent?”

My fists clench, fury flaring hotter than before. But I stay silent.

Ronnie’s face goes pale with shock. Cassie’s words hang heavy between us.

“After everything I’ve done for you in the past. I can’t believe you’d turn on us,” Ronnie says in disbelief.

Cassie snaps back, “Maybe I just don’t believe her like you do.”

Ronnie’s breath hitches as she presses the phone tighter. “Don’t you dare say that. You’ve known her as long as I have. You said we were doing the right thing by protecting her until we could prove her innocent.”

Cassie’s reply is cold and final. “I changed my mind. This could come back on me. I’m not harboring a child killer.”

Ronnie glances at me. I can see the devastation written across her face. Her voice cracks, “You’ve been my friend since grade school. You promised you’d always stand by me. You know Sharon, you know she’d never do what they’re accusing her of!”

Cassie’s next words shock us all. “I’ve already called the tip line. They know where to find her. It’s too late to save her, let the police do their job. If she’s innocent, then she’s got nothing to worry about.”

The line goes dead. Ronnie’s knees buckle and I step forward to catch her with one arm.

She shoves me away, regaining her balance. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to give you the information you need to save my cousin. You say you love her, prove it. You’re her last hope.”

“I won’t let her down,” I say, determined to make that statement true.

She texts me the apartment address and the door code.

“You go to the back of the building and look for the sign that says laundry. The room is all the way in the back at the end of a hallway. She should be there, she texted earlier to say she’d arrived in Hartford.

I was going to check on her later today.

I told her not to go anywhere in the meantime. ”

“Got it,” I nod, already moving.

“Go now,” Ronnie urges.

We don’t waste a second. The address isn’t far from Ronnie’s house and we’re there in ten minutes.

I only hope we get there before the cops start sniffing around.

That’s if Cassie really called the tip line—she might have been bluffing—though considering the reward for information, I doubt it.

I skid my bike to a stop behind the laundry room, tires crunching on cracked asphalt.

My club brothers fan out behind me, engines idling low to avoid attention.

The sun glints off chrome as the heat bears down.

I yank off my helmet, hook it over the handlebars, and dismount. Every second matters. Cassie’s betrayal means the cops could be on their way.

“Stay here,” I bark over my shoulder. “Watch for uniforms. I’ll fetch Sharon.”

Rigs growls, “Hurry up. You’re out of time, brother.”

I sprint to the door, punch in the code, and shove it open. It creaks like it’s been waiting years for this moment. The scent of detergent lingers in the air. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead. Washers and dryers line both walls.

My boots hit the linoleum like gunfire. My heart’s pounding. I’ve never needed to move faster.

At the back of the corridor, I spot the door that is slightly ajar. I kick it wide and storm inside.

Sharon is standing there, pale and trembling. Relief and fury collide in my chest. Relief that I found her before the cops, but fury at myself for doubting her for a second.

I step forward, my voice low and strained. “Look, I’m sorry about how I reacted. You didn’t deserve that. But right now, we’ve gotta get the hell outta here.”

Her wide eyes lock onto mine, and for a single heartbeat, it’s just us. There are no cops, no brothers waiting outside. Just her and me, standing face to face. And one last chance to make this right.

“Ronnie called and told me to be ready to move because I’m not safe here anymore.”

“Cassie called the fucking tip line,” I snap, raw urgency in my voice. “She gave up your location.”

Her face drains of color. “She what?” The words crack with emotion.

I swallow hard, forcing calm into my tone. “They know where to look. We’ve got minutes, maybe less, before the authorities show up. You have to come with me.”

She nods, looking shellshocked. “Yeah, I get that. Thanks for coming.”

I step forward, still keyed up. “You got everything you need?”

“I don’t have any luggage.”

I pull her towards the door. We move fast. Out of the hallway, into the summer heat. I stop for a moment and listen, but there’s no sound of sirens. Just a dog barking somewhere.

“Go,” I hiss.

She darts ahead and I’m right behind her. My brothers are still fanned out around us, engines idling low. Their shouts remind me how imperative it is to get the fuck out of here immediately.

“Move your ass,” Rigs snarls.

Siege follows with, “Follow me. Zen mapped out an escape route for us just in case there’s roadblocks.”

As we bolt across the cracked asphalt to my bike, I scoop her up in one smooth motion and hold her tight to my side as I run full speed. Setting her down I jump on and wait for her to get in position behind me.

I fire up the engine and shift into gear. “Hold on, darlin’,” I growl over the roar. She tightens her arms around me, and we peel away from the pavement.

Once we’re back on the interstate, I feel a small measure of safety.

If we’re lucky, we’ll clear the area before they set up roadblocks.

I take back roads and ride like the devil’s breathing down my neck, my club brothers running tight behind me.

We nearly run outta gas before stopping to top off our tanks—and we’re gone before anyone notices.

My panic only fades once we’re back in Las Salinas.

Instead of going home, I head straight for the clubhouse.

Ain’t no safer place on this earth for her than surrounded by my brothers.