Page 6 of Crow’s Haven (Savage Legion MC #15)

Crow

T he boys are in the backyard. Chase is sling-shotting acorns at an old wheelbarrow.

Since he’s still wearing his cast and can’t use his slingshot, Scout’s yelling something about being the king of chrome while making motorcycle noises with his mouth.

Both of them are barefoot and shirtless even though the grass is still damp with morning dew.

I shake my head, more amused than irritated that they’re goofing off instead of getting dressed, like I asked. My phone buzzes on the windowsill. Zen’s name is showing up, so I grab it because I’ve been waiting for an update on the woman I asked him to look into.

I step out onto the back porch and bring the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”

“Morning, brother,” Zen says smoothly. “Got that info you asked for.”

I glance at the twins. Scout is now yelling, “Throttle, man the fort!” Chase climbs into the porch swing and begins swinging while holding onto each side.

I can tell he’s working on getting a cast like his brother without knowing it, so I tell Zen to hold on for a second, go out and pull him down from the swing.

“That’s dangerous. You could hurt yourself.” Jerking my chin towards the door, I remind them. “You two are supposed to be getting dressed. I laid your clothes out. If you’re quick about it, I’ll buy a treat at the grocery store.”

Of course they start cheering because they’re my boisterous boys. I turn slightly, shielding the phone from their chaos as they run inside the house.

“What’d you find?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

I can hear him typing on his keyboard as he answers, “Sharon Jackson came back squeaky clean. She’s got no criminal record.

No priors, no outstanding warrants. DMV file is a bit thin, like she doesn’t have speeding tickets, parking tickets or anything.

She graduated from high school. I don’t see any college, marital, or employment history.

Last known address was in Hartford, five years ago, but no current address listed. ”

I lean against the porch rail, chewing on that for a second or two. “That might be clean, but it leaves me with questions. Like how does she support herself?”

“That’s the billion-dollar question, brother,” Zen confirms. “I’m guessing she works cash-in-hand, or maybe she’s shacked up with some rich dude and doesn’t work.”

That gets a quiet grunt out of me. “So why did she get spooked by the police?”

Zen thinks it over for a minute before answering. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s a hooker and recognized him as one of her clients?”

I grunt again. “You read too much shit, brother. I saw the look on her face, she was scared, real scared.”

He reminds me, “You told me you thought she was on the run from a man.”

“Yeah, I remember. I’ve got that damn gut feeling she needs help, she’s just too spooked to ask.”

“If you feel that strongly about it, talk to Siege about getting some brothers together to canvas the area for her.”

“If she’s on the run that might make things worse,” I mutter, half to myself. “She looked scared, and it got under my skin.”

Zen must hear the worry in my voice because he encourages me to do something about it again. “Look, Crow. If you want, I’ll help you look.”

“Thanks for the offer, Zen. I’ll probably take this to Siege later today.”

I hang up and stand there, turning it over in my head.

Part of me is thinking if she wanted my help she would ask.

But another part believes what I told Zen, that she needs help but is afraid to ask.

After going back and forth a bit, I can’t let it go.

I’ve got to find her and at least offer to help.

I get my ass moving because today is grocery day and we’re out of almost everything.

The twins grumble the entire way to the truck because we’re not taking the sidecar.

“Why can’t we take the bike?” Scout whines, dragging his feet across the gravel. “The sidecar’s fixed. We need to use it.”

“Yeah,” Chase chimes in, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re being stubborn.”

I smother back a smile because that’s what I tell the boys when they refuse to listen and now, they’re telling it back to me when they think I’m not listening to them.

“I promised we could take it most of the time,” I correct, unlocking the truck with a beep. “That sidecar is not going to hold you two, and a week’s worth of groceries. You wanna leave all your treats at the store?”

They’re still muttering as I gun it onto the main road, keeping pace with traffic.

As we cruise past Patch’s office, a gas station, and the old feed store, my eyes flick to the mirrors.

I’m a paranoid bastard, always watching for trouble—a tail in the mirror, a new face, some asshole lurking around town, but now I can’t help but look out for that mysterious woman who helped my boy at Patch’s office.

Ever since she showed up in my life, something in my gut’s been twisting away, keeping me on edge.

I worry that whatever she’s running from is going to show up in our small town.

If it does, I’ll break bad on any son of a bitch who thinks he’s tough but only goes after women or kids.

I will mess a fucker up for beating on a woman, especially the one who was so kind and patient with my kid when he was in pain.

I pull into the Creekview Food Emporium and begin looking for a parking space.

That’s when I see it, a Subaru Outback. Tucked off to the side of the grocery store lot, in the shade of a big tree.

I don’t know if it’s the same one from the clinic, but I’m sure as hell gonna find out. I park a few spaces over and jump out of my truck, telling the boys, “Sit tight. Don’t start nothin’. I gotta talk to someone.”

They groan but before I can tell them to pipe down, the music ends, and they start fighting over who gets to pick the next song.

The Subaru is sitting still. The windows are fogged just a little on the inside. I make my way across the pavement to have a look.

Up close, I spot her through the glass. She’s curled awkwardly in the driver’s seat, one arm folded under her head, the other clutching a blanket that’s covering her body.

Her hair’s a mess, sticking to her cheek, and her eyes are shut tight.

If I’m being honest, she looks exhausted and homeless.

There is no movement when I approach. She’s alone and vulnerable.

I hesitate, then knock gently on the window.

Hopefully, it’s not loud enough to startle her.

Her eyes shoot open, and she jerks upright in the seat.

Her expression is disoriented and half-panicked.

Her eyes find mine, and I see an expression of recognition flash across her face. She clearly remembers me.

I raise my hands in a loose, open gesture. “I didn’t mean to spook ya.”

She stares at me for a brief second and then slowly rolls the window down a few inches.

“What do you want?” she asks hoarsely, like her throat is parched.

“Me and my boys are making our weekly grocery run and I noticed your car,” I reply, nodding towards the store. “I wanted to tell you thanks for helping my boy the other day.”

Her expression relaxes and she rolls her window down halfway so we can talk more easily. “It was a pleasure. How’s your son doing?”

I jerk my chin at my truck. “See for yourself. He’s right here.”

She smiles when she sees both of my boys hanging out the truck window, waving wildly. They’re making goofy faces and giggling. I scratch the back of my neck, hoping she doesn’t think we’re all batshit crazy.

I volunteer, “Wish I could say they ain’t always like that, but that’d be a lie.”

When she turns to look at me, her smile is genuine and larger. “I think they’re adorable.”

“We’re of like minds about that,” I say, leaning one hand lightly on the roof of her car. “I’m their dad, so my opinion might be a little biased, though.”

“He takes after his dad, brave and outgoing.”

I stand a little taller because she just complimented me.

“He wanted to thank you himself,” I say, glancing back at the truck. “Do you mind?”

Her eyes wander back over to the truck. They appear to be fighting over a candy wrapper until they accidentally rip it in two. Chase starts crying and Scout peels off one of his makeshift club patches and offers it to him. When they hug, I’m more than proud.

“They’re twins?” she asks, gazing up at me.

“Yeah,” I say, resting against the car. “Yeah, they were born five minutes apart. They’re rowdy and rambunctious, but they’re all mine.”

She chuckles faintly, and I like the sound. “My dad’s a twin. I look so much like my cousins that people used to think they were clones. Genetic déjà vu, we called it.”

I jerk my chin towards the blanket covering her body. “You sleeping out here?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah, but I’m fine,” she says too quickly. “Just needed a safe place for the night.”

“You wanna come and say hi?” I ask.

She hesitates, then opens the door and steps out, brushing her hair back with one hand, leaving the blanket behind.

The boys light up when she approaches. She gives them a small, hesitant wave to go with her stunning smile.

Scout immediately waves back with his free hand, elbowing Chase like he’s been proven right about something.

“Hey!” Scout says. “You’re the lady from the doctor place! You were nice.”

“I try to always be nice, especially when someone is sick or injured,” she says gently, crouching to meet their eyes. “You must be Scout. And you must be his twin brother,” she says to Chase.

Chase grumbles, “I wanted to be born first, but Scout pushed me aside. It’s not fair.”

Sharon looks at Chase’s petulant face and says, “Maybe he was just looking out for you. So what’s your name? You look like an Algernon or a Humphrey.”

Chase giggles. “It’s Throttle, but that’s just my biker name. My real name’s Chase, but that’s too boring.”