Page 28 of Queen Crow
One of my hands drifts back down to my clit, circling and rubbing, and his eyes follow every movement as though I’m giving him the show of his life.
When I come, my pussy gripping his cock and milking it, he finally snaps, words tumbling out of him like he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. “I gotta fucking move. Queenie, lemme fuck you. I need you. I need to fucking move.”
I nod, gasping at how quickly he’s grasping my hips and holding me still to pump his hips into me, the wet sounds of him fucking me obscene as they fill the room.
I can feel another orgasm building, but when I try to touch my clit again, he tugs my hand away, surging up and over until he’s back on top and pounding into me again. He tugs my hips until he’s grinding into my clit himself, and when I shatter this time, he comes with me, roaring out his release.
Chapter Nine
I spend the next week at the Crow’s fortress dealing with matters I’ve barely gotten a handle on.
I have no choice but to spend my days over there, sifting through information with Luca while Ash or Harley snarl insults at him the entire time. It’s informative and draining all at once, picking up the reins with no sort of information handover, and I feel like I’m fumbling around in the dark.
It also becomes clear to me that Atticus’ influence stretches much further than I ever would have thought possible.
There are old gentleman’s clubs in every major city in the world that he either has surveillance on or informants in. I suddenly have access to every president, prime minister, and congressman in the world. There is no political circle, both law-abiding or outlaw, that I don’t have access to.
It’s both amazing and very confusing.
All of this power and yet the Crawfords are still breathing. I understand what it means to be old money, Senior had access to many things that made him almost impossible to touch without far-reaching consequences, but with access to all of these people, why hasn’t Atticus just taken them out?
When I question Luca about it, his eyes flick to Ash and then he shrugs, not at all eager to discuss it around the scowling and vicious man in my life who also doesn’t love his boss. Okay, he absolutely freaking hates him, so I don’t bring it up again, even though it’s on my mind the entire week.
I learn a lot about the Jackal’s nuclear bomb.
I also learn that it ismissing.
“Jesus fucking Christ, of course it is! At what point was Atticus planning on bringing this to the table at the Twelve meetings? Or maybe just picking up the phone and telling me that there’s a literal bomb missing that could take out the entire city?” I snap, and Ash is too busy in the corner on the phone to Morrison to add any snarky commentary.
Luca hesitates for a second before saying, “State. It’s big enough to wipe out the state of California and do some damage to the surrounding states.”
My stomach turns but I mask how sick it’s making me by letting out my anger instead. “Right. So when Atticus said we were allies, he didn’t mean that he’d let us know about that sort of potential threat? This is kind of important, Luca. I would have literally cleared everything off of my planner to help find it and get it defused.”
He glances at Ash again and my temper just snaps. “He’s not going to disappear if only you keep looking at him! He’s also here because there are massive trust issues between the Wolf’s camp and this one. That’s on you and Atticus, not us.”
Luca shrugs and hands over another file that’s overflowing with papers. “The two of you are breathing. Every last thing that the Crow did, all of it was for you and your brother. Sure, he was always going to put you first if shit really went south, but he got Ash out of the shit a million times as well. No matter the cost, no matter what he had to do, he kept you both safe. At some point, you two have to give him credit for it… and instead you’re with O’Cronin and your brother is a snarling fucking dickhead about everything, even after he got his own member of the Twelve to keep.”
Big mistake.
Big mistake bringing up my decisions and an even worse one to even gently mention Lips in a tirade. If looks could kill, Luca would be dead the second Ash’s eyes swing his way, and I discreetly start looking for my phone under the papers to call Lips for a cleanup.
“Avery didn’t ask for his help and she can make her own fucking decisions about what she does. If he thought building this pompous empire meant he earned her, then he’s no better than her other buyers. Avery decides who the fuck she’s with. Not you, not me, and not AtticusfuckingCrawford.”
It’s not until hours later, on the trip back to the ranch in his Ferrari, that he snarks at me, “Well, I’m not fucking happy about you ending up with O’Cronin but if it has to be someone, then at least you didn’t pick some coiffed, wet fucking blanket who can’t even shoot straight.”
And that is as much of an approval as Alexander Asher William Beaumont will ever give a man.
* * *
Whatever is going on at the docks keeps Aodhan ridiculously busy, and on the night of the final Game, I ride over to the forest at the edge of Mounts Bay with Harley in the Rolls Royce, ignoring his grumpy mumbling at the poor qualities of the luxury classic car. It’s all just the typical boy bullshit I’m used to from him, he’d complained at me for months after he found out I’d bought it, but there’s something very soothing about it as background noise as I work on my phone.
After all of these years of living in such close quarters, I didn’t realize how devastating their temporary absence would be to me, especially his. There was never any doubt that losing Ash would be like losing a limb, but Harley had wound his way around my heart from the moment I saw him through that two-way mirror.
The others had arrived hours ago for set up and instead of joining them, I’d spent the afternoon at the hospital with Harley. He’s a much less surly friend to have around at the bedside, sitting there quietly as I scour over the notes for any little inconsistencies or signs of foul play.
There’s still nothing though, no little sign that he’s going to come out of this fucking coma, no signs of him getting better or worse, and I start to believe that he’s going to be stuck in this limbo forever, never really coming back to me, but existing instead as a shell of himself.
It’s a fate worse than hell in my opinion.