Page 74 of Crow's Haven
I smile at her compliment. For the first time in months I feel as if I can finally breathe again.
After taking pictures of the boxes in the morgue drawer, they bring in a forensic team to start processing the scene.
Chapter 24
Crow
The clubhouse is quieter than usual tonight. But I guess everyone’s got their own shit on their minds. My boys are out cold upstairs in my old room, all tuckered out from running wild with Siege’s kids all afternoon. They didn’t even make it through story time—just collapsed in a heap. Oblivious. Untouched by the weight pressing down on me like a damn anvil. I envy them for that.
I’m downstairs now, sitting at the bar with a cold beer sweating in my hand. Tank’s behind the counter, playing bartender, though it’s mostly just an excuse for him to be near the fridge. He’s already opened his third sandwich since we sat down. Dutch is perched on a stool, his laugh loud enough to rattle the bottles on the shelves behind him. Across the table, Vapor and Haze are playing cards. Venom leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, tapping his foot while texting his old lady.
It feels normal on the surface—guys talking shit, drinking, just hanging out. But there’s a current under it, electric and sharp. Everyone knows we’re waiting for word on what’s happening.
Smoke said tonight was the night. The raid.
And my old lady’s right in the middle of it.
I take a pull from the beer, the bitterness grounding me.
Tank wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and jabs the sandwich towards me. “Your kids ever stop? Thought I was gonna need to call in backup just to keep ‘em from climbing the damn roof with Siege’s twins.”
I huff out something between a laugh and a sigh. “They’re a handful. You’re lucky you don’t have twins.”
Vapor grins, as he spreads out a royal flush. “Yeah, me and my bro just about drove our folks mad at times.”
Haze laughs at that, “You mean you did. I was the good one.”
“Believe what you want, but I remember that time you decided to set up a tattoo parlor in the garage during summer break and Mrs. Mancini stormed in, just as you were about to do Joey’s knuckles,” Vapor shoots back, rolling his eyes.
“I was twelve. It was a fucking sharpie,” Haze counters.
“Yeah, but it took Pops ten minutes just to calm her down. You were on yardwork for a month after that.”
The room bursts into laughter, loud and sharp. For a moment, it feels good. Almost normal. I let myself smirk, though the knot in my chest doesn’t ease.
Venom’s low voice cuts through the noise. “They’re good kids, Crow. Strong. Take after you, it can’t have been easy raisin’ them on your own.”
I nod once, the words hitting deeper than I expect. “Thanks.”
Tank raises his beer in mock salute. “Just hope they don’t inherit your grumpy ass expression. Scare off all the girls.”
Dutch snorts. “Nah, they’ll have no problem. Crow’s boys’ll be heartbreakers. Probably already are.”
“Not if I can help it,” I mutter, half to myself.
These guys—they’re my brothers. My family. They keep me steady when the ground feels like it’s crumbling under my feet.
But even as I laugh, even as I tip back another drink, I can’t shake the storm in my gut.
She’s out there. With feds. In a hospital crawling with danger.
And I can’t do a damn thing but sit here.
I shift on the stool, restless. My fingers tap against the bottle, a rhythm that matches the pounding of my heart.
Dutch notices. He always does. “You’re wound tight as barbed wire, brother.”
“No shit,” I growl.
