Page 23 of Crow
“No, Jade, what’s not fair is that your dicking around is fucking me over.” I scraped my hand through my hair, thinking about how this fuckinggirlhad gotten under my skin again. I couldn’t afford distractions, I didn’t want to get messed around. Then it dawned on me: the only way to get her out of my goddamn head for good was for her to leave and not contact me anymore. She had to hate me. I suddenly felt very calm.
“So how much do I owe you?” My voice was an even monotone.
“What?” Jade looked confused. I repeated myself, slower, staring at a point on the wall just above her head. Her frown deepened. “Crow, you’re not making any sense.”
“You’re a hooker, right?” I sneered. I felt calm for the first time since this conversation started, like I was in control again. “You exchange sex in return for money and coke. And I’m all out of drugs, so how much do I owe you?”
Understanding dawned on her face quickly followed by hurt. A split second later, any vulnerability had been pushed aside, and she was smiling mockingly at me.
“You’re all the same,” she said quietly, standing up. “Fine. Fuck you, Crow.”
This time when she headed for the door, I didn’t stop her.
***
Arizona’s dry heat melted into the rainy season. The sky was gray, and the slick roads invited crashes. I had only been driving out for groceries and church meetings, which wasn’t unusual. What was new was the constant urge to check over my shoulder, wondering if Jade was going to appear out of nowhere like she usually did. Every time I caught myself doing a double take when I saw someone with dark hair at the liquor store, or driving my bike slower like I was waiting for her to flag me down, my mood soured. I was sick of myself acting like a fucking pussy and losing sight of what was important.
We were so close to being rid of the Freeways forever. I had kept my promise to Tank and no longer went into their territory by myself. Instead, pairs and trios of Rebels took shifts, although I made sure I was out at least every other night. I had invested too much time and effort into this to not be there if shit went south.
Tank frowned whenever he saw me preparing to ride out, Wrench was constantly giving me worried looks, and Ripper kept trying to talk to me. I knew they had noticed how often I was going out, but I shrugged them off. I had started this, and I wanted to see it through. It was my responsibility. Besides, it distracted me from thoughts of Jade and Jeannie, even if a treacherous part of me whispered that the reason I wanted to stake out the house so often was for a chance to see Jade again.
I had begun to avoid the living room. Both the couch and the picture on the coffee table stared at me in accusation every time I had to walk through it, reminding me of how angry I’d been, how scared Jade had looked. I huffed, rolling over in bed and cursing to myself. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t eject Jade from my mind completely. Late at night, after I read the plans for the raid on the Freeways until my eyes ached, she crept back into my head, thoughts of her making themselves at home under my skin.
Which was fucking messed up. I was nothing more than a plaything to her, someone to pick up and fuck with when she was bored… until she decided to go back to her boyfriend. And speaking of fucking… Jade’s mouth had been amazing. So hot and wet and warm, and when she looked up at me with those huge green eyes… I had wanted to devour her. Still kinda did.
Which was part of the fucking problem. I knew she had a boyfriend, and I was never the kind of guy who went after another man’s girl, so why was I still thinking about this? Every time I thought I had myself focused on guns and vengeance against the Freeways, I remembered that they sold drugs. The same drugs Jade took. And then I was thinking about Jade again in a fucking awful cycle.
And the worst part was Jeannie’s photo had been watching the whole time. It felt like cheating, like I was forgetting about her.
Fuck that. The worst part was that I couldn’t even feel guilty in peace because when I thought about Jeannie, I thought about Jade telling me that it was okay to move on.
I rolled over again. Nothing was comfortable. Thoughts of Jade and Jeannie warred in my head, too confused for me to make any sense of them. It felt like any step toward a future with Jade was betraying my past with Jeannie, but not being around Jade was proving to be fucking difficult.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. The longer I laid in bed the less likely it felt that I was going to be able to sleep. I remembered that Jeannie never liked sleeping without resolving any arguments we’d had, even if it meant staying up for hours and talking ourselves into circles trying to solve the issue. But I didn’t think talking about it would solve this problem with Jade, even if she was here to talk to. I was never very good at coming up with solutions. I was just a sounding board for Jeannie as she worked out our problems. Since she died, I had just run away from any issues I encountered, but I didn’t know how to run away from this.
Right now I wanted to sleep, to have a couple of hours where I didn’t have to think about anything and could just rest, but it wasn’t looking like that would be possible. I was almost grateful when my phone rang, Ink’s name filling the tiny screen with the promise of something else to focus on.
“What do you want this time?” I asked.
“What I always want these days,” Ink said tensely. “For you to get your ass to the Tavern for an emergency church meeting. The Freeways hit again.”
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, rolling out of bed and reaching for my jeans.
“You said it, brother,” Ink agreed. “And hurry, Tank’s pissed.”
“I’m already out the door,” I said, hanging up and pulling my cuts on.
***
Ripper was standing outside of the Ironhead Tavern when I pulled up on my bike, arms crossed over his chest. I could already hear the yelling before I killed the engine, but I couldn’t understand what the fuck they were saying.
“How bad is it?” I asked, dismounting my bike.
“Bad,” Ripper said grimly, moving aside so that I could see that the window behind him was smashed.
“Motherfuckers,” I snarled. I stormed into the Tavern, Ripper close behind me. Inside, the Rebels were clustered around the bar. I pushed past them to find Tank and Evelyn with their arms around Jenny, the barmaid. Claymore loomed protectively over them. A brick was lying on the bar.
“What the fuck is going on?” I tried to ask, but everyone was too busy yelling over themselves to answer.
