Disarray the hallowed cr.., p.10
Disarray: The Hallowed Crows MC 4, page 10
“I love you too,” is all I respond, and when we pull apart, his face seems lighter, and the tension is his shoulders seems to have relaxed out, but mine is only just beginning.
A phone rings and Angel leads us both over to the sofa, the coffee table covered in scattered pieces of paper, as he picks up the burner there and answers it. I can only hear his side of the conversation so I move my focus to the pages in front of me. I see criminal records for all the guys, surveillance photos from the station of us all walking out, and background checks on all the officers that work there. There is even some stuff on the agent who interviewed me although a lot of it is blacked out. I shouldn’t be surprised that Angel has been working on all this, but I am. I know he said there is a lot of stuff I don’t know about him, we spent two years apart, there is no way I could know who he became in that time, but seeing it in front of me feels different.
It’s obvious he is no longer the boy who promised to be my best friend forever. Instead he is now a man fighting to protect me and the ones I love, the ones I know he loves. He might be Ghost here to these men, but he will still always be a Crow first.
The back of my eyes sting with fatigue as I listen to the dronings of one of my contacts at the station, updating me about what happened throughout the night. The rest of the club has been let out in dribs and drabs over the last few hours, protocol be damned, especially when there is a chunk of green involved. Yet the FBI have hooked their claws into Aiden as deep as they can.
Being President has its downfalls, especially when he is so newly appointed and with the death of Connor still so fresh. They will see the changeover of power as a weakness they think they can exploit. They probably even think they can scare him into talking, fool him into giving something up in return for something else. What they don’t know is, the most dangerous thing about Aiden, is underestimating him. Just like the Mayor, he is willing to do anything for Rebecca, and that includes going to jail for something he didn’t do.
It’s why I admire him so much, not that I would ever tell him that, but he has always cared for her in his own way. A way that might have been lost and sullied a few times along the way, but in the end, I know he would die to protect her, just like I would. A fact that has been tested too closely on both of us as I feel the sting of the wound still so fresh in my neck. It hurts when I talk, hurts when I cough, hurts when I swallow, but none of that pain compares to being chained down and forced to watch Rebecca suffer under the Mayor’s hand. Hell, I’d rather fucking lick my President’s cock once more than have to go through again.
The officer keeps on talking about mindless stuff that isn’t relevant right now, so I cut him off to ask, “What about, Graves?” Rebecca’s eyes snap in my direction at his name, and I try to swallow down the pain it evokes within me.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I was up all night. Yeah, I was mostly working and trying to get to the bottom of this mountain of shit we have found ourselves under, but mostly it was to let myself think. I’ve already been through so much, lost so much, and come close to losing my life. Am I really going to let myself lose my best friend as well? Right now she is the only good thing I have in my life, and I refuse to ruin it just because her feelings don’t mirror my own. That’s childish, selfish, and downright stupid. So I have decided to coat my heart in steel, and do what needs to be done in order to save her. I can’t get over her if I lose her, so instead I will fight until she is truly free of him.
“Still being questioned, they’ve been at him nearly all night. He hasn’t slept, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t even eaten.” The officer actually sounds like he feels sorry for him, but his words only make me rage.
“Get some fucking food in there and tell him it won’t be long now,” I snap, locking eyes with Becca as she sinks her teeth into her trembling bottom lip. The sight of her makes my chest ache and I have to turn away before I add in a gritted whisper, “And tell him if he doesn’t get his ass home to his girl today, I will kill him myself.”
I end the call and walk back towards the table, tossing the phone on top of it, before I sit down with a tired exhale. “The prospects have gone home, but the rest of the club excluding Aiden are on the floor below us. Probably sleeping, or more likely drinking, as they wait for us to update them.”
Becca closes her eyes tight, as if trying to keep the tears at bay as she sighs, “They’re all out?” I nod even though she can’t see me, and when she opens her eyes I see relief burning in her stare. I know she feels guilty and like all of this is her fault, she can’t seem to accept the fact that this is all because Carter Fitzgerald is a sick piece of shit.
“I’m working on Aiden right now as we speak, but they have a hard-on for him given he’s the President.” Her eyes open and find mine, and she is nodding, knowing from experience with her father how true this is. The police always used to stop Connor for irrelevant bullshit trying to catch him out with something, and I’m sure it will be the same for Aiden when he gets out.
“I need to see them now,” she demands, and I smirk at her tone, her true persona slowly coming back to her after so long in his cage. Sometimes she forgets the power she wields and the effect it has over the club, but when she remembers I can’t help but feel nothing but pride.
“Then let’s go.” I smile and hold my hand out for her to lead the way. If she is going to be Queen she needs to own it, and I for one can’t wait to see her do just that.
She storms from the apartment with her head held high, flipping off Rhory and Nic as they smirk at her again, and then jams her finger into the button to call the elevator. I nod my head at the guys who track us with their eyes, and I know they are intrigued by our relationship. It’s not like in the time I have known them that I have ever brought a woman around. Especially not one I am willing to give my life for. Plus, they are trained to pick up on these kinds of things, just like I am.
We enter the elevator and I scan my universal key card, press the number for the floor below us, and then we travel down in silence. When I lead us off the elevator, she follows me to the largest apartment at the end, and I use my key card to enter. I'm surprised to find all of the guys already waiting around the kitchen island. They all look up as we enter, nodding and smiling at me, until I step aside and reveal Rebecca.
When I turn to close the door, I watch her track each of them individually, her stare traveling over Butler, Irish and Razor first, before moving onto Blaze, Sinner, and Ranger. The six of them look tired, but relieved to be out as they give her a quick once over, and I’m sure wonder where the other three are.
Butler is the first to step forward, which given he was so close to Connor and has known Rebecca most of her life, isn’t surprising. “You okay, Bex?” he asks, and I see fresh tears gather in her eyes as she nods. “Thought I told you crying over boys was a waste of time,” he adds with a tease. With that she is storming towards him and throwing her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest.
Surprise flashes across his face before he smiles softly, curls his arms around her back and pats her head. “Ssh, it’s okay, we’re all okay,” he reassures her softly. Pain rushes up inside of me at the fact Connor is no longer here to console her, that this club is the only thing she has left of him. He will never get to see the woman she will become in spite of everything that has happened to her.
When she pulls back she smiles softly at him, and then much to everyone's surprise, moves across the rest of them to give them all a hug too. They all accept it gruffly, pretending it doesn’t turn their stone hearts to mush to have this girl’s appreciation, before she comes back around the island to stand at my side.
“I’m sorry,” she begins, her voice holding no sign of nerves as she addresses them all. “I wish that none of your were dragged into this situation with Carter, but I promise you I will do everything I can to keep you out of it.”
“We’re not staying out of it,” Irish interrupts. “This isn’t just about you, Bex, it’s about our club, about Connor, about fucking respect. The Mayor crossed a line taking you and we won’t rest until we have buried him like we did Hustler.” Rebecca seems taken aback by his support until the mention of Mitch changes her completely.
“We need to talk about Mitch,” she almost whispers, and all of them focus on her as she takes a deep breath. “Mitch was my father’s son,” she announces, just ripping off the band aid, and I see all of them frown at her words.
“How is that even possible?” Razor asks, and Rebecca shrugs.
“I don’t really have all the information right now, I just know that we don’t have the same mom, and the reason he came to the club in the first place was to be close to our dad.” I can tell those words are hard for her to say, and it makes me fucking hate him even more than I already did when I found out he tried to hurt her. “What I do know is he wasn’t the mole, and while yes he tried to hurt me, Ezra killing him for betraying the club was a mistake, one I take full responsibility for.”
I can hear the shake in her voice now, as much as she tries to hide it, and I don’t feel any regret at moving in closer to her and stepping in to say, “Regardless, Hustler tried to kill her for reasons we aren’t sure of yet, so he might not have died the traitor we thought, but he was still a traitor, and he died a coward.”
Silence descends between everyone as my words settle over us all, and it’s Irish that clears his throat first to ask, “What happens now?”
I look between them all as I take Becca’s hand in mine and reply, “Now. We go to war.”
I’m burning up, my body on fire, and as I come to I find the reasoning behind it. Killian is curled around my chest, head buried in my neck, with one of his legs sprawled across mine as he sleeps soundly beside me. I should have known. I’ve woken up many mornings like this, with his body heat consuming me until I can barely breath, but with everything going on right now, I wouldn’t change it for the world. At least we are together. It’s that thought that has my eyes snapping around the rest of the room in the morning sunlight in search of Rebecca.
“She went to see Angel,” Killian grumbles into my neck, and when I look down I find his eyes closed, looking as if he is still perfectly asleep.
“How do you know?” I snap, harder than intended, but the panic of what just happened to us all, what is still happening to us all, curls deep in my gut
I keep my eyes fixed on him as he shrugs. “I just do, she left a few hours ago.” When I keep staring at him he sighs, flicking open his eyes looking up at me, as he blindly reaches for a burner phone sitting on the bedside table and tosses it onto my chest. “They should be back soon,” he gruffs, closing his eyes once more, as I open the message thread that is clearly from Angel updating us.
A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, as I toss the phone back to the table and move my focus back to Killian. I don’t know how he does it, always staying so in control and on top of everything. Even when Rebecca was gone and the three of us denied we were falling apart and missing her presence, and basking in what we thought was her betrayal, Killian remained on top of everything. Even with things spiraling out of our reach, he never lets the world see him panic or sweat.
I wish I could be more like him. More numb to the world we live in and the crimes we commit, especially now I know Rebecca is still in danger, that Carter is still out there waiting for her. I want to swear that I will keep her safe, that he won’t get to her again, but how can I promise something that I have already failed at too many times before?
Then there is Hustler. My brother, her brother, now fucking dead by my own hand, and all I can see is his blood and his patch as he dropped to the floor. I wasn't prepared for his death, but at that moment all I could see was Rebecca in that cage, the marks from the Mayor still staining her face, and when he came after her, I didn’t hesitate, I just fired. The sound of my shots and the word mole echoing around us. My hand reaches up and traces the bullet holes in my chest that are a reminder of the Mayor’s sins. Sins that Hustler never even committed, and yet, I killed him for them anyway.
“Do you think she will ever forgive me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, and I feel Killian tense beside me.
My deadly enforcer leans up on his broad arms to look at me, and as if he has a direct line into my thoughts, he snaps, “There is nothing to forgive.”
I sigh as I trail my hand up his arm to try and soothe some of the tension there, but really it’s the tension in my own that hurts me. “I killed her brother, Kill, we aren’t just going to get past that, he was Connor’s son.” The last three words taste bitter on my tongue as I say them out loud, and I feel bile claw up my chest at the thought of what I did.
“No, you saved her life,” he demands adamantly. “Would you have forgiven yourself if he had killed her?”
My heart aches at just the thought of losing her again and I can barely choke out my response. “No, never.”
Killian leans up and over me, covering my body with his as he traps me in place. “Then don’t waste one more second feeling guilty. You did what you had to do to protect her, what any one of us would do, and just because Mitch wasn’t the mole doesn’t mean he wasn’t guilty.”
His stare tears me apart, just like it does every time I remember he is mine, and I try to do what he says and push the guilt away, but it’s harder than I thought. “My hands are covered in his blood.” I see the understanding in his eyes at my statement. The fact that I didn’t just kill a threat, but someone I thought we could trust, an MC brother, a friend.
“And mine are covered in everyone else’s,” he growls, pressing against me even more until our eyes are locked. “Does that mean you don’t want them on you?” He asks, trailing his fingers up the side of my torso until he can wrap them around the base of my throat.
I know what he’s doing, because it’s what I do to him every time he comes home from a night as the club enforcer. When his eyes are almost black and soulless, and the stench of copper clings to his skin like a cologne. I give him an outlet, one he can fall into and explore his depravity in any way he wants until he comes back to me completely. They’re the nights with him I love the most, not the quiet love making, but the rough fucking that ends with me bleeding for him. Maybe I need that now, the same way he always does. Maybe I can erase the stain of Hustler, and replace it with Killer.
I lean up into his hold against my throat as I purr against his lips, “No, we all know how much you like the color red, baby.”
He smirks against my skin, his eyes now dancing with delight as he warns, “You better shut this fucking mouth before I fill it with my cock.” His words of warning have me hardening beneath him, and I know the second he feels my arousal because he smirks, smug as a fucking prick as he erases the distance between us and shoves his tongue into my mouth.
Groaning at the intrusion, my body comes alive, as my tongue starts a battle with his that’s dirty and messy, and completely distracting as he disarms me with his mouth. When he starts to trail his lips along my jaw I am almost panting, grinding my hips up to meet his as I feel his own hard length against mine.
“Killian,” I grit through my teeth, desperation pouring from that one word. I feel his smile against my neck as his fingers squeeze my throat tightly in silent demand. Fuck, I am so fucking hard for him.
Pre-cum leaks from my dick as he starts to trail his tongue down my body, and if I wasn’t so turned on I would probably laugh at the threat to shut me up with his cock in my mouth, as his own heads for mine. His fingers trail down to my hard cock, then he grips the base and slides his hand up and over to the head where he knows I like to be tugged hard.
His deadly fingers are beautiful and powerful as he strokes me with firm, efficient movements until I am breathing hard. My eyes are transfixed on the way his teeth bite into his lower lip, as he watches his hand stroke my dick. The way that to everyone else he is a lethal killer, but to me he is the man I love. His touch on my skin makes my cock ache and my ass clench.
I’m so fucking aroused that my dick is pulsing with need, and if he keeps fucking teasing me I won’t even last a minute. Just as I have that thought, he leans down and licks a strip from my balls to my tip, before swirling his tongue around my crown and then sucking me deep into his mouth with a deep guttural groan. I fucking gasp out as his warm wet mouth engulfs me whole, and his fingers reach down and press against my taint.
Then he pulls off for a second, his talented tongue teasing my crown and slit. “I’m so fucking hard for you, E, I need you so fucking much.” His head dips down again and starts sucking the tip of my cock once more, as his fingers brush against my rim in a way that has me biting back a curse.
I thrust into his mouth as one of his fingers penetrates my hole, and I love how fucking rough he is with me, not caring if hurts, but the second my cock hits the back of his throat, I cease to exist as one person. Any control or lack of control I was worrying about disappears as his teeth scrape against the underside of my length. My hands reach down and cup his head as I allow myself a few seconds to roughly fuck his mouth until he is choking and groaning against my dick.
He takes my cock like it was made just for him, as he bobs down until his nose teases against my groin, before pulling back and teasing my crown. Over and over he moves, alternating between licking and sucking, until my cock is covered in his spit and he adds another finger to my hole stretching me out for him.
When I can barely breathe through his sensual attack, he lets my cock fall from his mouth and moves back up over me to line his cock up against my ass. “I want you coming with my cock inside you,” he grunts, dropping his lips to mine as he strokes our cocks together in our pre-cum.
When we are both panting, and slipping and sliding against one another, he pulls back, moving to his knees and pushes his tip against my hole. I feel the burn of his length and girth instantly, and before I can even prepare myself, he shoves his dick deep inside of me and we both groan out loud.
