Disarray the hallowed cr.., p.5
Disarray: The Hallowed Crows MC 4, page 5
I freeze, fear crawling over me as the dog bares its teeth, and then all of a sudden it’s charging at us and leaping on Angel. I close my eyes tight but when no grunt of pain comes, I peek out and notice the dog wiggling at his feet, accepting his firm strokes along its back.
Angel smiles up at me, the first genuine smile I have seen since before he was shot as he introduces me. “Becca, this is Stitch, the goodest boy in the entire world.”
“I thought that’s what the hooker nicknamed you, G?” The man asks, approaching us with a smile, until he can pull Angel in for a man hug as he adds, “Knew you wouldn’t stay away for long.”
When he pulls back, the man looks at me and holds out his hand. “Rebecca O’Sullivan, we didn’t exactly get a chance to be introduced the last time I saw you, friends call me Blade.”
My mind pushes back to the night of the rescue as memories of him rise to the surface, still a little foggy in my mind. “Yeah, I remember, the guy who nearly blew us up, right?”
A smile takes over his face at my recollection, “It was so fucking awesome right? But don’t fall in love with me and add me to your harem, I don’t roll like that.”
“Jesus fucking christ,” Angel mutters under his breath, as I stare at his friend dumbfounded before he steps in. “We need a place to crash, I was wondering if I can take the rest of the apartments on seventeen?”
The dog wanders back to his owner's side as Blade looks between the two of us before he nods. “La mia casa è la tua casa, Ghost,” he replies in what I think is Italian, but I can’t be sure.
“Come al solito la tua grazia è troppa,” Angel replies, much to my surprise, and Blade laughs.
“You’re the only man in the world to believe that, my friend.” He pets the dog on the head, and the two of them start retreating back towards the window as if they were watching something.
“I think four others would agree with me,” Angel calls out to his back, as he leads me towards the elevator.
Blade flips him off as he bids us a pleasant farewell. “Yeah, yeah, just fuck off out of my apartment, I’m busy.”
Angel directs the elevator back down to the seventeenth floor and when the doors open, more armed men await us. Again, all greeting him by the name Ghost as he leads me down the hall to the last apartment. One of the men hands him a black key card and he swipes it to allow us inside. He doesn’t say a word as he walks me through the huge apartment that has two bedrooms, both with an ensuite, a bathroom, and a massive open plan living and dining area, and a huge kitchen.
The whole thing is beautiful and furnished to perfection, but still I don’t understand why we are here. Angel is standing in the middle of the living room watching me take it all in when I turn to him and ask that question. “Why are we here?”
Angel laughs, it’s hoarse and low, without a trace of humor and does nothing but remind me of the bullet he took in the neck for me. “We are here because I don’t know how else to protect you, Becca.” He closes the distance between us and pulls my hands into his. “We’re here because I don’t know what else to do and because even though you think I’m a Crow, I’m not, not anymore. I’m this, this is the world I am a part of now, and it’s where I belong, and until I can bring them home to you, it’s where you belong too. It’s what your father would have wanted me to do.”
At the mention of my father, I can’t help but recoil. “My father would have wanted you to tell me about Mitch,” I whisper, that hurt and pain from before comes crawling back as I squeeze his hands in mine. “He would have wanted me to have all the answers and would have asked you why you waited until now to tell me the truth.”
The look of guilt in his eyes is too much and I try to walk away, but he doesn’t let me, just pulling me back until we are staring at one another. “When was I supposed to tell you, Becca? When you were crying over missing him, or falling apart because of everything the Mayor did to you? Do you not think I wanted to tell you? That it didn’t eat me up inside every minute of every day we spent together, that I knew and you didn’t, but there was never a right time for it, and I just thought when we got past all this that I could tell you and the two of you could work it out.”
His words turn over in my mind as I repeat them and come to only one question. “Mitch knew who he was, that he was Connor’s son?”
He nods slowly. “Your father said it’s why he joined the club, to get to know him, to follow in his footsteps or some shit,” he shrugs, clearly not knowing the full details of it all. “All I know is that they had agreed to wait until you were eighteen to tell you, I guess with you being gone and everything that followed that they never found the right time.”
I guess I can’t blame him for that, he wasn't even around when I got home after Elle rescued me, and it’s not hard to guess why my dad didn’t fess up before he was killed. I was like a shell when I came back, I barely left my room, barely talked to anyone. He must have been waiting for me to get better, or just show any sign of emotion, before he revealed the truth. Yet that still doesn’t explain why Mitch was trying to hurt me, I just don’t understand any of it.
“Do the others know?” I ask him, not able to say their names right now, not to him, and Angel shakes his head. So that means Ezra didn’t know who he was when he killed him. He probably won’t take it well when he finds out, even if he did it to protect me, I know E well enough to know that.
“You should get some rest until we get some more information.” He doesn't wait for me to respond, just leads me to one of the bedrooms, and I follow behind him silently, this new found separation between us unbearable.
He stands quietly holding the door open and I slip past him and take a seat on the bed, hating that this is how we are with one another, and before he can turn to leave, I can’t help but apologize. “I’m sorry, Angel.” He pauses where he stands but doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry that I need you so much, that you are hurting.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me, Becca,” he interrupts, but I interrupt him right back. “Yes, I do, you told me you needed time and here you are standing by my side anyway. I’m sorry that I took your friendship for granted, that I was so blinded by them that I didn’t notice I was hurting you.” I take a deep breath as the words pour from my heart and before I can try and talk myself out of it I add, “And I’m sorry that when we were in the cage that I wished Carter would let you take his place, god you have no idea how sorry I am for that.”
I don’t have to say Aiden’s name for him to know what I am talking about, he understands, and time stands still between us as my words fall into the hole that now separates us. I feel sick and disgusted for ever thinking it in the first place, and even worse for admitting it out loud to him now.
“I’m sorry he didn’t let me,” he whispers in defeat, and if my heart wasn’t already empty shards in my chest, it might break even more for everything Carter put him through. “I know how much you love them,” is all he adds, as if that makes my wishes okay.
“But I love you too, Angel, you're my friend and I never should have wished that. You’re always there for me, always looking out for me, and I know you’re not ready yet, but when you are, I'll be here.” I need him to know how much he means to me, how much I care about him, and that just because I can’t love him the way he loves me, doesn’t mean I don’t still love him.
Angel just smiles softly, nodding his head once before he turns and leaves without looking back. When the door closes behind him, I let the tears I have been holding back fall. And with no one here to hold me together, I have no choice but to curl up on the bed and completely fall apart.
I’m usually comfortable in silence. I have no choice to be when I spend so much time with Killian and Aiden, but this silence is different. In fact, it’s not silent at all. I can hear plenty of people yelling out from their cells for their phone calls and lawyers, can hear officers talking shit about their wives and their pay, hell I can even hear Irish singing somewhere. The silence is in my mind. It’s the sole sound of that bullet leaving its chamber before it slammed into the center of Hustler’s head. It’s the sound of the birds whistling in the middle of the woods as we buried his body, and it’s the sound of the metal door slamming me inside of a cage a lot better than the one we found Rebecca in.
Rebecca, god, all I can think about is Rebecca. Is she okay? Are they hurting her? Can she handle this fucking lifestyle we let her drag herself into? Hell, we are no better than Carter at this point. All the shit we have done, all the crimes we have committed, all the people we have killed, that I have killed. I killed him. I killed my brother, I killed him to protect her, and what’s worse than the guilt festering inside of me, is the fact that I know I would do it again without question. For her, for Killer, even for fucking Aiden. I would kill for every single one of them, and I know they would do the same for me. So why do I feel so much regret?
I don’t know how long I have been here, I lost track of time after the first twelve hours. They questioned me non-stop, as I am sure they did with the rest of us. Endless amounts of questions and all I could think about was the fact that I was the only person who deserved to truly be here. There might have been a fucking dead body in our clubhouse, but the only one who committed murder this week, was me. Yet did they know that? No, of course not. Instead it was question after question about that useless cunt of a whore who betrayed us. Fuck, if she wasn’t dead, I would have killed her myself with my bare hands.
Never did I think I could murder someone so freely, but the second I saw Hustler with the gun in his hand I didn’t stop to think. My gun was aimed and fired before he even had a chance to squeeze the trigger, and I justified it by telling myself it was to save her. I wasn’t a murderer, I was just protecting someone I love, and that balanced out the scale of my crime. Yet when we entered the clubhouse and I saw Candice lying there surrounded by blood and worse, roses. God those fucking roses, I knew I would kill again, and I would do it without a care, but for some reason in the silence of my mind, all I can see is Mitch’s cold, dead eyes.
It’s those thoughts I am lost in when the door bangs open and I jolt. “Bishop, let’s go.” The officer booms, and I internally groan as I stand up and roll my shoulders to release the tension.
I guess it’s time for another round of questioning, which is a waste of both our times, they know I won’t say anything. I haven’t said a fucking word since the second they put those cuffs on me, not since they put those cuffs on her. We leave the cell and my eyes flare wide around the station as he walks me through, just looking for any sign of Rebecca or one of my brothers, and when he leads me to the front desk instead of a questioning room, I frown in confusion.
There is a man in a suit talking sternly to the officer on the desk, and I can see someone in an FBI vest listening intently with exasperation lining their stare. I flick my gaze around all of them as I wonder what the fuck is going on before the man turns to me and smiles.
“You are free to go for now, Mr. Bishop, sorry for any inconvenience caused. The officers will be in touch if they have any more questions.” I’m pretty sure I can’t keep the shock off my face as I stare at him, and again I look to the officers around him as if to seek confirmation.
“You’re letting me go?” I ask in slight amusement, as if this is some kind of joke, which in a way I guess it is. I just fucking killed someone and they are letting me go.
The man in the suit nods, grabbing my stuff from the officer behind the desk and holding it out to me. When I accept, he gently grabs my arm and steers me towards the door as he lowers his voice. “I am working on getting the rest of the Hallowed Crows released as we speak, but it will take some time. It’s a lot of strings I have to pull on.” He looks annoyed by the whole concept of having to deal with an MC, like he has bigger fish to fry, yet all I feel is confused.
I stop walking and pull my arm from his grip as I stare at him. “I’m sorry, but who the hell are you?”
The man straightens his shoulders, looking annoyed to be questioned instead of me just being grateful at his very presence, as he snaps, “I’m Nick Avery, criminal defense attorney.” When I don’t react because his name means absolutely nothing to me, he leans in closer and adds in a whisper, “Elle King sends her regards.”
The scoffed laugh leaves me before I can stop it. I should have fucking known. Of course the little murdering princess with too much money and bodies under her belt has sent a fucking lawyer to save the goddamn day. I don’t know why I am even surprised, in fact it’s getting embarrassing how often she is having to ride in on her fucking white horse and pull us out of trouble. We have a reputation to uphold, and Black Hallows Barbie is hell bent on ruining it. I know I should be grateful, but all I can feel right now is fucking pissed.
“Of course she does,” I mutter beneath my breath before I look back at him. “Anything else I need to know?”
He watches me carefully, almost as if he can read every thought in my mind, and knows exactly how much blood is stained on my hands, before he smiles a cold smile. “Try not to kill anyone else this week, Mr. Bishop, I don’t want to be pulled out of another golf game with the Senator.”
Rich fucking prick.
My grin is almost feral as I cock my head at him. “I’ll try my best.” I don’t wait for him to respond, just push out of the doors and head into the night.
I don’t even think about the fact I have nowhere to go, or the fact I don’t know how many fucking Crows are still trapped inside. Fuck. Rebecca, where is she? Is she still inside, or did Elle get her out too? So many fucking questions and as I rip open my bag of stuff and slide my arms into my cut, it feels like the only person who is able to find the answers is me.
Just as I have that thought, a sharp, familiar whistle pierces through the air and I freeze. I look around but don’t see anything, and I am sure I imagined it. But then I hear it again and I cock my head to the side, eyes fixed on the wooded area beside the station. I walk slowly towards the darkness, very aware I don’t have any kind of weapon to defend myself, but before I can make it any closer, headlights flash on and I can make out a black car.
“Hurry the fuck up, Bishop, before I get fucking cuffed again!” A sharp voice cuts into the dark, and I fucking smile. Angel.
I jog towards the car and lean down to peer into the window and smile when I see his face. “Thought you needed space?” I ask like an asshole, and if looks could fucking kill, he would have sliced me open right here.
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head as if wondering why the fuck he even came for me, before he smiles. “Yeah well, someone had to be there for your fucking girl while you were being a dumb asshole, isn’t that always me?”
His words slam into me at force as my smile drops and I ask, “You’ve got Bex?” He nods slowly, and I feel as if a weight of a thousand fucking mountains lifts off my chest. I don’t say anything else, just round the car and get in, not caring where he is taking us, as long as he is taking us to her.
We drive into the night and away from the station, and the closer we get to the edge of town, the more at ease I feel, despite the fact Angel confirmed I am the first person to get let out after Rebecca. Which means my brothers are still in their cells at the station. They will keep questioning them all until they get out, or worse, are charged for something they didn’t fucking do, and I try to keep my anger in check when I think about that.
When we pull up to a huge, dark building, I raise my eyebrows, studying the architecture that tells me whoever lives here has money, and I’m talking big money, but Angel isn’t fazed as he navigates his way into the underground garage and greets some of the guards with a nod of the head. I hear a few of them calling him Ghost and it’s still weird to hear him be called something other than Angel, and I can’t help but wonder what kind of life he was living for the last two years. He doesn’t say much as he guides me towards an elevator and I feel every guard we pass eyeing the cut across my back. When we get inside he punches the button for the seventeenth floor and then up we go.
When we get off and walk towards a door guarded by two men, Angel pauses to greet them. “Leo, Mykos,” he nods at them. “Anything for me?”
The men shake their heads, eyeing me with amusement, and it’s only then I recognize them as two of the men that came to the clubhouse with Blade the other night. I nod my own head in greeting and they part to let us in as Angel swipes a card at the door. When it opens he steps aside to let me pass, but when I do I notice he pauses at the threshold not entering.
“She’s in there, she’s probably sleeping by now,” he starts, pain and exhaustion lining his face as he looks at me. “Security on the building is tight, no one gets in that we don't want to get in, and there will be guards on this floor at all times, you’re safe here.”
I don’t miss the unspoken words of her being safe here, of him protecting her with everything he has got because he loves her, and there is nothing I can say but nod again in thanks. When he closes the door leaving me alone in the apartment with her, I can’t help but feel his pain. He is good, the kind of man that was made for her, a true fucking angel. Yet our girl fell for the devils instead, and now she gets to live in hell with all of us.
Quietly I make my way to the closed bedroom door, and when I open it, I find a sight I have seen a thousand times. Rebecca is curled up in the center of the bed alone, so much space around her that as if even subconsciously she is leaving room for us. I enter silently, making my way towards her and when I sit down beside her, she doesn’t even stir. I watch her, my eyes dragging over every inch of her to make sure she is okay, and then I almost laugh because she isn't okay. She will never be okay again, not after everything she has been through, and now here we are, falling apart all over again.
