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Losing Crow (The Bloody Saints MC Book 1)
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Losing
Crow
Bloody Saints MC Book 1
Roxanne Greening
Text Copyright 2019 © Roxanne Greening
All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved in all media. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission. Except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The moral rights of Losing Crow as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs, and patients act of 1988.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locales, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to places or events is coincidental or fictionalized.
Published in the United States of America 2019
Dedicated to my husband and kids for their love and support. To my dad and my mom for making me who I am today. And the rest of my family for all their support!
About The Author:
Roxanne Greening is a mother of two young children and lives in the beautiful rural area in West Virginia, USA. It was because of her love for reading romances, that Roxanne decided to write her own. However, it is the MC romances that she enjoys writing the most. “Being able to become a rebel, an outlaw (in fiction) is a powerful thing.” And so, Axel, the first book of the SONS OF THE APOCALYPSE, was published in August 2016.
Her comedy nonfiction, The Rantings of a Crazy Person, was born out of demands from her family and friends to write about her own experiences. And her children’s book, The chronicles of rocky and binx aka the steam punk kid and the angel of death. Titanic's Doom! Came from wanting to write a book for her son who suffers from ADHD.
Roxanne also enjoys to quilt, and secretly wants to be a ninja.
Prologue:
Three Years Ago.
I should have seen my sister’s silent screams for help. She needed me to be there for her years ago, and I had what? Not done enough. I knew the loss of our parents messed her up, but this was becoming too much. Can you save someone who really didn’t want to be saved?
I stared at my sister as anger, fear, and shame coursed through me. Shame at my previous feelings. Why couldn’t I reach her? Was I not doing enough? I honestly didn’t understand why she was doing this. Did she not see how wrong this was?
Once again, I had to come and get her. She had found herself in another shit hole with another abusive man. And here I was pulling her from the fire.
“She’s not going anywhere,” Raoul snapped at me as he grabbed her arm in what looked like an extremely painful grasp.
“She’s coming with me,” I tell him firmly.
Terror wanted to take over. Raoul had about hundred pounds maybe more on me, and he was what people called a meathead. The kind of men you found at the gym all beefed up and loaded with steroids.
I wanted to look down and make sure there were no needles around, and tears threatened to fill my eyes. This need for drugs was my sister’s way of dealing with our world going sideways.
“The fuck she is,” he shouts tugging her closer to him.
Something deep inside me roared and came surging forward. This wasn’t the first time that I went toe to toe with a bully. If my sister kept this up, I’m sure it wouldn’t be my last.
“Listen, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” I tell him. I kept my tone even when all I wanted to do was grab his head and bash it off the closest wall.
“Funny little girl. What are you going to do, cry all over me?” he laughs heartily.
Sighing, I throw my shoulders back and give him my sweetest smile.
“I know where you live, where you sleep, and where you work out. I can easily slip in and drop a little something into your favorite drink. Maybe even slip a knife between your ribs when you are high and feeling free. Name your poison, Raoul,” I tell him with a sickeningly sweet smile.
His face went a little white the more I spoke. I could see the calculations in his eyes. Would she do it? Would she come for me when I was at my lowest? Weakest?
“You don’t scare me,” he tried to put on a brave face.
“But you should be. You should be very scared of me. You have the only person left in this world that I care about, and she’s struggling in your large paw that you call a hand. You hurt her, and I promise you one thing, you won’t see me coming,” I tell him coldly.
“Little girl, I could snap your neck right now,” he tells me.
“You could, and that’s why I have put things in place. If they don’t hear from me soon, everything will be put in motion the moment my call doesn’t come in,” I look at my watch. “Only five more minutes and your life will end.”
I had given a co-worker a stack of letters. One to the cops telling them where I was going and who I saw if I didn’t make it out of here. One to his gym telling them what kind of drugs and other illegal things he was doing in their gym, and then one to his mother telling her all the heartbreaking things he’s been doing, including my death or disappearance.
“Oh really?” he laughs again.
“Raoul, did you think I would walk in here without some sort of contingency? How will your mother feel about all the things you’ve done? The cops will know where I am and with whom? Maybe even the gym you love so much?” I tell him, my tone even.
“Fuck!” he shouts.
I laugh, and it’s filled with the anger, sadness, determination, and basically every feeling that’s been locked inside me since we lost our parents in that plane crash.
“What do you want? What do I have to do to get you the fuck out of my life?” he asks.
“First, let go of my sister, then we will walk out that door and never see your fucking ugly face again. Otherwise, I will make one of my promises a reality. I will visit you, and you will cease to breathe,” I tell him calmly.
“Crazy bitch take the fucking whore,” he pushes her in my direction. I watch as she bounces off the wall and crashes to the floor.
Did she land on any of the used needles? Her eyes looked devoid of feelings telling me she was high, again. How many more times will I do this?
As many times as, it took. I told myself that I could never leave her. She was all that I had in this world. My older sister was broken, and she had only one person who gave a shit about her.
Not taking my eyes fully off the dickhead, I pull my sister to her feet. I then walked sideways down the hall and towards the door.
Sunlight burned my eyes as we made our way down the broken steps. Time to make a trip to the hospital for more tests. I hated every one of them. Was she pregnant? Did she have AIDS? Another STD?
“Julie, we can’t keep doing this,” I tell her as I buckle her into the car. For once she didn’t fight me. Instead, she sagged into the seat and stared out the window at nothing.
My heart broke a little more. I dialed Ronnie’s number and waited for her to pick up. I then quickly let her know we made it out of there.
She hated when I did this. Ronnie was my only friend, and I cherished her, but this was my sister. I will always help her.
Chapter 1
Maria
Three Weeks Ago.
I stared at my phone and held it tightly in my grip. Again, Julie called crying and begging for help. I looked at Shawn as he shoved his plastic linked rings into his mouth and started gnawing on it.
My heart melted at the sight. I couldn’t keep doing this. Shawn needed me more, and I knew this road was never going to end. If for some miracle it did, I knew it was going to end only one way, with my sister dead.
Ronnie was the only person in this world that I h
ad. We met not long after I escaped from my past, as well as Crow, and moved here.
She too was running from something, and I hoped one day she would open up and tell me. I knew from experience that sharing whatever had her changing her whole life wasn’t easy to do.
Sighing, I went under my recent calls and pressed on Ronnie’s name. I needed her to watch Shawn, and once again go on the hunt for my sister. Yes, she told me where to find her, but that didn’t mean it was going to be easy to locate her. Once I did get to the address, I had to get up the courage and walk in.
The idea of going into one of those drug infested places again made my skin crawl. I should be used to wading into the unknown filth to save Julie from another abusive, controlling drug pusher and pimp.
Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the vibrant woman my sister use to be. She was the one person I looked up too. She was my best friend, and I lost her when we lost our parents.
“I need you to watch Shawn,” I tell Ronnie when she picked up the phone.
“Again, Maria?” She asked, her tone relaying her feeling on the matter.
“I can’t leave her there,” I tell her once again. This was an on-going argument between the two of us, but she always came over to help.
“You need to let her go and walk the fuck away before she gets you killed,” Ronnie snapped.
It was something I had just been thinking about. Well, more like my sister being the one dying. Never really thought about the danger I had been putting myself in.
“She needs me, Ronnie,” I whispered.
“She can’t be saved. It’s time you just move on. Please do this, if not for yourself, then for Shawn,” she tells me, her voice was getting quieter as she lost some of her anger.
It was a low blow, and we both knew it. Just like I knew Ronnie was sorry, not that she would admit to it.
“I’m coming,” she sighed when I didn’t respond. The line went silent, and I pulled the phone from my ear. Shawn gurgled and cooed, and my heart melted, again.
Ronnie was right. What was I doing? Shawn needed a more stable environment. I was going to end this and give it my all, but when it was over, I was going to give her a choice. Go to rehab and be in our life or refuse and be on her own.
The thought of turning her away, of her not choosing us gutted me. I knew deep down she wouldn’t pick us. The hope that she would pick us was a small flame in the darkness of hopelessness.
Chapter 2
Maria
Three Weeks Ago.
The house looked like the roof was ready to cave in at any moment, the door was missing, and a few windows were missing their glass.
The porch steps were sagging, and the railing was split in half. Also, the once yellow wood siding was missing large pieces in random spots.
My nose wrinkled as I walked into the building scanning the floor as I walked. Needles littered the floor along with piss and vomit.
“Julie?” I called out, hoping she could hear me. I hoped she wasn’t in a drug induced coma.
Glass clinked somewhere down the hallway. Moving further into the druggie shithole, I scanned the open doorways not finding her.
Something was sinking like a stone in my stomach. The further I went, the deeper it sunk. Julie wasn’t here and my eyes watered.
I just wanted to help my sister. I wanted her back in my life, free of this poison she lived with. I reached the back door and sighed.
Just as I turned to go back, I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. Someone had just slid a bullet into the chamber.
I froze in place, and my ears strained to hear where the noise was coming from. I soon discovered the unmistakable accent had moved closer and closer to me.
“She’s not here, she must have slipped out,” his heavy accent sent chills down my spine.
“A few others, yes. The sister’s nephew… ,” he replied to whomever he was talking too. I could tell this guy must have been on the phone.
“Yes, Julie Botchman. Find the sister,” he told whomever.
My heart froze, and my hands turned clammy. Oh, God, this guy was talking about my sister. He was also talking about my son. What the fuck did you do Julie?
Looking around the kitchen, I looked for an escape. There was no way that I could open the door and not be heard. Although, the pantry door was opened just enough that I could slip through the crack.
Looking into the dark closet, I took a breath as I slipped in. I resisted the urge to close the door. Quietly, I stepped into the dark interior. I prayed there were no needles, glass, or anything that would make noise.
I had walked maybe six-feet into the dark room when my eyes adjusted to the large space. Shelves lined the walls, and I could see a hole in the plaster under the last shelf on the right. Squatting, I squeezed into the hole and pressed a filthy hand to my mouth.
Tears streamed freely from my eyes as terrified sobs tried to break past my trembling lips. I heard the door creak and watched as a stream of light bounced off the shelves across from me.
When it closed again, and his feet grew quieter, I knew he had moved on. Pulling out my phone I called Ronnie.
“Get Shawn and go to your house now,” I whispered fiercely into the phone.
“What’s going on, Maria?” She asked, her tone harsh.
“Please, get the fuck out of there, now,” I tell her, my voice getting hard and forceful.
“Fuck!” she shouted, “I’m out, see you soon?”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I tell her, my voice was barely above a whisper.
Putting the phone close to my chest, I took deep long sucks of oxygen into my lungs. My heart was racing at the rate I was sure a racehorse would be proud of.
I had to go back to the apartment and remove all traces of Ronnie. I also needed some of Shawn’s and my parent’s things. Stuff that I couldn’t live without.
After what felt like forever, but I was sure was only fifteen minutes, I crawled out of the hole that I was stuffed in. I then rushed out of the kitchen door.
Slowly, I circled the house and made my way to my car. I was sure to look over my shoulder and keep my eyes on my rearview mirror as I made my way home.
I wasn’t sure how long I had, but thankfully I used a fake last name to rent the place we were living. Also, Shawn’s last name was not Botchman, it was Crow.
The thought had me relaxing, only a little, into the leather seat. My knuckles unclenched from the steering wheel. It was time to hide again. This was when I should have given up. I should have said no more. But, I couldn’t. I needed to know what the fuck was going on and who the fuck had me on their radar.
I knew one thing for sure, whoever the fuck it was, they weren’t looking for me to give me some long-lost relatives estate. No, they were killers, and I knew down to the marrow of my bones I was now walking with a target on my back.
Go to him, find him, you know he will save you, my mind whispered. The thought of going to Crow got me even madder. I was already angry at my sister and the motherfuckers out to kill my son and me.
He was my last resort, my Hail Mary, the white flag that needed to be waved before I darkened his doorstep and asked him for a fucking thing.
My hands shook as I thought about Shawn, I should go to him if only to save Shawn. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t go to the one man, I knew would save him?
The kind who doesn’t want to take us from the fire into the frying pan. Because Crow was like a bull. He was just as mean, and just as deadly as the man I heard in that house.
Could I even find him? I tried before, but, I wasn’t as desperate as I was now. Also, Shawn’s life didn’t depend on it then.
Chapter 3
Maria
Three Weeks Ago.
Ronnie’s little house was white with green shutters with a green porch. My favorite part has always been the white porch swing. It had blue and green polka dot cushions with little green pillows.
I didn’t need to liv
e in an apartment. I mean, I had more then enough money to buy a house, but then I would have to sell it if I ever needed to leave. It was also another paper trail, and that would be another thing that would hold me back.
Moving was so common due to my sister. I never thought about having a cozy little house. It was something I had with my parents and Julie.
I pulled into the driveway behind her small, blue compact car. If you could call it a car, the thing was falling apart. Even from here, I could see the muffler hanging down, not completely attached where it was supposed to be.
I had offered to buy her a safer car. I mean she did me loads of favors, but she always would shake her head and tell me she liked her little car.
The door opened before I reached it, and I watched wearily as Ronnie came out and closed the door, leaving it open a crack so we could hear Shawn.
“What the fuck is going on?” She hissed at me.
She had every right to be angry. I had literally called her and made her fucking run like her life depended on it. And it did. Sighing, I rubbed at my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” I tell her. The weight of what I went through was crushing me.
“Maria,” she said gently, some of her anger was dissipating, and concern started taking its place.
“My sister did something really bad, Ronnie,” I whispered as tears filled my eyes. It was time I let Julie go. Shawn needed me more, and I should have done something before it had gotten this bad.
“I don’t know what she did, but they’re coming for us,” I told her as I slouched forward.
“Who’s coming for who?” She demanded, her tone left no room for evasiveness.
“I don’t know who they are, but I have a feeling its mob related,” I tell her sinking on the porch, my legs no longer willing to hold me.
“Who are they coming for?”
I looked up at her as the error of what I allowed happen and of what I walked into came rushing through me. Tiredness suddenly swamped me.