Page 16 of Bad Like Me

14

Crow

Ghoul calledan impromptu meeting at the clubhouse to line everything out for when Heavy and the guys arrived. The more we talked about it, the hotter my blood boiled. If The Dogs hadn’t tried to cut us out of the deal, none of this shit would be necessary. I was happy to see our brothers regardless of the reason, but I wished it was under better circumstances.

“What’s the plan, Boss?” Wily mumbled over his cup of coffee, no doubt nursing his hangover.

Ghoul’s light blue eyes trailed to me, and he tipped his head to the side. “What do you think, Crow? How should we handle them if and when they come knocking?”

“Not really sure, Ghoul. But if they are stupid enough to bring it to our doorstep, we’ll be ready for whatever.” I sipped my black coffee, thinking of the many ways we could torture them. Some people got their road names for noticeable physical traits, like Sledgehammer. He earned his name for the thing he called a dick. It more closely resembled a hammer, and he would nail anything that sat still long enough. The same could be said for Sac; his name left little to the imagination, and it was pretty apparent to people why we called him what we did. My name, on the other hand, was a little harder for people to figure out unless they were truly familiar with crows. They’re adaptable birds that never forget a face, and often, the murder, a group of crows, will group together to hunt down a predator if it has killed one of their own. All of these things were true for me as well. I usually wasn’t the first to draw blood, but if you fucked with us, I would find you by any means required and seek retribution. I might not remember everyone’s name, but I would recognize their face as if it had been scorched into my mind.

“That’s a damn sure thing,” Circuit agreed, grabbing a broom, and sweeping dirt into a pile on the floor.

“How about we table this for now and discuss it further once Heavy arrives?” Wily prompted us, grabbing a hold of the discussion and bringing it to order since the subject was going nowhere fast. He was the best SAA I’d ever seen, and I was happy to call him brother. It was his job to keep us in line when it came to stuff like this, so he was usually the levelheaded one during the meetings.

We all consented and would have church on Wednesday after the DC chapter arrived. It gave us time to think about how to handle the situation…if there was one. I made a quick stop at the shop to check on everything.

Lonnie had just finished an oil change and was lowering the car off the rack as I walked through the doors. “How’s everything, Lon?”

“Just getting ready to close down for the day. Did you need something?” He pulled his gloves off one at a time, lifting his hat and wiping the sweat off his brow on the sleeve of his jean uniform as he walked into the office to print out the customer’s ticket.

“Nah, just checking on you guys while I had a few minutes. Need anything?” I followed him, taking the time to listen to the bell ding above the door—my favorite thing about the shop when I was a little boy. Dad used to get so pissed at me continuously opening and closing the door just to ring a bell. The strangest things that most did not give much thought to, ended up being the things your mind tied memories to.

“I think we’re pretty good here,” he mindlessly answered, his hand clicking away on the mouse. “No, scratch that. We’re running low on plugs, brake shoes, wiper blades…Okay, we need to order some shit.” He chuckled and raised his hands over his head as he shrugged.

“Write me up an item list and I’ll order them Friday. Think we can make it until then?”

“Should be fine, if not, I’ll have John run out and get what we need.”

“Sounds good to me. Call me if you need anything in the meantime.”

“Will do.” He grabbed the brim of his ballcap and tipped it in my direction before giving his undivided attention to the customer. Lon had to be pushing eighty. He was one of the last workers Dad had hired before he passed away, and Lon wasn’t young then. Per the government, he was only allowed to work so many hours, or he would lose his pension. Even when he wasn’t working, he still came to the shop to drink coffee and bark orders at the younger employees. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for me to slip his son, John, a wad of cash for him to sneak into his dad’s house. When Lon would tell tales to us guys about him being one of the luckiest sons of a bitch since he always found extra cash laying around the house, I would grin and encourage him to continue with more stories.

On a general note, I wasn’t an asshole, people only assumed I was. I lived by a code in and out of the club. I made it a point to ensure nothing illegal was intertwined with my business. It was one of the only aspects of my life I kept separate from the club. I refused to ruin Dad’s name for my own profit. He might not have been there in all the conventional senses other fathers were, but he taught me how to be a fine businessman. I treated my employees well, and in turn, they kept the customers happy.

I drank too much and had almost lost count of the number of times a tattoo gun engraved ink into my skin, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a good person…minus countless felonies. Who knew, had I moved out of Cleveland, my life might have taken an entirely different direction. Maybe I might have enrolled in the military or some shit. Truly, I had no clue. The possibilities were endless and pointless to consider because the blinding fact was, I hadn’t moved out of Ohio and may never.

* * *

My favorite partabout riding wasn’t hearing the power of the engine, although it was something I enjoyed. It was the serenity. When I was on my bike, things seemed right with the world. Time slowed just enough for me to break through my cloudy judgment and see things clearly. Although Ray and I hadn’t spent much time together recently, it was almost as if we’d picked up where we left off except on better terms. I wasn’t sure where we would end up, but I hoped it was together, and this time we would make it last. I would put in the work and not give up so easily. My mind was made up. As soon as I got home, I was going to lay it all out for her, and we could move forward. It was a ballsy move, but I wasn’t known for being meek. I spoke my mind to everyone else, but with her, I held back, afraid of what she might think. Afraid I’d lose her again.

Slowing my speed and pulling into the driveway, the open front door caught my attention. I shook my head and smiled, figuring Ray had gone out to get some air and had forgotten to close it when she went inside. I didn’t want to scare her, but I needed to ease her into the subject that it wasn’t safe right now. I would protect her, without question, however, I couldn’t do so if she did things like this.

The air was stale inside the house yet had a crispness to it. There was an undeniable lingering scent of blood that grew stronger with each step I took toward the living room. “Ray!” I yelled her name so loud and with such force, my body shook. Fuck. Where was she? I prayed to God that she was okay. Not like this. Shit. Fear throbbed through my veins, and I stumbled into the living room. A pool of blood was in the center of the room. It wasn’t hers. It couldn’t be hers. Tears stung my eyes, and I told myself to remain calm. I had to. The blood was streaked, and I could make out a small print. Her handprint. It was certainly too small to belong to a man.

“Ray. Please answer me!” I begged in a voice so weak I didn’t even recognize it as my own, although my lips moved when it was said. Frantically, I searched all of the rooms in the house for her, but she wasn’t here. “What have I done?” I sobbed into the empty house, calling her cell, praying she would answer and have a feasible explanation for all of this. I counted out the rings aloud, “One. Two. Come on, Ray. Three. Fucking answer. Four. Fuck!” I screamed when it went to voicemail. My knees kissed the floor, and I clasped my head in my hands after pulling Wily’s name up on the screen.

“What’s up?”

I cut him off, “Get here. Now.” Ending the call, I let the phone slip from my hands and clatter to the floor in defeat. This was my fault. If I never stopped by her house, she would still be safe. The amount of horror I’d unintentionally brought into her life was unmeasurable. While I foolishly accepted her back into my life, the dread was pouring into hers by the gallons. I knew I would ruin her, but false hopes and expectations had me floating amongst a sea of blindness. I was too buoyant to rip the fucking blinders off to recognize that each time I touched her, all my transgressions seeped from my body into hers. She’d paid for my sin in blood.

Her voice tipped with a hint of playfulness echoed in my ears, “Are you bad like me?”

I had told her I was a fucking nightmare, knowing I would stain her innocence, but it was mostly a joke. I didn’t actually believe the words as I spat them out. When I told her I was the fucking worst, the meaning of the statement hadn’t sunken into my bones. Now, kneeling in a pool of what I could only assume to be her blood, I understood their true meaning.

I hated myself. My fingertips touched the bloody print of hers, and I whispered, “I’m sorry, Ray,” as vicious uncontrollable sobs left my body. “I’m so sorry.”

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