Page 4 of Storm

Kelsey's big, brown, chocolate eyes stare up at me every time she hits the target. She is so damn adorable. Her excitement is contagious and we celebrate with every can that's taken down. Her dark hair blows in the wind, wafting the scent of orange creamsicle push pops in my face. I inhale deeply, commemorating this moment to memory and I peer down at her glowing face. I know she’s worth all the shit I get from my friends for hanging out with a girl younger than me. They just don’t know her like I do.

She’s mature for her age. Hell, she's more mature than me at times. Even when I know her mom leaves her to survive on her own, her head is still held high when I would be lost if I was put in her shoes. I admire her excitement over learning new things, the smile that lights her face when she masters a new skill, and the way she takes shit from no one makes her a total badass with a hell of a right hook.

Anytime, I get a new weapon or learn a new fight move or defensive maneuver I teach it to her. We still have to hide from my dad, but it is well worth it. The days I get to spend with Kelsey. They’re the best days of my life. We’ve moved up from the play fighting we did two years ago. Nowadays we hug, hold hands, and I give her kisses on the cheek, but that's as far as we have gone. It’s all pretty innocent compared to what my friends have said they’ve done with their girlfriends. The twins Price and Cash and I know Murphy has all had sex with girls, sometimes even the girls at the club will fuck around and give them blowjobs, hoping that when they are old enough they will let them be their Crowettes. I know though, as soon as she turns seventeen, I am going to ask her to be mine, and I have no doubt she’ll say yes.

Chapter7

Storm

Now

"Okay. I'll leave tomorrow. Thank you for letting me know." I end the conversation and slump over in my chair.

My mother is dead. I can't believe it. I haven't talked to her since the night of my seventeenth birthday. An overdose is what they claimed her cause of death was from. That doesn't surprise me though considering she used to buy drugs with our grocery money. I have to act like I wasn’t hungry when I’d hang out with Talon. He’d thankfully share his snacks with me anyways. Deep down I think he knew, he was just nice enough to never bring it up. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

"You okay, Madam President?" Chyna, my vice president asks.

She’s smart, strong and always has my back. Her road name suits her. She’s named after the woman wrestler, who’s muscular and tall. Of course, on top of all that, she also looks like a china doll. Except she isn't fragile, no not breakable or dainty, but she is broken. Hell, all of us are in our own ways. Chyna is a badass jiu-jitsu black belt and a woman's body building champion. She’s tough as nails. I once saw her take on three big ass muscular dudes and not shed a drop of sweat.

“Hey, I asked if you were okay?” she asks again this time with more worry in her tone as she saunters into the war room. It’s a big room in the center of the club house with a massive table where we hold our meetings called church.

"Uh, yeah," I reply after shaking away some of the memories from my past and coming back to reality. Chyna looks me over with her brows bunched in concern. I turn and take a beer out of the small refrigerator in the corner, knowing I’ll need this. “Message the counsel. I need to talk to y'all please," I say, taking a guzzle of my beer.

Ten minutes later, the war room is filled with all of my council members. I scan the room filled with the girls, nay, the women in front of me. All of them are different sizes, from different backgrounds, different personalities. All of them would give their life for another person in the room. Sisterhood, built stronger than any blood connection. Family of our own choosing. They’re all chatting among themselves, some are laughing and their faces glow until I find them. My posture becomes straighter as my chest fills with pride. I’m proud of the sisterhood I brought together.

I clear my throat to gain their attention and I’m not sure exactly how I should feel at this time about the information I’m about to share with them. All the same, I can’t keep anything from them. They all look to me for instruction, waiting to hear what I have to say.

"My mom died last week," I say, in a matter-of-fact voice that’s void of any emotions. "I need Siren, Chyna and Trinity to get packed. Y’all are coming with me."

"Trinity, you need to get us to my hometown, Jackson, Kentucky. Make sure you contact all of the clubs along the way. It doesn’t matter if they give you shit because we are women, this is a courtesy call," I command, standing up and spreading my palms over the old oak table. My fingers brush the edge of the brand that symbolizes all that I’ve worked so hard for. “Besides the Murder of Crows MC, those I'll inform personally."

Trinity is a femme fatale. She has the body and face of a runway model. She’s beautiful with blonde hair and blue eyes. You can't look at her and tell that she’s a tough biker bitch that will stab you, cut you from sternum to belly button and not think twice about it. However, as hot as her blade wielding is, her love for traveling and road management is greater. That's what she is to the Daughter of Doom, the road captain. She finds quick routes, stops, and things for club trips. Trinity also makes sure maintenance and provisions are up to par with all the bikes. Her girlfriend, Katana, helps her in the garage from time to time.

“Bear and Quinn, you two are in charge while we are away. Shouldn't be more than a few days." I grab another beer from the refrigerator and kill it.

"Yes, boss," they both say unanimously.

"Text me if you have any problems or concerns." My focus is on the group but my words are directed at my right two hand women. "Okay, get your shit together and make sure you're packing heat."

The girls get up and leave the room, and I think about my mother and the fucking hell we are about to walk into.

Thanks, mom. I think, sarcastically.

Chapter8

Ace

Now

Icall the lawyers office, while fighting with myself on whether I should have or not. I want to see Kelsey, but not at the expense of her mother dying. I’ve wondered through the years where she was, if she was happy, and why she left so suddenly. How could she leave me so easily? I’ve had private detectives, used Techie’s extraordinary skills, and it’s like she disappeared from the planet. My eighteen-year-old heart was broken when I realized she had left and didn't even tell me goodbye. She left me confused, sad, and heart broken. I tried through many women to get over Kelsey, sinking my cock into nameless, faceless pussy to try to ease my broken heart. Now she's coming back to town and I have every intention of asking her every question I've wanted to know the answers to for the last decade.

A hard pounding comes at my bedroom door just after I get out of the shower. I throw a blue towel around me as steam continues to billow out into my room. "What the fuck do you want?" I ask, yanking the door open.

A girl with long blonde hair stands in the entryway, wearing nothing but a lace bra and a pair of thongs. Her round shiny blue eyes peer up at me as if she’s a lost fawn that’s been sent straight into the lion’s den.

“Hi, Prez, the boys sent me up here. Said you might want some company tonight." Her voice is high, squeaky, almost child-like.

I glare at her with a scowl on my face. “No, Ginger, I don't need any company. Go hit up Bull or Rooster. I'm sure they will be more than willing for your company tonight." Uninterested in her offer, I close the door in her face.

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