“It’s not me on that drive. Nor was it me who was held in that goddamn hellhole. You tell me how you want this handled.”
“Appreciate it, prez.” Crow’s giving me mad respect, and I’m not about to squander the gift. “Let’s do it smart. Give the drive to our people, and let’s take them all out one by fucking one. But not Crane. I want him to watch his world crumble. I want him to know I’m coming for him. He’s never going to see the inside of a cell.”
“Understood.” Crow’s expression is pure evil because he knows exactly what I’m implying. Let the law handle his friends. We’ll take care of Crane. “With that settled, on to a more pleasant topic. Is the lovely addition to Mayhem permanent?”
I shrug. “Haven’t had the formal conversation, but yeah, why?”
He gives me a slow smile. “Just asking.”
Currently, Jamie’s out with Ava Murphy. Crow sent the little red-head to the house earlier this afternoon, armed with enough cash to buy half of Mayhem. Crow isn’t given to sentimentality, so this is his way of thanking her for saving my life.
He also doesn’t ask empty questions. “Spit it out, bro, because there’s a bottle of Jack with my name on it that needs drinking.”
“She saved your life.”
“I’m aware of the fact.”
Crow taps a finger on his desk. “Maybe it’s time to stop holding a grudge.”
“I’m not holding a fucking grudge.”
Crow’s laughter is so loud, I wouldn’t be surprised if they heard it in Scranton. “Bullshit. You’ve held a grudge against that girl for years. I would think she’s made up for breaking your poor little heart.”
I narrow my eyes on him and give him a snarl that would have scared the shit out of a lesser man. “You’re lucky you’re my president.”
He snorts. “How about you go fuck yourself.”
“How about you suck my dick.”
“No, thanks. If I want a kid’s meal, I’ll go to McDonald’s.”
“Asshole.”
Crow’s phone pings with a text. He answers it as he talks. “Woman risks her life for you, that’s a woman worth keeping.”
“She’s married to the man who held me captive.”
He sets his phone on the desk. “Because that matters.”
It doesn’t. Not to me, and not to Jamie. And if anyone else has a problem with it, they can take it up with me, and I’ll solve it for them real quick. But I’ve only been home for a few days. I’m not ready to make some grand declaration. I mean, shit, we’re still trying to figure out what the fuck. Let me at least make the woman a widow first.
“Fine. It doesn’t,” I admit between clenched teeth.
He nods at the door. “If you’re going to claim her, do it before the barbecue.”
This fucking barbecue isn’t something I’m looking forward to, but something that needs to happen. Not only will a gathering allow everyone to welcome me home proper, it’s a show of power. A way to tell the surrounding gangs I’m back, and that it’s business as usual. Not that anyone other than senior members know I was in captivity. But people know I was gone, and my being missing in action no doubt caused suspicion—especially since Crow tore shit up looking for me. One of our notorious get-togethers will put questions to rest and let people know the Unholy’s top enforcer is back.
“Noted.” Fucking around aside, I get serious. “Crow, I need to work.”
His brows shoot up. “After less than a week? Impressive. I’ve seen people take longer to recover from a cold. That’d be a no. Consider yourself on leave until I say otherwise.”
I square my shoulders, and a muscle tics in my jaw. Crow’s my president, and I must respect the rank, but I can’t dick around and do nothing. It’s not in my nature. And I need normal because if I don’t have an outlet for the rage simmering inside me, the monsterwillbreak free.
I pull off my hoodie and lift the T-shirt, ticking my scars off one by one. “See these? These are from cattle prods. Not fun, but tolerable compared to blowtorches, which, by the way, made this nice patch of puckered skin. These slices are from knives. All these little knicks are from snips. And these hole marks? Drills. Actual power tools. That sucked. Let’s see what else. Every bone in my body was broken at least once. All my nails were ripped off. Been flayed and had my skin, literally, peeled away. Yeah, that shit’s the bomb. My back’s been whipped so many times, I’ve lost feeling in some spots because of all the scar tissue. And then the guards pumped me with noz and started it all up again as soon as I was able to stomach more pain. Oh, and in between their little torture games? They locked me in a cage eight times. No, nine. Can’t forget the last one.” I press my thumb and index finger together until they’re nearly touching. “Where I came this close to being beaten to death. Instead of dying like I was supposed to, I walked the fuck out rather than be dragged out in a body bag because I killed nine innocent men whose faces I see every time I close my goddamn eyes.” I lower my shirt. “So, I’m asking you, Crow, to please put me to work because if I don’t get back to normal, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
I didn’t intend to pop off like an asshole, but I won’t lie. Feels good to give voice to the frustration after being helpless for half a year. I can’t take one more fucking day of it. It’s why I holding back with Jamie. Trust me, I want to finish what I started with her the other day, but with the monster raging, I don’t trust myself.
Crow steeples his hands below his chin as I pull on my hoodie. His expression may be unreadable, but he can’t hide what’s in his eyes. It’s not pity because, like me, Crow’s incapable of the emotion. But rage on my behalf, fills the space between us, until I’m drowning in it.
