“They do have something but it only involves one of you,” Crow tells us.
“Who?” Snake demands.
Crow lands his eyes on me. Titling his head to the side he says lowly, “Remember Chris Townsend?”
Chris Townsend.
Road name Stud.
The man I brutally killed for raping Nora.
“There’s evidence that can gain footing that you were the one who killed him. There’s motive, a questionable alibi, and several witnesses have said you were the last one to see him.”
The only witnesses that would have been brave enough to come forward are the members of The Nightcrawlers MC who remained but we forced to flee town or family and friends of Stud.
Either way I feel no guilt for his blood on my hands. In fact I think the fucker got off easy. I didn’t make him suffer long like I had wanted.
“I don’t understand,” comes from Dex who is genuinely confused, “since when did the feds take murder cases the police department can handle?”
“They can take on murder cases for a number of reasons but in this case they’re investigating because they believe the purpose of this murder was to promote a criminal enterprise,” Crow explains.
“That’s bullshit,” Slater mutters, his face getting heated. “This club doesn’t run like that. Why would they believe that for Oak?”
Fuck.
I know why.
I glance over at Sticks whose facial expression mirrors my own. He grits his teeth as his brows are furrowed with silent anger.
“I was only a prospect at the time. And after his death Sticks patched me in as a member,” I tell them. I still remember being patched in. At the time the only other members were Dex and Pax with a few older men who wouldn’t be able to ride anymore. There were a few other prospects but none of them had made the cut.
Sticks eyes cut over to Crow as he asks him lowly, “What we say stays here do you understand? If you have a wire I want you out. If you’re secretly working with them I will gut you like the pig you are. Do you understand?”
Crow remains unaffected, as always. “If I wanted to turn on you and your club I would’ve done it the moment my father died two years ago. My position remains the same. As I told you almost a year ago I want us to work together. You and your club are the ones who are making that difficult.”
“You burned one of my men, Crow,” Sticks reminds him not lightly. “And if he hasn’t forgiven you then none of us will.”
Crow snorts. “I have a better chance of getting cold water in Hell.”
“It’s where you fucking belong,” I mutter under my breath.
Of course he catches it and narrows his eyes at me. “One mistake and you’re damning me for it? Have you never made a mistake before?”
“I didn’t fuck another man’s woman,” I bite.
Crow looks genuinely tired of this, as if he’s heard it a million times. But I don’t give a fuck. He doesn’t understand that whether he knew or not he made me feel less of a man. That him and Lana took my broken heart and shattered it.
“I didn’t know, Oak. If I had it would’ve never have happened. Don’t you think I regret it?”
“I honestly could give a fuck less what you think, Crow. You’re here helping us and that’s great. Good for you. But I still don’t respect you and I still don’t fucking like you.”
“I’m not asking you to like me. Hell, I’m not even asking to be your friend.”
“Then what do you want? My forgiveness?” I laugh darkly. “Well I’m not a priest and this isn’t a confessional.”
“Your forgiveness would be nice but I’m not seeking it. Not no more. You’ve already made it clear that you are in no way capable of moving on from the fucking past. And honestly, Oak, that makes me pity you.”
My jaw ticks as my finger twitches in my lap.
