God, I couldn't believe how stupid I was, to just blurt it out like that. No warning. No hints. And he had only just come back to me from whatever dark place he went while he thought he was no good for me. For the rest of my life, the memory of that impulse would haunt me. Along with the what-ifs. What if I waited? What if I let him say it first? What if I just took what he gave, and loved him silently?

  I should hate the day I met him, but I couldn't. Something changed in me then. Later, even after he hurt me so badly by ignoring my messages, when trouble came, my instincts still demanded I call him. Before Crank, if I saw something wrong or illegal, I never hesitated to contact law enforcement. What was it about him that changed me so deeply? It was a stupid question. I knew the answer already. My heart belonged to him from the moment he began to flirt with me so outrageously. I just didn't realize it at the time.

  A long time later, with my heart aching, I slipped out of the bed and went to hide in the bathroom. The shower concealed the sounds of the sobs that refused to hold off any longer. But even that small space no longer held refuge. The many times Crank and I made love under the spray of water were indelibly printed on my mind. The beat of water on my skin catapulted me back in time to relive those experiences.

  Eventually, unable to wallow in self-pity any longer, I shut the water off, and took my time getting dressed for whatever lay ahead. Oddly, this time, my grief left little evidence on my face. It felt wrong for my heart to lie in tatters, while I showed no outward sign. But if that's what it took to give me the strength to get through what lay ahead, I would take it.

  When no further excuse to hide in the bathroom remained, I opened the door, hoping to stay silent and not disturb Crank. Maybe I could even slip from the room before he woke.

  Stepping out into the still dark room, I came up hard against a wall of muscle, and large hands rescued me from falling. A startled half-scream left my lips.

  "Sarah. It's me. Calm down." Crank's reassuring rumble threatened to break down the meager defenses I'd built.

  I pulled away. "Sorry. All yours now." I moved to step around him, but he caught me to him.

  "Sarah, I'm sorry."

  "Don't worry about it. My fault." This time when I tried to go around him, to my great relief, he allowed it.

  "Make no mistake, Sarah, we're going to talk about this. But right now, I have to piss, really bad. So you have a minute." He disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  One glance out the window at the parking lot, still in heavy shadows, killed my determination to leave the room. Besides, my heart was already destroyed. He couldn't do much more damage, so I might as well let him assuage his guilty conscience. At least he could get on with his life without feeling too badly.

  I stood there a moment in the dark, unsure where to sit. The bed seemed far too suggestive, so I settled into one of the straight chairs by the little table.

  He came out of the bathroom, flipped on a bedside lamp, and settled onto the bed, as naked as when he went to sleep last night. "Over here, Sarah." He patted the bed at his side. "What I have to say isn't easy, and I don't want to have to try to be heard."

  How could I be that close to his nakedness and not touch? Self-preservation kicked in. I bolted, fumbling with the lock, but reaching freedom. He couldn't come after me naked, someone might see him. I paused to look back.

  He stood shameless in the doorway. "Sarah, I'm not fucking playing. Don't make me come get you." One raised eyebrow testified to his seriousness.

  I ran. Surely Two Case or Gator would help me.

  The only warning came as a soft sound behind me before strong arms wrapped around my waist. Crank's familiar scent overwhelmed my senses. "Goddamn, Sarah, you're going to fucking listen if it kills me." He swung me over his shoulder and started walking. Inside the room, he put me down, but kept himself between me and the door. "Sit on the fucking bed."

  I shrugged. "Fine." I moved to the bed, and took a seat on the edge, as far from his side as possible. "What is it?"

  He gave a dark chuckle as he sat down. "Sarah, I'm not going to molest you, or some shit like that. Relax."

  Stifling a sigh, I complied, leaning back against the headboard. "Better?"

  "Not much, but it'll fucking do." He moved his pillow, and turned, putting his feet at the top of the headboard, then lay back, knees bent, so he could look straight up into my face. "Like I said, I need to say something, and it isn't easy. I'd rather do it face to face, but this works, too."

  Intrigued despite my need to maintain some distance, I shrugged. "Okay?"

  He took a deep breath. "I told you a little about how I grew up. I left out the part about the girls." Another deep breath. "I was pretty big for my age, and tall. The first time, I was twelve, I think. I'd always fucking known what my old man was, but I wasn't prepared for older kids wanting shine or weed, and being willing to do anything to get it for cheap."

  A nagging sense of horror built in my stomach, but I stayed silent.

  "An older girl on the bus, maybe sixteen, said she had something really cool to show me, but only if I got her a quart of shine. Curious about what an older girl might want to show me, I did it. I didn't know shit about sex, beyond the very basics, but I fucking enjoyed that first head job. The next day, I heard her joking with her friends about blowing the shiner's kid for a free quart. That was the beginning." He paused for another deep breath.

  Fear for that little boy, and dread for what he faced, filled me, but still, I kept quiet, and waited.

  "They offered anything and everything. Sex. Other drugs. Even love. I learned real fast that love was a fucking myth. It was something to use to get what you wanted. Later, I wasn't above using it myself, though I couldn't bring myself to actually say it. After my old man died, I had a rep. By then, I could get anything a chick wanted, for a price. Somewhere along the way, probably when I was going to college, I fucking realized what I'd been. But after that wreck, I didn't give a flying fuck any more. Bitches came and went, willing to do or say anything for a chance to be a Hell Raider's ol' lady." He closed his eyes for a moment, and something that could have been a tear squeezed from between his lids.

  At that point, I loved him more than before, if that were even possible. But he didn't seem finished, so I waited, and fought the urge to comfort him.

  "I went on about my life, fucking any bitch that came along hot enough to suit me, but I knew, without a fucking doubt, whenever one of my brothers fell for some chick, they were getting taken. Love couldn't exist, otherwise, no one would throw it around so fucking carelessly. But then, I met you." Deep breath again. "Suddenly, I knew. I fell in love with you the moment you glared at me like you wanted to scratch my eyes out. I just never expected to get it back."

  My own tears slid unchecked down my cheeks.

  He moved for the first time, taking my hand. "Sarah, I fucked up, in more ways than one. I know that. It might kill me, but I understand if you can't forgive me for hurting you. But don't you ever doubt that I fucking love you."

  Stunned, I let his words soak in. "Crank, I…I had no idea."

  "Nobody did. I trust my brothers with my life, but not with that shit. You are the only person on this fucking earth who can truly hurt me. And I don't regret giving you that."

  I struggled for words. "Crank, I could never deliberately hurt you. I was prepared to walk out of your life to spare you the discomfort of facing me this morning, because I actually do love you."

  A feral sounding growl escaped him as he dragged me down into his arms, to kiss me like the world was drawing to the end and we would never have another moment.

  Crank:

  A long while after my confession, I lay there with a sleeping Sarah nestled in my arms, just thinking. Why did it take the prospect of truly losing her forever for me to talk to her? I could have saved us both a lot of heartache by just saying it. For the life of me, though, I thought she knew I loved her. Sure I hadn't said the words, but I did say we were forever, and she was mine. Apparently, that didn't mean the same fucking thing.

  My phone buzzed and I ignored the fucker. Lying there with a warm and sated Sarah cuddled up close was my only fucking goal in life. The damn thing finally fell silent, and I started to doze off, until a thunderous pounding started at the door.

  "Crank, open up." Two Case's voice echoed through the room. Fuck, half the town probably heard him.

  Sarah slept on, so I slid from the bed, trying not to wake her. It took a minute, but I found my jeans and opened the door. I signaled Two Case for quiet and stepped aside to let him in.

  After a quick glance at the bed, he nodded. "Glad you got that sorted out. But I've been trying to call you for over an hour."

  "Sorry, man. Must have dozed off."

  "Sennit is picking Lanea and a couple of the other girls up at noon. Figured you might need a little wakeup call after your morning jog."

  I chuckled. "Should have known you had someone watching." I glanced back at Sarah. "Have to admit, this is getting wrapped up faster than I expected." More like I hoped it might take a little longer. Yeah, that wasn't good for Lanea, but it would give me more time with Sarah without having to explain other things about my life.

  "Yeah, I didn't either. I have Runner and Storm, along with a couple of others, watching and ready to follow. Just be ready to roll at eleven-thirty, and we'll be right behind them when they get there." He glanced toward the bed again. "Even though I would rather not have a civilian involved in this shit storm, we might need her to help with some of the kids."

  I nodded. "Yeah, fucking truth there. We'll be over at the other room before eleven-thirty." A fist-bump later, I closed the door behind him and locked it, then turned back to the bed. We had just over an hour to get ready, and I needed to get Sarah something to eat. Couldn't have her fucking fainting from hunger in the middle of cleaning this shit up.

  I sat on the edge of the bed beside her and pulled a little of the sheet down to expose the curve of her back. That satin skin could hold my full attention for fucking ever. Fascinated by the texture, I ran a fingertip down her spine. It must have tickled, because she squirmed just a little, then went still again, sleeping soundly.

  Would she get inked for me? Just the thought of my fucking name on her skin gave me a raging hard-on. Ol' Lester did some beautiful work on the ol' ladies, and whichever chicks wanted ink. He had a way of working script in with the skulls and flames of the Hell Raiders, and adding detailed roses to give it a feminine touch, that fucking surpassed any other ink-slinger in the region.

  If she agreed to a tattoo, where would he choose to put my name on Sarah? Most of the ol' ladies had the ink on their arms, clearly visible, but a couple had larger, more detailed pieces on their backs as well. I wanted everyone to see that Sarah belonged to me, so a forearm would be best. But my fucking name trailing along the length of her spine? The idea made me instantly need to be balls deep inside her. Too bad we had a fucking schedule to keep. One more thing to punish Sennit for.

  With no more time to waste, I stroked more firmly along her back. "Time to rise and shine, baby."

  She stirred a little and smiled. "Mmm. Keep doing that."

  My dick surged in my jeans, but instead of following orders, I flipped the sheet back further and smacked her lightly on the ass. "No time. We have to be ready to roll in an hour, and I thought you might want to shower first."

  Startled, she turned over to pout at me. "Roll? It's time already?"

  "We're going to take Sennit's ass out today."

  My words acted like a NOX injection to a street racer. She sat bolt upright. "Why didn't you say so? I can be ready in ten minutes."

  "Nah, you don't have to rush that much. It's a little after ten now, and we don't need to meet Two Case and Gator until eleven-thirty. You have time for a good hot shower, and I'll go get us something to eat while you do that." I had to fucking leave the room when she went into that shower, or I would be in there fucking her up against the wall, and any other way I could get her. Memory of water cascading down her back while I pounded into her had my dick trying mightily to break out of prison. I leaned in for a quick kiss. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

  She let the sheet drop completely and started for the bathroom, naked and tempting, while I tried to distract myself with pulling on clean socks. "Crank?" She paused at the door, looking back over her shoulder.

  "Yeah, baby?" Fuck, if she asked me to wash her back, our schedule would be shot all to hell.

  "I love you." She said it, just like that, as if it were the most normal fucking thing in the world.

  Those three words sent my pulse hammering into my dick. "I love you too, Sarah. Don't you ever fucking doubt that." Pushed beyond my limits for discomfort, I reached into my jeans to adjust myself. "And just so you know, any time you want me to fuck you, that's all you have to say."

  She disappeared into the bathroom with a giggle, closing the door behind her.

  I took a deep, steadying breath as the shower came on. Fuck, that woman would be the death of me, and I would go out with a hard-on. By the time I pulled on a clean t-shirt and ran my fingers over my hair to put it in something like order, I had myself under slightly better control. I shrugged into my cut, checked my weapons, and stepped into my boots quickly, in a hurry to get the fuck back to my woman.

  Outside, I needed my shades to cut the glare of the morning sun before I headed down the street to the little diner. Hopefully, they had coffee and breakfast. More people moved around in the area than I had seen before, mostly older folks, some dragging yappy little fucking dogs around on leashes. One such ankle-biter snarled and growled at me like a fucking pit guarding a stash. I growled back and the little bastard yelped and dodged behind the old gal leading him.

  The old woman laughed. "There, Tiger, I told you that shit would get you bitten." She grinned at me. "Thanks for not kicking him. He thinks he's all badass."

  I chuckled. "Gotta admire his courage anyway. He was just warning me away."

  She stooped to lift the little fur ball into her arms. "Most people don't realize that, though. You must be new around here."

  My turn to laugh. I liked the old gal. "I am, but I'm only here for a little while. But right now, I'm searching for coffee and breakfast. There a good place around here?"

  She pointed back the way she came. "Right down there. Miss Barb's pancakes are the best in the state. Me and Tiger used to get them once a week, but we can't afford it anymore."

  Fuck me. A nice old lady like that shouldn't have to worry about affording some fucking pancakes for her and her dog once a fucking week. "Well, today you can. It's on me, for all your help."

  Her face lit up like New Years. "Oh, son, you don't have to do that."

  "I know, but I got a couple extra bucks, and can't think of a better way to spend them. Maybe then ol' Tiger won't try to take my leg off." Shit, I knew better than to get noticed, especially in this neighborhood. But that didn't stop me from offering my arm and escorting the old lady back down the street like some kind of fucking gentleman.

  She giggled and prattled on about her friends, and Tiger's bravery while the little dog glared at me from his perch in the crook of her arm. In the diner, I told the old lady to order whatever she and Tiger wanted, winking at the surprised girl at the counter.

  I ordered for Sarah and me. "Throw in a couple of extra sausage links for Tiger. Little shit is hungry." After I paid, I sat at one of the little tables with the old lady and Tiger. To my surprise, no one objected to the dog's presence inside the diner.

  "My name is Glory, by the way, at least, that's what they call me to my face."

  I couldn't hold back another chuckle. "We're in the same boat then. They call me Crank, but most call me other shit behind my back."

  She offered a fragile hand across the table. "Well, Crank, I'm pleased to meet you. We don't get many MC boys around here, now that my Jake Brake is gone. After he died, his boys all moved on."

  I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You were an ol' lady?"

  A proud nod served as the only necessary reply. "Can I ask you a favor? I know you're not obligated but—"

  "What do you need, Glory? I'll see to it, if I possibly can."

  She glanced around at the other patrons, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. "There's this man, lives right down there." She nodded in the general direction of the hotel. "Him and his woman take in foster kids, and they put up a good front, but somethin' ain't right. He's hurting them kids."

  "How do you know?" No fucking doubt, she was talking about Lanea's 'foster father'.

  She glanced around again. "I've seen a couple of the girls come running out of there, crying. The one I got a good look at, her mouth was all swollen, and she had semen on her face. Ain't no way she blew that bastard willingly."

  I attempted to swallow back my rage. "What would you like to see happen to him, Glory?"

  Her grin seemed surprisingly bloodthirsty for a sweet little old lady. "Well, I'd like to see him took care of like my Jake Brake would have done. He'd have cut out his balls and give 'em to the dogs. But I'll settle for a beat-down and a warning, if you could do it."

  I winked at her. "Consider it done, Glory. Before I leave town, the fucker won't want to look at another kid, ever. And you give ol' Jake Brake my regards."

  Her laugh turned a few heads. "I will surely do that, son. And thank you."

  The counter girl called out our order number, putting an end to the conversation. Maybe Two Case had someone who could look out for the old gal.

  Crank:

  Once Sarah and I finished eating, the clocked ticked over to eleven twenty. Time to get over to Two Case's room. I dropped our shit in the SUV, because I had no intention of returning to the hotel after we finished. The climate might be just a little too fucking hot in that area for me when the officials learned about it all.

  Two Case and Gator had torn down their whole listening-post setup, and Gator currently had earphones plugged into his cell, so maybe he'd transferred everything over to monitor that way. The pair were armed to the teeth, not bothering to conceal the weapons they carried.

 

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