Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) (17 page)

“Been great seeing you, Mel. I can’t believe I ran into you like this today. I’ve actually been looking for you for a while,” Tommy said.

“You’ve been looking for me? How come you didn’t ask my family? Or Jesse’s? They knew where I was.” Melissa frowned as she gathered up the stirrers and napkins to put in the trash.

“I did ask. More than once.”

His tone made her stop what she was doing and look questioningly at him.  Tommy held her stare.

“I swear no one ever let me know that you were looking for me.” Melissa frowned. “I have no idea why they didn’t. Tommy, why wouldn’t they have told me?”

Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure they thought it would be good for you to see me.”

“That’s ridiculous. My dad and grandfather know you, they know your family, I don’t understand…”

“It’s okay. I got you now. Give me your phone so we can exchange numbers.” Something dark flashed across Tommy’s face, but in an instant it was gone.

“Why were you looking for me, Tommy?” Warning roiled in her gut.

“I …” Tommy started.

“Melissa!” Melissa turned as a shout came to her from the crowd for the second time that day. This time it was Skye who rushed towards her.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. The bumper cars. Jett wasn’t strapped in…” Skye put her hands on bent knees trying to catch her breath.

“Come on!” Tommy grabbed Melissa’s hand and they took off towards the ride, not waiting for Skye to lead the way.

Right after Crow talked with Jules, he went in search of Melissa. He hoped that she wasn't too pissed at him for running that check on her. He should have known her that her family would have had someone on that. Yeah. Dumbass move on his part. He'd just have to find a way to make it up to her. Crow grinned thinking of all the ways he'd like to try.

Crow saw Skye and Charity up ahead. They had their backs turned toward him and their attention on the dozen or so bumper cars filled with the Hells Saints kids. He scanned the perimeter and was surprised and disappointed not to see Melissa. Crow was about to turn back when he saw Jett in one of the cars. Puzzled, he scanned the area one more time quickly, then his eyes settled on Jett again.

The attendant was just getting off the floor after having snapped on the kid’s individual safety straps. Crow saw it the same time that Charity did. The attendant had missed Jett. Charity waved her hand crazily from the railing and yelled to get his attention. The worker glanced briefly at Charity but ignored her frantic stop gestures. In a bored motion, he flipped the
on
shift to the ride. The bumper cars began to move just as Crow hopped over the barrier and ran to Jett’s car. He was within a foot of him when Jett’s bumper car got hit hard from behind and the little boy’s face was slammed hard against the steel steering wheel.

Crow filled with a rage that was only eclipsed by the sheer panic he felt in the thirty seconds it took for him to reach the child. Blood streamed down Jett's chin, and his big gray eyes were double their size. Crow swept Jett into his strong arms just as Jett reached up for him.

Then Crow looked past the bumper cars swerving all around them to the attendant who was looking dully at Charity as she was yelling and pointing to the lever that would turn off the juice to the ride.

When, in exasperation, Charity pushed at the attendant’s chest and struggled to turn off the lever herself, the attendant shoved her out of the way.

Big fucking mistake.

Crow cradled Jett against him as he swiveled his body toward the stupid fucking carnie who was evidently too coked up or drunk or some fucking thing to see what was happening on the damn ride he was responsible for.

And who had dared to put his hands on a woman.

A Hells Saints Woman.

Just then Jury raced past Crow with a roar, leapt over the iron rail, and pushed the lever to stop. After doing a  quickscan of the small cars, his eyes settled on his granddaughter, Rosie, as Charity moved towards her. Satisfied that she was fine, Jury turned his attention to the jacked-up, strung out carnie responsible for the ride.  Jur
y’
s fist slamming into the attendan
t’
s gut as he raged on and on screaming threats of every imaginable physical torture filled the silence left by the rumble of the bumper cars. It took four guys to get Jury off the man who had shoved his daughter. The air thickened with tension—nobody messed with the Hells Saints families, especially a doper who was working an amusement ride. At least half a dozen brothers had kids in those cars.

Jett whimpered and Crow turned his attention back to the little boy in his arms.

He was bleeding all over Crow’s chest.

Crow cupped the little chin in his big hand and pulled back slightly so he could look into Jett's pupils. A pair of stormy gray eyes wide, terrified and veiled in tears looked back at him.

“I got ya, little warrior. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. I have to put you down now so I can look you over, all right?”

Jett reached out to Crow’s hand and held on tight.

“Go get some ice!” Jules was suddenly beside him and shouting at a prospect.

“Mouths bleed the worst,” Jules muttered under his breath and pushed his way between Crow and the little boy. “I'm gonna look at your mouth, okay, buddy?” Jett shrunk back from the big man, but at Crow’s nod he allowed his swollen lips to be parted by Jules. With great gentleness Jules stuck his little finger in the boy's mouth and checked for loose teeth. He also carefully inspected his gums and tongue. Then he lifted Jett’s eyelids slightly and checked his pupils. The little boy’s chest continued to heave, while fat tears rolled down his face, but he didn't make a sound.

Brave kid.

“He didn't bite his tongue or slash his gums. That cut on his lip looks bad, but it's not all the way through and he's not gonna need stitches. He also doesn't have any loose teeth and didn't hit his head. A little ice on this and he's gonna be fine.” Jules looked at Crow.

“Jesus. You sure?” Crow heard his own voice crack. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah. Where’s his mother?” Jules asked.

“Million dollar damn question.” Crow scanned the area.

“Jett? Jett!” Melissa’s voice sounded out.

Crow felt relief course through his body. Words of reassurance sat ready on his lips. He knew she would be totally freaked at finding Jett hurt and bleeding. Crow fully expected Melissa to be on the verge of hysteria once the crowd cleared and she saw her son.

What he did not expect to see was Melissa being led by a big guy in uniform who was standing too fucking close to her.

Was he holding her goddamn hand?

“Oh, my god. Is he okay?” Melissa was almost out of breath from running.

Crow looked from Melissa to the guy next to her.

“Where were you?” Crow’s eyes glittered dangerously.

Melissa dropped the hand that held hers and paled when she saw Crow standing protectively over her son. Blood was everywhere

“What happened?”

“Banged his face on the steering wheel. Where were you?” Crow spat out the question again.

Someone handed an icepack to Jules, who put it against Jett's mouth. Melissa moved to the left of Crow, who hadn't budged from her son's side.

He blocked her.

“Where. The. Fuck. Were. You?” Crow ground out for the third time.

Melissa shoved her way past him with barely a look.

Crow moved aside for her. But just a little. He stiffened when he saw the asshole next to Melissa question Jules.

“You checked him for concussion?”

“Who the fuck are
you
?” Crow stepped between them and snarled.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” the officer leaned in with his shout.

The crowd hushed and the energy shifted. Jules looked from the airman to Crow, then beyond him to where several other military men stood. To the left of them stood the Hells Saints soldiers. A new kind of tension filled the air. Jules sent Crow a look that plainly said,
calm your ass down
.

Jules turned to the guy in the uniform. “Yeah, man. He’s good. Nothing serious that I can make out,” Jules told him.

“You sure? We got a guy who used to be a medic at the table today,” the airman responded.

“We got this.” Crow stiffened.

The three of them looked down at Melissa, on her knees with her arms around Jett. She was whispering low and wiping away the tears of her crying child.

“Mellie? Whatever you need,” the guy said to her.

Mellie? Fucking Mellie?
Crow’s eyes snapped to him.

“She has everything she needs right here.” Crow practically breathed fire.

Melissa ignored them both and clutched Jett closer to her, keeping him still so she could look over the damage herself. She was projecting outward calm, but Crow could see the extreme tensing of her already-set shoulders. Crow got that Jules was right, starting a brawl between the bikers and the soldiers probably wasn't the best way to handle the situation, but anger was Crow's go-to emotion.

Until just a few minutes ago.

Because when he saw Jett get hurt he hadn’t been angry, he had been…
scared?

Shit no.

Wrong word …definitely the wrong word…

He kept searching…
concerned.

Yeah, that felt better.

Crow had been
concerned-
to-shit about Jett's little face getting smashed into a steel wheel. He had been
concerned
as all fuck as to
where Melissa had been and what could have kept her away long enough for her kid to be hurt. Crow had seen men shot dead, beaten, and even tortured to death and had never raised an eyebrow. But seeing Jett hurt in front of him before he could stop it? That had just about killed him.

Now he looked down as Melissa rubbed her hand up and down Jett's chest. She held the ice pack against his mouth and spoke to him in little reassuring whispers. Melissa was telling Jett to inhale and exhale in time with the movement of her hand, but his little fingers began to claw at his neck.

“Mamma, I can’t breathe,” Jett gasped.

“Grab the inhaler out of my purse!” Melissa called out in panic.

Both Crow and Tommy went for the bag at the same time. An absurd tug of war ensued until Jules grabbed the purse from the two men.

“Have your pissing contest somewhere else. And give the kid some room,” Jules ordered. “Crow, move this crowd back unless you want to make this worse than it already is. The kid has got to have room to breathe. The place has turned into a goddamn circus.”

Crow stopped cold and looked around.

The attendant who had caused the accident was leaning over and retching. Looked like Jury had taken a parting shot to drive home his point.

Skye and Charity had gotten Rosie and the other kids out from the bumper cars. The two woman stood just a few feet away watching with wide eyes as their father unleashed his legendary temper on everyone within hearing distance. Dude looked like he was gonna kill someone.

Skye was texting wildly. Crow guessed it was to her mother, Jury’s old lady. Anger blazing like that was gonna take a woman to pour some water on, no doubt. Alison had reportedly saved Jury from committing murder more than a few times. Even so, Crow decided the asshole who caused Jett's accident should consider himself lucky, because if he had gotten to him before Jury did, Crow would have killed him.

Two overweight rent-a-cops who passed as security stood watching, flanked on both sides by Hells Saints brothers. The carnival security tea
m’
s pasty faces glistened with sweat. Their walkie-talkies hung untouched at their hips.

Closing in tight on the little circle that protected Jett were the parents who had gotten their kids off of the ride once it had stopped. Worried murmurs and curious stares fluttered through the families. Crow took a deep breath. “Prospect! Get over here and move this crowd along.”

Then Crow glared over at the airman who met his eye with a measure of calm curiosity.

“Name’s Tommy Hinks,” Tommy spoke first. “I’m a friend of Mellie’s.

“Define friend,” Crow shot back.

Jules’s head snapped around, he caught Crow’s eye. “That guy? Name I couldn’t remember?” Then Jules lifted a chin in Tommy’s direction.

Crow’s eyes narrowed and Tommy gave both men a long look.

“Look, man. You and Melissa? I think I get it. But relax. I’ve known her for a long time. Knew her husband even longer. I grew up alongside both of them, joined up alongside him and almost died there, too. That answer it?”

“Answers some of it,” Crow growled.

Crow threw Tommy one more hard glare before focusing his attention back on Melissa and Jett. It took only a few minutes more for Jett’s breathing to begin to return to normal, but to Crow those few minutes seemed like an eternity.

As Crow watched on helplessly, Melissa dispensed the medicine from the rescue inhaler in three measured puffs counting with Jett in between each dosage. Next Melissa reached into her purse for a tissue and wiped Jett's bloody chin. When Jett inhaled a long calming steady series of breaths, Melissa raised her eyes to meet Crow's.

“He’s still bleeding,” she frowned.

“Yeah. He cut his lip with his tooth. Lips bleed a lot,” Crow reassured her. “But Jules checked him out.”

Then Crow looked at Jules.

“You sure he’s not going to need stitches, right?”

“No. He'll be okay. Just keep that ice against it,” Jules said. “It might take up to about fifteen minutes to stop the flow. Might take more. I know you want to keep checking on it, but you'll have to keep the pressure on."

“Thank you for helping him,” Melissa said to Jules.

Jules nodded.

Then Melissa turned to Tommy. “I want the medic to look at Jett,” she said to him.

“Sure. I’ll take you to him right now,” Tommy replied.

Melissa gave Jules another quick look. “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment…” Her voice trailed off.

“No worries. My kid? I'd do the same. Shit, if you want, I'll come with and talk to the medic myself. Two heads and all that shit.” Jules gave her a wry smile.

Melissa flashed him a quick look of thanks.

“Crow, will you carry Jett? I think you'll be able to move quicker through the …” Melissa began to ask, but stopped when she realized that Crow had already started to fold Jett into his arms.