Crow: Soulless Bastards MC So Cal

  CROW

  Soulless Bastards MC

  So Cal

  Crow

  Soulless Bastards MC

  So Cal

  By Erin Trejo

  Edited by: Elfwerks Editing

  Proofreader: Chriss Prokic

  Cover Design: Nicole Blanchard with IndieSage PR

  Cover Model: Dean McCudden

  All rights reserved. Copyright 2018@erintrejo

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the permission of the author, which is a violation of the International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real except where noted and authorized. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Contents

  A special thank you!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  A special thank you!

  Without my amazing readers I would be nothing. You guys mean the world to me. I just wanted to let you know that. I know I don’t always add things in the front of my books like I should but I love you guys!!!

  The super special thank you goes to Bink Cummings. There was an integral part of this book that was just killing me. I couldn’t figure out what was off about it. So, I asked her and she hooked a bitch up! LOL Bink, I can’t thank you enough for helping me out with that part. It means the world to me that you would even help me! You rock! If you haven’t checked out Bink’s books, you are missing out!

  I also need to shout out to Dean McCudden for allowing me to use the most amazing photo of him as the cover for Crow. I think it captures his character perfectly! You rock, Dean!
  Chapter 1

  Four minutes. Four painstaking minutes of my life. It sounds like nothing. To some, it may be, but for me four minutes was all it took to ruin my life. That’s all it took to steal the breath from my body.

  I shake my head as I sit in the darkness of the warehouse, a bottle of whiskey in my hand. Tears prickle my eyes, the gun rests heavily and tauntingly in my other hand. But that’s not what holds my interests. It’s the girl. She sits in the middle of the room, not far from me. She can’t see me in the shadows. She can’t see the monster that sits only a few feet away from her. She takes a long pull from the bottle she has in her hand. The moonlight filtering in through the busted window casting shadows over her face. She holds a razor blade in her hand. She twists and turns it, watching the blade flicker with the light.

  “You’re too fat,” she says to herself, sliding the blade along the skin on her arm. I watch as if I’m in a trance, not wanting to break her moment. “You’re disgusting. You’re ugly. You aren’t worth anything. Why can’t you be normal? Why do you have to be you?” Words leave her mouth and with each one, she drags the blade over a new spot on her arm until it’s completely covered in her blood. I chuckle lightly, startling her. She looks up, her eyes trying to pick me out of the darkness.

  “Wrist to elbow,” I finally say. The girl scrambles back, her blade falling to the dirty floor. I scoot out of my spot in the corner and sit my gun on the ground next to me. Her eyes follow my movements but she doesn’t say a word. I pick up the blade and hold it in my fingers, her blood now coating my skin and say, “Wrist to elbow.” I drag the blade over my skin to demonstrate for her but not enough to draw blood.

  “Who are you?” she asks, scooting closer to me. I watch her as she moves, cocking my head to the side. She isn’t afraid of me or maybe she’s too drunk to give a damn.

  “Crow,” is all I say.

  She looks at the gun and the bottle of whiskey before she moves even closer. “Same idea?” she asks, nodding toward the gun.

  My eyes still feel heavy and my brain is not functioning right. I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore. “Depends. What are you doin’?” I ask her.

  When she scoots into the light once more, I see her. It’s not her size that calls to me, it’s her eyes and those fucking pouty lips. She’s bigger than girls I’ve messed with. I can see the slight bulge that is her body as she sits there. None of that means shit to me. She shifts uncomfortably as I take her in.

  “You ever hate your life so much that you want it to end, Crow?” she asks, pain lacing her voice. I nod my head.

  “Every day. Every day of my life,” I say truthfully as I pass the blade to her and pick up the gun. I scratch the side of my head with it as memories assault me. Those eyes. That smile. It’s all more than any one man should have to bear in his lifetime.

  “It’ll make it all go away. All the pain. All the names. Everything,” she says, pulling my attention back to her. I cock my head and look at her eyes. The key to the soul is always the eyes. Most don’t look. Most just think they know a person and know what they feel but they don’t. When you look into their eyes, you will see it. You will see all the pain and torment that they have faced. Her gaze slowly slides to the floor in front of us.

  “Does it, though? Will it ever go away? Can it?” I ask her.

  She looks up, her eyes finding mine in the moonlight. She’s gorgeous. She’s beautiful. Her life has to have some kind of meaning to it.

  “Yeah. It does. When we can’t feel anymore. When we can’t be hurt anymore. It does,” she says softly. I take another pull as I let that sink in.

  “Do you know how long it takes someone to die by strangulation?” I ask, my voice catching.

  “No.”

  “Up to one minute. One minute, yeah?” I ask.

  She looks at me strangely before she asks, “Who was it?” I shake my head not wanting to answer that.

  “That motherfucker who did it took four. Four minutes.” I nod as my eyes fill further with unshed tears. “Can you even imagine bein’ so close to death only to be pulled back and start all over again?” My voice is hoarse as the tears finally fall. I don’t give a shit. She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t see the real me. So, I let them fall.

  “That had to be horrible,” she says softly. Her hand comes to mine, her fingers curling around it. I stare at our intertwined hands. A woman I don’t even know trying to comfort me. What a fucking joke.

  “Yeah, well.” I sniff as I pull my hand free and wipe my face. “What are you doin’ here?” I ask her.

  “I’m tired of being told I’m not go
od enough. I’m tired of being told that I’m too fat to find love. I’m too ugly to get a man. Do you know what it feels like to hear those words every day of your life?” she asks then looks at me again. “Of course, you wouldn’t,” she says after taking me in.

  “Don’t do that. You don’t know me,” I snap at her. She laughs and it’s the most beautiful yet horrifying sound I’ve ever heard.

  “You don’t look like me! Look at you!” She waves her hand up and down to make her point. “I’m still a virgin! I’m freaking twenty-two and still a virgin. Do you know why?” She leans closer, looking me in the eye. She’s clearly drunk but so the fuck am I.

  “No.”

  “Because I’m too fat to be fucked! I’ve heard it. Over and over. Maybe if you lose some weight you could find a man. Molested? Oh, I’ve been that. I was good enough for that, but to actually have a man? A real man who wanted me? Nope. Never.” The tears that clogged her throat now roll down her cheeks as I set my bottle on the ground next to me. I shove the gun up next to it before I move.

  Chapter 2

  I squat in front of her, our eyes staying glued to each other. There it is. The hesitation that I knew would be there. She’s afraid of me, of what I might do to her.

  “There are many things I’ve learned over my lifetime. People are nothin’. In the end, they mean nothin’. No one can tell you what you are except you. You’re beautiful. If they couldn’t see that, that’s their problem, darlin’ not yours. Don’t let some bastard tell you you aren’t good enough.” She stares into my eyes and I want to reach out and comfort her but who the fuck am I? I’m no better than the motherfuckers I’m telling her about. In fact, I may just be worse.

  “Look at you. You wouldn’t understand. People like you walk around with their perfect bodies and have shit handed to them. People like me are the ones in the corners cowering in fear of others. Always the outsiders. Always the weird or disgusting ones. You wouldn’t know shit.” Her voice drops as she looks down at her blade. I reach for it, taking it between my fingers. I flip it around a few times before I reach for her arm. She doesn’t stop me and it makes me wonder why. Why let someone you don’t even know touch you like this? Why let them hold your life in their hands?

  “When you close your eyes, you feel it. You feel what others can do to you. Whether you let them or not,” I tell her. I press the blade against her skin before looking into her eyes. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.” Much to my surprise, she does it. Her blue eyes slowly fall closed, her wet lashes brushing against her cheeks. I look back at my hand, the one with the blade before slowly dragging it over her skin. The blood rushes to the surface, but what hypnotizes me? She gasped. Not a scared or a hurt gasp. A sexual gasp. She likes the pain.

  I look at the blood as it flows from her skin, wondering what’s running through her head but at the same time not caring. I came here to finish my life. I came here to make the nightmares stop. It’s been six years. Six of the most haunted years of my life and I just want it to go away. When I hear her suck in a breath, I raise my eyes and meet her gaze.

  “Wrist to elbow.” She mimics my words. I grin a small but sad grin at her and shake my head.

  “Your life isn’t mine, darlin’. It isn’t my place to take it.” As the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve done worse things in the past. I’ve killed, I’ve taken lives that weren’t mine, but she’s different. Hers is different. She licks her lips as I watch her. Leaning forward, she stalls right in front of me. Her lips are a few inches from mine. I see the look in her eyes.

  “You don’t wanna lose it to me,” I tell her watching the flicker of a blaze burn inside of her.

  “What difference does it make if this is it for both of us?” she asks. I smell the alcohol on her breath. Something about the way she looks at me pulls at my insides.

  “Are you really gonna do it? Don’t you think there has to be somethin’ else out there for you?” I ask her.

  When the blaze slowly leaves her gaze, she pulls back a little and says, “I get it. I’m too fat.”

  The air thickens between us. The room seems to close in. She can’t be serious, but the more I look at her, the more I can see she is. I lean closer, grabbing her around the back of her neck, pulling her face back to mine.

  “You’re perfect. There is nothin’ about you that’s fat or ugly. You are you.” I touch my lips to hers softly and she sighs, opening up to me. I kiss her gently at first, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Being gentle isn’t in my nature, yet for this girl, I’m doing it. Maybe it’s the part of me that wants to help someone. Maybe it’s the part that doesn’t want to see her kill herself although I shouldn’t give a damn seeing how I’m going to end my own life. I break our heated kiss long enough to pull my head back and look her in the eyes.

  “I’m nobody to give it to,” I tell her.

  “You’re somebody. You just don’t see it in yourself,” she says softly. Her words wrap around my heart and squeeze. I used to think I was somebody. I was until that night. “Please,” she says so softly, I barely heard her.

  I nod my head before I stand up. She watches me intently as I slide my cut down my arms before removing my shirt. Her eyes trail a line of fire over my chest before biting her lip. I grab a condom out of my back pocket before my boots are kicked to the side, jeans and boxers following. She watches me as I stroke myself, sliding the condom down my length.

  “Can’t do anything with your clothes on.” I give her a sad smile. She hesitates. I climb onto the dirty floor on my knees in front of her. I reach for her shirt but she shakes her head no. I let her have that. It’s her security and I won’t take that away. I push her back onto her back and grab the front of her jeans, yanking them and her panties off with her shoes. She watches me but doesn’t say a word as I climb between her thighs.

  “Change your mind.” I almost beg her. I don’t want her first time to be like this. She deserves more than getting fucked on a dirty warehouse floor.

  “No.”

  I slide a hand between her legs and watch as her eyes fall closed. Dragging my finger through her wetness, I’m surprised. She’s this fucking wet for me? She doesn’t know me. I hadn’t touched her until just now. I grab my dick and tease her a little before pushing in. Her hands fly to my arms, gripping them. Her nails dig into my skin as I push through the barrier keeping us apart. I look down and watch the tears fall from her eyes.

  “Look at me,” I demand her. Her eyes open and those seas of blue lock on me. “It won’t take away the pain.” She nods her head slowly understanding what I mean.

  I rock into her and moan at the feeling. I don’t give a shit what anyone said to her. She’s perfect. She’s gorgeous. And for this moment, she’s mine. I thrust a little harder as emotions run wild inside of me. That smile. Those eyes. The way they looked at me and pleaded with me to help when I was helpless myself. Sobs choke me as I fuck this poor girl roughly. All of it is too consuming. I’m drowning in my past and the feel of her beneath me. Her cries fall on deaf ears as the world around fades. When I finish and come inside of her, I pull out quickly and drop to the ground next to her. I can hear her sniffle but she doesn’t move to get up.

  “Are you still gonna do it?” I ask her knowing she knows what the question means.

  “Are you?”

  “Sleep on it, darlin’. You might feel different tomorrow, yeah?” The silence between us is almost eerie. We both lie here catching our breath but different things running around inside of us.

  After what seems like forever she says, “Crow?”

  “Yeah, darlin’?”

  “Will you stay with me?”

  Her words throw me off. I hadn’t planned on living past midnight, but something deep inside of me says to do it, if only for her.

  “Yeah, I will. Come here.” I glance over but she doesn’t move. “I wanna hold you,” I tell her.

  She turns her head and looks at me a second before scooting across the dirty floor. I reach m
y arm out and wrap it around her, pulling her head to my chest. I take a deep breath and sigh before I say, “Sleep now, beautiful. Tomorrow brings new light.” She sighs and snuggles up against me. I lie there until I hear her breathing even out. Then I slowly fall asleep myself.

  Chapter 3

  I wake up to my back screaming in pain. When my head starts to pound I remember what I did last night. I glance down and the girl is already gone. I didn’t even ask her name. Shaking my head, I think of what fucked up piece of shit I am. The funny thing is, she covered me with my own shirt. It’s draped over my chest like a blanket. I should be thankful that she didn’t decide to kill herself last night. I should be thankful that I didn’t but I’m not.

  Shoving myself up, I dress quickly as I take in the mess we made last night. Blood stains the dirty floor, but no one will ever know what it’s from. This is one of the club’s warehouses. We don’t use it anymore. I’m probably the only one that ever sets foot in it. I stretch my back out as I walk out of the door and into the sunlight.

  “Fuck,” I mumble as I make my way to my bike. I dig through my saddle bag and pull out my cell, noticing I have a shit ton of missed calls and messages. I don’t give a damn about those right now. I need a shower and a shave. I feel like I was hit by a goddamn bus and the smell of that girl still lingers on my skin. It’s not a bad smell to have either. I shake my head knowing what I took from her last night. I shouldn’t have done it, but in my drunken moment, I didn’t want to see her hurting. It was overwhelming. If I could make her feel better even for a night, I wanted to fucking do it. I don’t know where that part of me came from, but it felt good at the moment. Now I feel like a piece of shit for fucking her senseless and not asking her damn name. I’m sure she’ll forget about me just the same as I will her. We will both go on with our daily shit lives and nothing about last night will even matter.

  Grabbing my helmet, I throw it on before climbing on my bike. The guys knew what was happening last night. They knew I was off. I’m sure they are all wondering where the fuck I am or if I really killed myself this time. I rev up my bike and take off.