8-Crow
1027 Words
Crow's gaze searched my face for a moment before he nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, then. Welcome to the family, Ocean."
The words sent a shiver down my spine. I had no idea what I was getting into, but I knew one thing for sure—I was going to fight for Leo with every breath in my body. And if that meant dancing with the devil, then that’s the way it would be. Nothing was off the table when it came to my little brother.
With those thoughts in mind, Rouger's boisterous laughter filled the air, snapping me back to the present, and we pulled apart. Crow's hand lingered on my cheek for a second longer, before he cleared his throat and turned back to his drink.
The rest of the night passed as we danced around a newfound tension, neither of us quite ready to address what was happening between us, head-on.
SIX MONTHS LATER
You’re late,” Crow growled, his eyes focused on inventorying the whiskey bottles in front of him. But I could see even around his smooth action, there was an underlying tension.
As I stuffed my purse under the counter, unsure of his mood, I gave an inward shrug. Might as well face the bear head on I decided, and see what way the wind was blowing. Either it was going to be a good day, or a bad one. “Yeah, sorry about that,” I returned. “Traffic was a b***h,” I murmured, as I wrapped my apron around my waist and began setting up the counter.
As the hours passed the bar went on as usual—bikes roared in and out, pool balls clacked, and the jukebox played its endless loop of classic rock. But the electricity between Crow and myself was a silent dance that had the entire bar buzzing with unspoken tension. Crow was all business, barking orders and keeping an eye on the clock, as if the simple act of ignoring what had transpired would make it dissipate into the smoky air.
Mel shot me knowing looks throughout the day, a silent question in her eyes. I returned her gazes with a shrug, unsure of what to make of Crow's sudden detachment. Maybe it was for the best. After all, we were in the middle of a gang war, and the last thing we needed was a romantic entanglement complicating things further.
But every time Crow's hand brushed against mine as we worked the bar, or when his eyes lingered just a fraction of a second longer than necessary, the memory of our kiss would come rushing back. It was a current that neither of us could ignore, pulling us together despite our best efforts to resist.
As the night grew late and the regulars stumbled home, I found myself leaning against the counter, watching him. His eyes met mine, and for a brief second, the dam broke. The wall of indifference crumbled, revealing the raw emotion beneath. But just as quickly, it was back up, the mask of the gang leader firmly in place.
"You okay?" Mel asked, coming up beside me, her voice low.
I nodded, though my insides felt anything but okay. "Yeah, just...thinking."
"It's going to be fine," she said, her voice soothing. "Dad's just...processing."
"Processing what?" I asked, trying to keep the hope out of my tone.
"Everything," she replied with a sigh. "The war, Leo, you...us."
The weight of her words settled on my shoulders like a heavy blanket. We were all just trying to navigate the stormy waters of our lives, hoping to find a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. But as the bar grew quieter, and the neon lights flickered in the early morning darkness, I couldn't shake the feeling that the calm before the storm was about to end.
The next few days passed in a blur of tension and unspoken longing. Crow remained distant, his eyes avoiding mine whenever possible. I threw myself into work, focusing on keeping Leo's spirits up and learning the ropes of the bar. The Riders came and went, their whispers about the Serpents growing more urgent with each passing day.
One evening, as I was wiping down the bar, Rouger approached me, his expression serious. "We need to talk."
I nodded, my stomach flipping at his tone. He led me to a quieter corner, his eyes darting around the room to ensure privacy. "The Serpents are getting bold. They're making moves, and Crow's worried."
"What kind of moves?" I asked, my heart racing.
"Territorial s**t," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But we can't ignore it. They're testing us."
"And what does that mean?" I asked, my voice steady despite the fear that threatened to overwhelm me.
He looked at me, his gaze softening. "It means you need to be careful. You're a target now, with your connection to Phoenix and all."
I nodded, swallowing hard. "I can handle it."
Peering at me a few seconds, he simply stated, "I sure hope so. For all our sake."
The gravity of his words settled over me like a cold fog. I was no longer just a bartender at a rough bar—I was a player in a deadly game, one that had been in play for years before I'd even set foot on this turf.
But as I wiped the last of the condensation from my glass, I realized that this was my life now. A world of leather, engines, and secrets. And whether I liked it or not, I was falling deeper into the rabbit hole, drawn by the promise of saving Leo and the allure of a man who was as dangerous as he was tempting.
The music grew louder as the night went on, the pulse of the bar a constant reminder of the passion that had ignited between Crow and myself. The air was thick with it, a seductive haze that danced around the edges of our interactions. We were two magnets, forever drawn together but never quite allowed to touch.
- Writer
