Loving Crow (Unsaintly Kings MC Book 1) Read online

  Loving Crow

  Unsaintly kings Mc: book 1

  A. Lynn

  For Alma – My heart, Liv – My reason, and

  Sasha A—I couldn’t have done it without you!

  ** DISCLAIMER**

  This book is on the darker side and intended for mature readers.

  All characters and events in this book are completely fictitious and in no way a representation of actual people or situations.

  Synopsis

  “This shit feels toxic.”

  “We’re not toxic, baby. We’re fierce.”

  For the last few years, Reagan has thrown herself to school and raising a son with her roommate, Ryan. She has little desire for more outside of that since her last relationship crashed and burned, all because her boyfriend couldn’t keep his d**k in his pants.

  When she lands her dream job at the most premiere salon in the area, she goes out to celebrate with her roommate at their favorite night club, Fallen. Little did she know that her life was about to take long walk off a short pier, and it all begins when she meets a sexy AF man with the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. But it’s for not.

  Their second meeting brings a ray of hope to a recently dark time. She sees potential in the sexy as sin biker who calls himself Crow. Fingers crossed that he can help her rise from the funk that is her reality. Lord knows nothing else is helping.

  This is an insta-love type of MC romance, between an alpha male and a woman with a tongue as sharp as glass. It’s very fast paced and dramatically delicious, with some dark themes. If you have sexual triggers, be warned, there are some intense scenes.

  Happy reading!

  Unsaintly Kings

  Officers

  Co-Founder(previous Prez): Collin “Trigger” MacDonald

  Old Lady: Clara MacDonald

  Co-Founder(previous VP): Patrick “Gauge” Keys

  Old Lady: Emma/Em Keys

  Prez: Brandon “Gunner” MacDonald

  VP: Axle “Axle” Keys

  Secretary: Michael “Tex” Lee

  Treasurer: Eli “Smoke” Wilson

  Road Captain #1: Isaac “Crow” Greene Jr.

  Road Captain #2: Mason “Mase” Clark

  Sergeant at Arms (SAA): Drake “Smooth” Turner

  Enforcer: Rhys “Rhys” Evans

  Tech: Jasper “Einstein” Craig

  Prospect Manager: Noah “Hollywood” Carter

  Old Lady: Marley Carter

  MembersProspects

  Richard “Doc” HowardKillian “Killy” O’Brien

  Old Lady: Trish HowardDiego “Dub” Sanchez

  Levi “Shadow” HowardQuinn “Lucky” Alvarez

  Isaac “Colt” Greene SrJosh “Motherfucker” Jones **(Reagan calls him JJ)

  Old Lady: Estella/Stella Greene

  Declan “Dec” Greene

  Alex “Capone” Lopez

  Carl “Juice” Carter

  David “Jagger” Williams

  Credence “Creed” Monroe

  Cash “Cash” Mitchell

  Liam “Horse” Harris

  Desmond “Unit” Adams

  Bobby “Bob” Lewis

  Ethan “Easy” Jackson

  Ellery “Ghost” Jackson

  Matthew “Rock” Ballard

  Timmy “Moose” Mudd

  Anthony “Bane” Garcia

  Shane “Peezy” Ballinger

  Chapter 1

  Reagan

  Where is my phone? How can I hear it ringing but no idea where the noise is coming from? Great, I missed the call but—lucky me—it starts ringing again. An indicator of sorts telling me it's one of two possible people: the first one being my biffle, Ryan Walker, and the second being her adorable three-year-old son—who happens to be my adopted son—Jordan. Makes me feel a little less frazzled in my search as my phone stops ringing for the second time. Though I don’t know why they would be calling, they should be home anytime now. Ryan only ran out to pick Jordan up from preschool.

  “UGH! Where is it?!” I huff out into the room as I grab my purse off the table and go to dump it out on the couch, but surprise, I manage to miss said couch and half of the contents end up on the floor. It's not here, but I'm not shocked or anything because it wasn't here the previous two times I looked either. Only now I have a mess to clean up. Kneeling on the floor to make sure I don't leave anything out, I look under the couch, and low and behold—it's the elusive cell phone. How it got under there is anyone's guess. It was in my purse the last time I saw it.

  I grab my phone, intending to call Ryan and Jordan back but when I go to my call log, it is a number that is not saved in my phone. I don’t get many calls outside of Ryan and a few friends I met while getting my cosmetology credentials from Empire Beauty School in Phoenix, but all of those numbers are saved contacts. My thumb hovers over the little green phone in apprehension, and I am daring myself to push it. My throat gets thick and needles prick at my nose at the memory the unsaved number throws me into.

  Ryan’s belly has grown so much from the last appointment a month ago. She’s about twenty-one weeks pregnant and starting to get a little pouch, definitely no denying it now. The doctor should be able to tell us the sex today. We are so excited! Ryan refuses to tell me who the father is but I guess that's her prerogative. All that she will say on the matter is that he wants nothing to do with it and will not help in the rearing at all. Nothing more than a sperm donor. So with my Grams’ very vocal disappointment, Ryan and I decided to raise the baby together. She’s been my biffle since elementary school, what else would I do? I hope she comes around to the situation.

  Dr. Brooks comes in pulling me from my head. “Hello, ladies! How are we doing today?”

  “Good,” we say in unison and promptly breaking into giggle fits.

  “Are we wanting to know the sex of this little one today?” Dr. Brooks asks as she squeezes the jelly on Ryan’s belly and begins pushing the transducer.

  “Yes ma’am,” Ryan says.

  “Ma’am?” She asks, “What’s up with that?”

  Ryan giggles and shrugs, “Professionalism?”

  “Girl, call me Wendy.” Dr. Brooks—I mean Wendy—looks at the screens and asks again if we are sure we want to know the sex. At our excited smiles and damn near violent nods, she laughs and says, “Congratulations, ladies! Looks like we are going to be having a boy!”

  A BOY!

  Ryan looks at me with tears in her eyes and a look of wonder that says “my life is complete.”

  Just as I open my mouth to utter this baby boy’s name, my cell begins to ring. I don’t know the number so I silence the call. It begins to ring again about a minute later. I excuse myself and step out into the hall.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, I’m trying to reach Reagan Marks,” the caller says.

  “Yes, this is Reagan.”

  “My name is Skylar Greene and I am a nurse at Wickenburg Regional Hospital. Your Grandmother was brought in this afternoon and… and Dr. Jacobi would like to speak with you."

  “Is she okay?”

  “I’m sorry Ms. Marks, but I am not allowed to share information of any kind over the phone. It has to be in person. HIPPA laws and all that,” the nurse says.

  “Okay, I’m on my way,” I say in a breathless whisper.

  “Good. When you get to the ER just ask for me and I will be right out to get you. See you soon.” I think I said ‘okay’ but I can’t swear to it.

  I stumble back into Ryan’s room and when we make eye contact, she blanches and rushes to me.

  “Rea… Rea, what is it? Who was on the phone?” She asks with a tremble in her voice.

  “We got to go.
That was the hospital saying that Grams was brought in earlier today.”

  “Oh, my gosh, Rea! Is she okay?”

  “The nurse—Skylar—said she wasn’t permitted to tell me over the phone. The only thing she could tell me was that Dr. Jacobi wants me to come in for an in-person conversation." I say as a tear escapes down my cheek.

  “Let’s go,” she says as she threads her arm through mine.

  When we get to the hospital, Skylar shows us to an office type of room. We sit there for about thirty minutes or so before Dr. Jacobi comes in and informs us that Grams has had a massive heart attack. A heart attack they were unable to revive her from. He said that she was reported as just exiting Target when multiple people said that she just took a labored breath and dropped to the parking lot. Said it was safe to assume that she was gone before she hit the pavement.

  When they brought her personal effects to me, it broke something deep inside me to see that it was a fleece blanket and two onesies that proclaimed “My Grams Loves Me More” and “Where’s the Party? At Grams House.” My Grams had come around, but now she was gone...

  The shrill ringing of my cell draws me from within myself. Glancing at the screen of my phone, I say that it was the same number from a few minutes ago. So before I could psych myself out, I quickly slid the green phone icon across and whispered, “Hello?”

  “Hi, I am looking for Reagan Marks,” said a chipper female voice.

  “That’s me. What can I do for you?”

  “Oh, good! My name is Stella Greene and I am one of the owner-operators at Infinite Salon and Spa."

  That one sentence silenced any anxiety I was having and replaced it with excitement causing me to say, "no shit?!" Immediately followed by an embarrassment that led to self-chastisement. I thought about ending the call right then, but then I heard her chuckle.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Girl, I have a mouth that would give a sailor a run for their money.”

  “Still it was unprofessional, especially when I have dreamed of working at your salon since I was in high school. It is the best around,” I say like she doesn’t already know. I pinch the bridge of my nose while telling myself to shut the hell up. Nervous talker? Oh yeah, that’s me… verbal diarrhea all over the floor.

  “No worries," she says with a laugh. “The reason I am calling is because I have some positions open and need to fill. Your resume happened to still be in my incoming mailbox so I checked your references and thought I should reach out to you as soon as possible. When can you come in for an interview?”

  “Is tomorrow too soon?” I ask.

  Stella was quiet for a minute before she answered, “I have to do a perm in the morning but that should be done by two o’clock. As of right now, my afternoon is open. Could you be here by three?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I look forward to it,” I reply.

  “Reagan?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Just Stella. Never ma’am… like, ever.” Stella said with a touch of frost in her tone causing me to hesitate for a second.

  “Oh, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Stella,” I say as I hang up and do an epic spaz-tastic happy dance.

  “Moma, what Wea doing’?” Jordan asks Ryan.

  I smile and turn to see him standing in the entry of the living room next to Ryan. She has a look on her face that is equal parts giddiness and exhaustion. How that is possible, I have no idea. She’s not been herself lately and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve tried talking to her to no avail. She shuts me down every time… when she is ready, she’ll come to me.

  “Looks like she is dancing, Jordan.”

  “I’s dunno, Moma. It wooks wike she huwts. Wea? You’s huwtin’?”

  “No, sweet boy, I’m happy because I just got an interview for a job I was really wanting!”

  “You’s did? Yay, Wea!” He shrieks and lunges for me.

  “I’m so excited, that we should go out and celebrate!” I try to make eye contact with her to see what she wants to do, but she stares at the floor like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Where should we go?”

  Jordan screams, “peeta” at the same time Ryan says “Chinese.”

  Jordan pulls a face at his mom and groans, “No, eww! Dats yucky!” I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my laugh from escaping. This kid—he is something else.

  “Jordan Eric, you like their chicken and red sauce,” Ryan chastises him.

  “Wike,” he mumbles. “I’s woves peeta.”

  “I really don’t care where you eat. I’m going to stay here and chill out.”

  “What? Come with us!”

  “Not tonight,” she says.

  “Why not?”

  “Jesus, Reagan. I didn’t sleep well last night and it’s made for a shitty day. Is that all right with you?”

  “Fine Ryan, do whatever you want. But you don’t have to be a bitch about it,” I retort.

  She shrugs.

  I look at Jordan and say, “How about we go to Chuck E. Cheese?”

  He shrieks, “Yes!”

  I stretch out my hand, “Well, let’s blow this popsicle stand, then!”

  He slips his hand in mine and giggles. “You’s funny.”

  The next afternoon…

  Staring at the clock on the wall and wishing for the time to speed up, I take a drink of my coffee, yet again, disappointed to see that it is only 2:15. I am not sure what possessed me to leave the house an hour and a half early, it is only a fifteen-minute drive. Nervous energy caused me to head out early. I couldn't stay in the house for one more minute. I was practically climbing the walls. Which is most likely due to the two cups of coffee this morning, and that is why the hot tea I am having right now is decaf.

  Another glance at the clock reveals that only five minutes have passed. I'm starting to think that maybe the clock’s not keeping the correct time. Perhaps I should let them know, be a good customer, or something? But when I look at my phone it would appear that the clock on the wall is actually a few minutes fast. UGH!

  My phone rings and I answer immediately without looking, “Hey Ry… what’s up, babe?”

  “Hello? This is Stella Greene, I’m looking for Reagan Marks?”

  “Oh, hi! This is Reagan. Sorry, I thought you were my roommate.”

  “No worries. I finished my appointment early and was wondering if you would be able to come in early?”

  “Absolutely. I am at Perks, I can be there in a few minutes."

  “Would you mind, at all, to bring me a large mocha latte? I would be forever in your debt,” she says with laughter and a little hope in her voice.

  “Sure.”

  “You're a lifesaver!"

  Less than ten minutes later I am walking through the door prompting a very chipper voice to say, “Welcome to Infinite Salon and Spa, how can I help you?”

  “Thanks, I have an appointment with Stella,” I say.

  Looking at the computer and then back at me, she says, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Stella doesn’t have any appointments this afternoon. Are you sure it was Stella? Could it be with Janey or Tiffany? Maybe Lynna?”

  Smiling I say, “Sorry, That was poor word choice on my part, I meant I have an interview with Stella this afternoon. My name is Reagan Marks.”

  “That’s okay. I will let Stella know that you’re here.”

  “Thanks,” I say walking over to the nail polish wall and browsing to kill time while I wait for Stella. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long.

  “Reagan?” I turn at the sound of Stella’s voice to see her extending her hand in greeting. “I’m Stella.”

  I hand over her coffee so that I can grasp her hand. “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Thanks for the coffee, I have some cash in the office, if you’ll follow me.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say.

  “Aren’t you sweet? Bringing me my life source and not accepting my money… score!” She starts laughing and
it is infectious, so I giggle myself. “I will do introductions with the rest of the staff on the way to the office.”

  “Sounds good,” I reply.

  Extending a hand in the direction of the front desk towards the bleached blonde girl I spoke to just a bit ago, Stella says, "This is Lexi. She handles appointments and check-ins. She also does the laundry and cleanup. You are still expected to sweep up hair clippings—most times she does that, too, if we are busy, but it is not in her job requirements."

  “Nice to meet you, Lexi,” I say with a smile.

  “You, too.”

  Walking toward a row of pedicure chairs that have manicure table attachments, Stella says, “And over here in the nails section we have Cleo, Carla, Jess, and Pam. Girls, this is Reagan."

  “Nice to meet you all.”

  “Likewise,” says an olive-skinned beauty with the purest icy blue eyes I have ever seen. “I’m Cleo.”

  “Carla,” comes from a redhead.

  “Pam,” she says with a nod.

  “I’m Jess,” says the last girl.

  Considering that these girls—Lexi, Pam, and Jess—work in a salon, I would think they would have better dye jobs than they do. Though, I suspect Pam’s blond is natural.

  “Now in the hair section—our section—we have Tiffany, Lynna, and Janey. Ladies, this is Reagan," Stella says. "And this fabulous specimen is Blake, our resident barber.”

  “Hey, honey,” he says.

  “Hi,” I say with a smile.

  “I’m Tiffany, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “You, too! I love your hair, hot pink is definitely your color!”

  “Thanks, girl!”

  “Hey, Reagan, I’m Janey. Good to meet you.”

  “Likewise," I say to the girl with the pixie cut. "I guess that makes you Lynna," I say with a smile and turning to the third girl in the section.

  “Yup! That’s me!” she says giggling.

  “Lynna is a new hire as well. She started with us last week.” Turning to the opposite wall, Stella says, “This area is where our styling, blowouts, and makeup are done. There are normally two more stylists for this section, but we had four girls up and quit over the last two weeks; however, more interviews are coming in tomorrow and the day after.”