Read Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) for Free Online Page B

had he become such a twisted asshole?
    No more playing cat and mouse with Melissa Raymoor.
    Yeah. Good luck telling that to his dick.
    When Crow felt the bike fish-tail on a sandy patch of road, he realized that he was at full throttle. He knew that he better slow his ass down and forget about the events of the last couple of days if he was going to get to the clubhouse in one piece.
    Feeling that, he took a deep breath, leaned back and began to enjoy the view along the coastal highway. Crow had always liked the clubhouse in Fairview. He had spent some time there when he was building the house in Havengate. If things had worked out between him and Jaci, this would have been his home base club and Jury would have been his president.
    Jury was Prosper’s age, which put him in his early sixties—one of the seven original members. In Crow's opinion, he was also one of the most dangerous ones. A smart, ruthless fucker with a whole boatload of junkyard-dog-crazy just lurking below the surface. Crow had thought more than once that the only thing that stood between Jury and a maximum security prison cell was his woman. Jury and Alison had been together forever and it was no secret that she kept him in line.
    Crow pulled into the narrow dirt road that led to the small compound. He backed his bike beside the line of Harleys, lit up a smoke, walked over to the edge of the cliff and took in the view.
    He was not surprised when he felt a hand land hard on his shoulder.
    “Went out to take a piss the other night and almost fell off the edge right where you’re standing,” said a low gravelly voice.
    “No shit?” Crow turned and grinned at the man standing next to him.
    “No shit.” Jury grinned back. “Doc says I got vertigo. Makes me dizzier than hell sometimes. Booze don’t help. Sucks getting old.”
    “Wouldn’t know since I’m still in the prime of my goddamn youth.” Crow smirked.
    “No one’s as young as they used to be, Brother. But I see you’re still a cocky bastard. Just like your prez. How’s the old fucker doing? I told him to get his ass out here, but he said you’d be representing.” Jury brought a flask to his mouth, took a long pull and threw Crow a speculative look. “Thought Prosper would want to make the trip himself to get a feel where the brothers stand on the Aces-Olcas situation. It’s starting to look like the club is going to have to decide whether to back black or brown real soon. Could be looking at a turf war. And if that happens the Saints are gonna be right smack in the middle of it.”
    “Prosper’s aware.” Crow assured him. “He’s been reaching out to his contacts in law enforcement trying to get a handle on who’s hotter on the Feds’ radar. Nobody wants them breathing down our necks ‘cause we bet on the wrong horse. Boss told me to tell you he’ll reach out in the next week or so. In the meantime, he wants you to get a read on what’s going on in Miami with Derringer. And he wants to know who Beast’s considering for VP in the Keys while Romeo does his time.”
    “Why’s Prosper give a fuck about Beast’s VP? Seems like that should be Beast’s business.” Jury shot out. “This over-stepping shit, even coming from the boss, won’t go down easy with the boys.”
    “Well, then you tell the boys to relax,” Crow answered calmly. “Prosper just wants to make sure the club is all buttoned up before we get into it. That’s all that is. You know the drill.”
    Jury did not seem convinced so Crow continued.
    “With you and me here to mind the store, Prosper figured his time could be better spent tightening shit up. But you think he needs to be here, just say the word,” Crow added diplomatically.
    Jury seemed to relax then. “Nah. I’m good with you carrying his proxy.”
    “Appreciate the confidence, Brother. Where we stand with a time frame?” Crow adopted a business tone.
    “Waiting for my man to report in and giving him the time he needs to do that. It’s