Crooked Crows: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Gang Romance (Boys of Briar Hall Book 1)
Crooked Crows: Chapter 18

“What do you think he wants?” Grey asked as we made our way into Sanctum.

“He has a job for us,” I muttered, holding the heavy door open for my brothers, allowing classic rock music to spill out onto the midnight street. I didn’t know for certain, but that was usually the reason Diesel asked to meet us here. He had something for us that he didn’t want to take to the table. Something unofficial. Usually.

The bar at the edge of town was one owned by the Saints. Complete with an illegal boxing ring in the basement and a fully functional escort service running out of the two upper levels. Top tier. Two-dollar hookers weren’t welcome in our city. Only the finest for Thorn Valley’s privileged upper-class.

The boxing ring had been Rook’s idea.

The escort service had been mine.

And with Grey helping run the books, the money was cleaner than it’d ever been.

Sanctum brought in a good chunk of the gang’s income and helped tide us over when things got tight. Like they were right now.

Sasha winked at me from the bar as we entered, leaning over the ledge to show her new tits off to a drunk guy who looked like he was about halfway into a midlife crisis. He’d already removed his wedding band, the white slice of untanned flesh on his ring finger probably brighter than any silver or gold.

She could be his for the night if he could afford the ride.

“My sons,” Diesel called to us from the back of the bar where he was setting up a shot at one of the pool tables. Playing himself and winning.

“Want some real competition, old man?” I asked him as we approached, shrugging off my jacket to toss it over a chair back. This late on a Monday night, there was little happening at Sanctum, and the echo of Diesel’s 8-ball sinking shot rang through the mostly empty hall.

Diesel snubbed out his cigar and removed the ashtray from the table side, his silver rings glinting in the vintage table light above. “Always. Here, rack it up, and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

He tossed me the rack, and I caught it, emptying the ball return to set up the game while Rook signaled Sasha for a drink, and Grey slumped into the nearest booth, frowning at his phone. Probably still dealing with an onslaught of messages from his former fuckbuddy. He still hadn’t given Bri the green light to hit back at Ava Jade, even though I’d told him to the moment she refused us. He thought I didn’t know, but it was obvious. Bri would’ve had Ava Jade carved like a Thanksgiving turkey by now if she thought she could get away with it. Or, she’d have at least tried to.

I’d let him think he was in control, at least for now, until the right moment.

Diesel polished off his beer and sighed. Not a great sign. He rarely drank. That, coupled with the deep lines in his forehead and the darkness beneath his eyes told me he was more stressed than he was letting on.

The more vocal members of the Saints were calling for blood after what happened with Randy. They wanted retaliation, and he promised it would come, but only once we had solid intel. The A carved in Randy’s chest could just as easily have been an A for Arty. A member of the Kings who Diesel gunned down last year for stepping where he shouldn’t. Or it could’ve been a member who acted alone.

There was that one time a year back when they tried to retake the docks. We lit them up like Christmas morning. Bells and all. Two Aces fell that day. It was only because their leader wasn’t aware of the attack that the Aces still existed at all.

Or the whole thing could’ve been a set-up.

Dies wouldn’t act until he knew what he was dealing with, no matter how vocal they got. But it was him who needed to deal with them all in the meantime.

“All right, son,” Diesel said, giving a tight jerk of his head for me to have a seat before we started our game. “Let’s talk.”

I nodded and followed Dies to Grey’s booth, nudging my brother to move further in so I could sit across from our leader. Grey obliged and Diesel slid in opposite me.

Rook joined a second later, whiskey in hand. Diesel clapped him on the back, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze. “You look good,” he told Rook. “Up for a fight in a couple weeks? Some upcoming MMA aspirant wants to take a stab.”

A sly grin played over Rook’s lips.

“Has he ever done an underground cage match before?” I asked, needing more details before Rook could agree to it.

Diesel pursed his lips. He hadn’t.

I shook my head. “Rook will kill him, Dies. Bad for business.”

“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s signing up for,” Diesel agreed. “We could use the cash.”

That was the end of that then. Diesel had already decided. And Rook looked like a pig in shit. Swirling the golden liquid in his glass with a shiver of delight.

“Anyway, that’s not what this is about.”

“What’s up Dies?” Grey asked, slipping away his phone to give our old man his full attention.

“I’m going to need you boys over the next couple of weeks. I know you have your own shit going on, but that’s all going to have to be put on hold. I’ll need your focus. All of it.”

My skin bristled and without warning, a mental image of Ava Jade surfaced in my head. Put her on hold? I wasn’t sure if I could do that. But for Diesel, if he needed it, I’d try.

“What do you need?”

“I’ve set up a gun deal with the Reapers MC. They have a shipment for us, coming in next week. We need some more firepower and I have a buyer for half the order down south.”

Damn. I thought it was the last time last time we made a sale to the Mexican cartel. I didn’t like being involved with them. But neither did Diesel. He wouldn’t be setting this up unless we really needed it.

“I need you boys to case the trade point and replace out where they got the guns. The Reapers don’t usually run guns. Drugs are their MO. I don’t want fucking blowback after the deal is made. Make sure their source is legit and report back to me.”

“You got it.”

This was something I could do. Something I was good at. Planning. Recon.

The things Diesel used to do himself before I came along. His need for control nearly rivaled my own. Trust no one but family, that was his adage. And I had no doubt it was the only reason he was still alive at almost fifty.

“I don’t want you missing too much school,” he added before I could start asking more questions to flesh out the situation. My jaw clenched.

We all knew how Diesel felt about our education. It was a stipulation for us to join the ranks of the Saints. He didn’t give two fucks about college but wanted us to do what he didn’t in his teens and finish high school. Graduate. The whole idiotic shebang. He made a very generous contribution to Briar Hall to get us in. So generous in fact that they even took his suggestion of a motto change and ditching the antiquated uniforms.

They didn’t know they were letting a pack of wolves in to have their way with the sheep. Or maybe they did but didn’t care. The antiquated academy was on the verge of going under. It ran on hush money and bribes from wealthy parents now.

“We’ll swap out,” I offered. “Two of us on the job, one in class to pick up assignments. Good?”

“Good.”

He leaned back, blowing out a breath. There was more.

We waited.

“That’s not all,” he admitted. “I’ve set a meet with the Aces.”

“What?” I growled, fists clenching beneath the table. “When?”

“Two weeks. Right after the gun deal.”

“Is that smart?” Rook asked and his trepidation lent weight to the question. If he of all people questioned the sanity of the decision, then I felt fucking justified in my rebuke.

Diesel’s jaw set and he lifted his chin. The minuscule movement undetectable to most spelled the words no fucking reproach allowed clear as day to me. He’d already decided this. It was too late to change his mind.

“I want you three there. I can’t trust the others to keep level heads. Randy was…he meant a lot to them. Like a surrogate son to some.”

He didn’t have to elaborate. Though we did larger jobs with the other members from time to time, we were a unit unto ourselves. Joined and yet somehow also separate from the rest. We didn’t form attachments. Not beyond this.

Not beyond family.

“We need to know if they were involved… If that mark carved in Randy’s chest was theirs, then they’ll own it. Why else make it so obvious? And if it was them, we deserve to know why. If the bastard who did it acted alone or on behalf of Lenny Ace. We’ll have to retaliate. I need to keep my men under control. This needs handling.”

“Bloodshed?” Rook asked, his brows lowering, but not enough to shadow the gleam in his dark eyes. “Or a trade?”

“If the person acted alone, a trade. The killer’s life for Randy’s. If Lenny doesn’t agree to that then, yes. There will be blood.”

“And if it was them? If Lenny sanctioned the kill?” I asked.

His dark look said it all. If it was sanctioned by their leader then we wouldn’t be the ones to initiate the bloodshed. They already had.

“Where is the meet point?”

I wanted to case that out, too. Make sure there was an escape route. No way for them to come at us with uneven numbers without us knowing well in advance.

Diesel signaled Sasha for another beer, also signaling that this conversation was coming to an end. “Haven’t decided yet. We’ll give it to them same day. Like usual.”

No time for them to set anything up, but plenty of time for us. It would be up to them if they wanted to take the risk and honor the meet. If they didn’t, it would mean they had something to hide and we’d replace them and kill them anyway.

If it wasn’t them, all they had to do was say so and Dies would walk away. He would replace out the truth eventually, he always did. And if they were smart, they’d know that lying to Diesel St. Crow bought you nothing but a bullet with your name on it.

“Let me do it,” I offered. “I’ll replace a good meet point. Somewhere in no man’s land. I’ll scope it. Rig it. Make sure there’s an easy escape if needed.”

“You’ve got enough to do over the next couple of weeks, son. I can handle it.”

I nodded, a muscle ticking in my temple, making my eye twitch. I’d rather do it myself, but Dies was the one person I trusted implicitly. He’d get it done.

“Everyone good with this?” he asked as Sasha dropped him off a fresh beer and slid Rook a fresh whiskey.

“Can I get anything for anyone else?” she asked, and Grey shook his head. She didn’t wait to hear from me before leaving with a little extra pop in her hips. She’d been trying to get Diesel between the sheets since she started here. She wouldn’t have any luck.

“Alright.” Diesel clapped his hands together, effectively ending the conversation. His cunning stare slid to the pool table and returned to me with a renewed spark of life. “Ready to get your ass kicked, son?”

The king of pool at Sanctum, Diesel hadn’t ever been beaten. Not by anyone. But maybe tonight would finally be the night that the apprentice overtook the master.

I scoffed, flipping my internal switch. There were enough hours between now and dawn that I’d have plenty of time to start the recon Diesel asked for after we left.

Business later.

For now, I had a Saint to dethrone.