When Dove Cries by Beth D. Carter Page A

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    “What’s this?”
    “That is your payment from Bryman Jay,” North answered, watching him over tented fingers.
    “There must be twenty grand here.”
    “There is,” North said. “The money’s legit. Now.”
    “Drug money,” Draven said, disgusted. He pushed it back toward North. “I don’t want it. Ace turned traitor for that shit.”
    North didn’t touch it, either. “Yeah, I know, but for once, our coffers are full,” he said. “I hate to say that Pete was right, but the payment we received from your drug run, and the percentage cut from the laundered money has us sitting pretty. I paid off Nick’s hospital bill and I was able to give Tina a hefty settlement.”
    “Jesus,” Draven muttered. “How are we supposed to wean the guys off of this?”
    North sighed and shrugged. “Might as well take that stack. I’m assuming you’ll want to pay for Dove’s hospital bill.”
    “Yeah. Shit.” He grabbed the money. “We’re moving into the clubhouse for a bit, if it’s okay with you.”
    North shrugged. “Fine with me. I’d say make sure to rent the rooms, but no need to worry about that now.”
    Draven snorted. “How’s Nimrod?”
    “He’s fine. Bullet lodged in his shoulder, no harm to any arteries or organs. He’s being discharged tomorrow.”
    “I want to patch him in,” Draven said. “That man has saved Allis and Dove. I think he’s proven his loyalty to the club.”
    “Agreed,” North said, smiling. “It’ll be good to have a party here. Haven’t done that in a while.”
    “We couldn’t afford it for a while,” Draven replied dryly, holding up the cash. “Speaking of Nimrod, what’re we going to do about the shooter?”
    “You sure it was the Devils?”
    “Well, I didn’t see a patch on the jacket or a plate, but the man was riding a Harley Sportster. Branch was right. No one else rides Harleys except us and the Devils. And I didn’t recognize the bike as one of ours.”
    “Let me ask you a question,” North said. “Your new friend isn’t involved in this, is he?”
    “Believe me, North, he’s not.”
    “Okay, I’ll trust your word. Well, logic would dictate we can’t outright attack the Devils without proof, but we got to send a message.”
    “Agreed. I say they shot at us, we shoot at them.”
    “They went after Dove, so I’m assuming you want to handle that?”
    “You bet I do.”
    “Okay. Do it at your discretion. Now send Cade in. I’d like to talk to him.”
    Draven nodded, picked up the cash, stuck it in the inside of his vest and headed out of the church. He saw Dove and Lovey sitting in a corner as he walked over to Cade.
    “North wants to talk to you,” he said in a low voice. “He’s suspicious of you. I think you should tell him the truth.”
    “I’ll think about it,” Cade murmured as he walked past him.
    Draven didn’t even bother watching him. Instead, he focused on Dove, and when she glanced up at him, his desire to get her alone overrode everything else. He headed toward her, barely acknowledging Lovey, and took hold of Dove’s hand.
    “Come with me, Dove,” he said firmly, not even giving her a moment to say goodbye to her new friend. He headed upstairs to one of the far bedrooms and opened the door. He pulled her inside and shut them inside, locking it.
    “Draven?” she questioned.
    He cupped her face.
    “Remembering you in his arms has been driving me crazy,” he told her right before he covered her mouth with his. He pulled her up to bring her body against his and deepened the kiss.
    Dove opened for him, her tongue meeting and dancing with his. He withdrew then plunged, nibbled and devoured until they were breathless. When he lifted his mouth from hers to gulp in some much-needed air, he kissed his way over to her ear, first licking the shell then nibbling on the lobe. She squirmed against him, either liking it or finding it ticklish.
    He ran his hands down her back, skimming over the sides of her breasts until