Page 38 of Hawk

“Forty-five at best,” I taunted him with the truth. “It wasn’t us.”

He spat again and whistled, making a rally motion with his hands. “You fuckers better hope not,” he warned. “Let’s go.”

They jumped into a royal blue low-rider convertible and sped off. I watched until the taillights faded from view because I didn’t trust those fuckers as far as I could throw Cesar’s little ass.

“As much fun as it was kicking their asses, something doesn’t feel right.”

Maverick’s shoulder brushed mine on the left and Gio bumped me on the right.

“Agreed,” Gio said. “I’m not sure all what’s going on because it ain’t my job to know, but both sides accusing each other of shit they’re not copping to sounds like a third party is interfering.” He shook his head with a laugh. “Sounds like some sitcom shit to me.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me. If they really thought we took their drugs, they’d do more than harass customers at one of our brothels.”

“Fuck, I hate that you’re making so much sense right now. Something fucking stinks right now.”

“I agree with that. The problem is that Cesar has every fucking reason to lie because Los Ochos can’t beat us as they are.”

“Yeah, that’s for damn sure,” Gio agreed. “But there have been some quiet rumors that they’re looking to merge with Red Diablos. Nothing concrete, just rumors.”

I turned to Gio with a smile and clapped him on the back. “Thanks for the intel, Gio. If any of the guys seem antsy, comp them an hour and let us know how much we owe the girls.”

“Yeah, all right. You need another partner to whip some ass, think of me.”

I laughed and shook my head. Gio was going to be a damn fine club brother soon. “This shit is fucking with my head. Ready to get back?” I asked Maverick.

“Fuck yeah. I don’t like this feeling one goddamn bit, and the sooner we figure it out and kill whoever needs killing, I’ll feel better.”

“Amen, brother.” I thought about Cesar and Los Ochos the whole time on the short ride back to the clubhouse and nothing about it felt right. Or genuine. Cesar wasn’t as pissed off as he should’ve been if he thought we stole drugs, which equaled money, from his gang. I’d have set the brothel on fire if that was me. Los Ochos were reckless, they never thought about their actions until the consequences came back to haunt them. But harassment? That was small fucking potatoes by comparison.

Gio and Maverick were right, none of this shit felt right.

After we caught the guys up on what happened at Fifth Street, I took the long way home to clear my head before I saw Laura.

Sweet, sexy, beautiful Laura.

Chapter Eighteen

Laura

I paced the length of the living room for twenty minutes, waiting for Hawk to come home. I was still a nervous wreck after realizing I was being followed last night. I couldn’t concentrate on the drive to work this morning, and once I was roaming the halls of the hospital, my mind wasn’t squarely focused on the patients. The work. I was distracted, thinking about that damn red car, the would-be kidnappers, all the upheaval in my life recently. I couldn’t be an effective nurse if I couldn’t focus on what was important—the patients.

Hawk had followed me to the hospital before heading to the clubhouse, but he couldn’t be with me twenty-four-seven. This had to stop. I couldn’t live my life constantly on edge, terrified that every car was someone determined to hurt me. I needed answers, and I needed them now.

The roar of Hawk’s motorcycle drew closer, and my pacing increased until the steady thump of his boots crossing the garage stopped. The door opened and there he was. In an instant I was in his face, my hands gripping his t-shirt tight. “Well? Did you find out anything about who was driving that car?” My heart pounded in my chest and every syllable that flew from my mouth grew higher in pitch. “Hawk, tell me something!”

His lips pulled into a lopsided grin that was sexier than it should’ve been. “Did you miss me, sweetheart?”

My nostrils flared and my grip tightened. “Do not play with me right now, Hawk. I’ve been a wreck all day.”

His laugh was deep and rumbly, a sound that shouldn’t have been sexy in my current state, but dammit, the man just oozed sex appeal the way some men oozed cheap cologne. “Playing sounds nice.” The words slipped from his lips barely above a whisper as he stepped around me and made his way to the kitchen. “Just give me a second,” he said, almost as if he saw me suck in a breath to ask another question behind him. Hawk pulled out a beer and popped the cap with the bottle opener stuck to the fridge.

My gaze was fixed on his throat as it bobbed up and down with every swallow of the dark brown liquid. His lids fluttered shut, the universal sign of relief, gulping until half the bottle was empty. “Hawk.” I meant my tone to be forceful, not dripping with horny neediness. However, as my eyes went to his knuckles thoughts of sex suddenly evaporated. “What happened to you?”

He gave a lazy shrug, “Had a bit of a chat with Los Ochos.”

My eyes widened with shock, “Is this about what happened last night?”

He shook his head, “No, this was about club business.”

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