Page 46 of Hawk

“You always do.” I squared my shoulders and steeled my spine as we approached my meddling ex-boyfriend. “Detective Owens, how can I help you?”

His lips tightened into a straight white line at my formal greeting. “Laura, what the fuck is going on with you lately? You’re hanging out with a biker. A criminal.”

I folded my arms and did my best to look bored. “I haven’t committed a crime, so I don’t see how who I spend time with is any of your business.”

He sighed, incredibly annoyed, and put his hands on his hips like I was one of his suspects. “You need to be careful.”

“I’m a lot more careful than I used to be, don’t worry.”

His nostrils flared. “I’m serious, that guy Hawk isn’t a good guy. Him and his biker gang buddies are into some really serious shit, like human trafficking.”

Instinctively, I didn’t believe Eric because, unlike Hawk, he was a known liar. “And they’re not in jail because you have too much evidence on them, right?”

“We don’t have enough, not yet.”

“Then you don’t have anything and you’re lying because you’re jealous.”

He reached for my arm and yanked me close. “You’re not safe with him.”

I used my free hand to push against his chest and put some distance between us. “Get your fucking hands off me, detective!”

He looked around at the stares that drew close. “You need to come stay with me where you’ll be safe.”

I barked out a loud laugh. “Safe with you? Bullshit. I thought I was safe with you, but you didn’t care enough about my health to wrap up your dick when you fucked around on me, so I’ll take my chances with literally anyone but you.”

“He is selling women, Laura. Who the hell are you that you don’t care about that?”

“Don’t question what I care about, Eric. If you could prove the lies you speak, you’d have Hawk in cuffs. If you show up my job again to harass me about my personal life, I will file a formal complaint.” I’d threatened him with it before, but this time I was serious. It was only the thought of the paperwork that was stopping me from going ahead and doing it right now.

“I thought you were someone who wanted to help people.”

I laughed. “And I thought you were a nice guy. We both were wrong. Goodbye, Detective Owens.”

He wanted to say more, but wisely, he did not. Eric stormed off like the spoiled man-child he was.

***

Even though Eric was a liar, I couldn’t deny that his words stuck with me for the rest of the day, and when Hawk picked me up, my mind had already run a marathon of thoughts. I didn’t think he was that kind of guy, but I’d been wrong about men before.

Hawk had never made any excuses or pretended that he didn’t sometimes operate outside the law, but trafficking human beings? He wouldn’t. Would he? Not possible. The man had a protective streak that wouldn’t allow him to hurt people who didn’t deserve it.

“Okay, what’s going on with you, Laura?” Hawk looked at me across a wooden table at a small burger joint, his brows pinched into a frown. “Did something happen at the hospital today?”

“No,” I lied easily.

“Well, something happened because you’re in your head and it’s clearly bothering you. Talk to me.”

I nodded. This was how mature adults handled conflict, they talked about issues and got them out in the open. “Okay, fine. I do have a question. Are you guys pimps?”

His green gaze was inscrutable as he studied my face, but slowly—torturously slowly—a smile began to spread across his face. The smile turned into laughter, and he shook his head, amused rather than offended by my question. “You have an active imagination.”

I was not amused, and I folded my arms and glared at him to get my point across. “This isn’t funny. It’s a serious question, Hawk.”

“Okay, fine.” He raked a hand through his long hair, which hung free today, no leather tie to tame the wavy beast. He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back, his gaze still focused on my face. “I don’t know who’s gotten in your head, but we are not pimps and we don’t traffic, period. Not men or women or children.”

“But you do, ah, facilitate the sex trade?”

He pulled his lips between his teeth and nodded. “Yes. We have girls who work in our brothels. The legal adults are contract workers who can—and do—leave whenever they want.”

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