Page 63 of Taming Hawke

Hawke

I shake Santana’s hand, agreeing that I’ll speak to Quill about his offer. He’s promised if I don’t follow through, he will hunt Josie down and kill her, and my club. I don’t doubt him for a second, Santana has the means to do anything. He’s a well-protected man with connections everywhere, including the police. I just gotta figure out how to get out of this situation.

First things first, I need to go see Josie.

One of Santana’s men drops me at the clubhouse, and hands back my cell phone before speeding off. I check my messages and there’s one from Quill. Fuck. I’m gonna have to tell him something, or else he’ll kill me.

It’s quiet at the clubhouse, just the prospects onsite. Rhyder and Torch are at the gate, and open it up to let me in.

“Hawke, brother. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the wedding?”

“I had something come up. I need a bike, give me your keys.”

Rhyder looks hesitant and I thrust my hand out to him. “Give it to me, fucker, I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Can’t you take the truck?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you disobeying your VP?” I say, snarling at him. “Remember who has influence in the decision about you becoming a member of this club.”

Rhyder smirks. “You ain’t Prez, brother.”

“Who do you think Prez asks when we vote in new members? Yeah, me motherfucker. So hand me your keys.”

Rhyder throws up his arms in defeat. “Okay, okay. Here, take it.”

He throws his keys at me and I catch them, walking off toward his bobber. I slide my legs over the seat and start up the motorcycle. It roars to life. Not a bad sounding engine. I rev the shit out of it, loving the look of panic on Rhyder’s face. He looks as if he’s gonna pass out. That’ll teach him to fuck with me. I take off at full speed, riding through the quiet suburban streets to Josie’s apartment.

Parking the bike, I slide off, march myself up to her building, and punch numbers into the intercom. I can’t believe I’m back here. Everything has been such a mess since the night I took her home from Black Panthers. It’ll teach me to not be such a kind-hearted fucker next time.

The gate opens and I race up the stairs two at a time. Fuck, I should have changed. My pants are starting to irritate the fuck out of me.

Just as I’m about to knock on Josie’s door, she opens up. She must have just got out of the shower, all wrapped up in a dressing gown and her hair wet. She’s been crying as well, her bloodshot eyes giving her away.

“Can I come in?” I ask hesitantly, not knowing if she’s open to what I have to offer her. She nods and opens the door wider for me to enter.

Once I’m inside she shuts it again. “Can I get you a beer?”

“Sure, I could do with one after the night I’ve had.” Josie smiles but it’s a brief one. She grabs a beer out of the fridge and hands it to me. I don’t miss the way her hands shake when she passes it to me. She rubs them down her thighs. “I can’t make them stop,” she explains as she shakes them in front of her.

“Let’s sit down, Josie. We need to talk.”

“I know.” She grabs what looks like a cup of tea off the kitchen bench, and walks over and takes a seat on the couch. I sit opposite not wanting to give her any kind of indication that this is anything more than a friendly chat.

She sighs, placing her mug on the coffee table. “Go on, say it, Reece. I know you’re dying to.”

I down my beer then place it on the table. “Listen, Josie. I’m not your fucking father, okay? I’m here because if I don’t try and help you, I’m gonna regret it.” I look over into her doe eyes, filled with tears. “I want to help you. Let me help you get better.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “How do you suppose you help me, Reece?”

“I need you to trust me. If you want your life back, I need you to go into rehab.”

“No fucking way!” she shouts jumping up off the couch.

I stand up and storm around the coffee table to where she’s standing, grasping her shoulders in my hands. I know I’m probably squeezing a little too tightly but she needs to feel the pain, needs to know I’m serious.

“Ow, you’re hurting me, Reece,” she cries out, trying to break free of my hold.

I shake her. “Do you understand that you could have died tonight? Do you fucking have a death wish? Cheating Santana with his own drugs. Are you fucking crazy?” I growl, my face only inches away from hers.

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