Page 59 of Taming Hawke

I’m pushed forward until I’m standing in front of the man himself.

Santana.

He’s standing there in a pinstriped navy suit, gold cufflinks gleaming even in the muted light, and a red tie standing stark against his crisp white shirt. His black hair is slicked back, just like Franco’s, but the difference is that Santana is going gray on the sides.

He’s smoking a cigar, and smirks when I’m a couple of feet away from him. “Ah, Hawke, you made it. I take it your flight was an enjoyable one?”

“Cut to the chase, Santana. I’m not here for small talk. You wanted me here, I’m here, so spit it out. What do you want?” I bark out in case he didn’t get the idea I wanted to get down to business.

My arms are suddenly folded up behind my back, and I feel a slight sting at the uncomfortable stretch of muscle. “Watch your mouth, puta,” Franco growls in my ear.

“Franco!” Santana shouts. “Let him go.”

My arms are freed, and I stand to my full height again. I look around the warehouse. There are men above, leaning on railings holding machine guns on us, but no sign of Josie.

“Where’s Josie?” I demand, my heart sinking at the thought she might already be dead. That I was too late.

Santana puffs on his cigar as he walks closer, blowing the smoke over my face when he’s in front of me. I clench my jaw and look straight into his dark brown eyes.

“She is fine. First we talk business, then I will show you Josie.”

I shake my head. “Not gonna fucking happen, I need to see she’s okay.”

“Are you giving me orders, Hawke?”

“Not orders, Santana, an option,” I say sternly.

He laughs, but it’s not genuine. “You have some balls on you, Hawke,” he says before sucking on his cigar again. He inches closer, and leans into my side. “But I like that,” he whispers in my ear.

I swallow hard because I’m playing with fire here. Santana could have me shot at any time, but for whatever reason I’m choosing to test him.

Giving me his back, he turns toward the men above us. “Javier, bring the girl.”

I look up at this Javier. He’s holding a machine gun, and nods down at Santana. “On it, boss.”

Javier walks to one of the closed doors behind him, and opens it. Only seconds later he’s dragging Josie out the room. She looks a mess. Black mascara streaks down her cheeks, telling me she’s been crying, and I can hear her sobs even though her mouth’s covered by the dirty rag tied around her head.

Her eyes show hope when she sees me, and I yell up to her, “You okay, Josie?”

She cries even more, but nods her head.

Santana looks from Josie to me. “She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?” I don’t reply, and he laughs. “Oh, that’s right, you two are not together anymore. So you won’t mind if I have a taste?”

My fists clench at my side. I may not still be with Josie, but I can’t allow this fucker to rape her. Josie doesn’t deserve that.

Santana looks down at my fists, and smirks. “You still care for her, don’t you, Hawke?”

I don’t reply, just look Santana in the eye. “Get to the point, Santana. What do you want?”

“Please,” he says, gesturing for me to sit at a nearby table and chairs. On the table is some whisky, and my mouth dries at the vision. I could do with a drink right now.

I follow Santana and take a seat. He lifts the bottle of whisky and pours two glasses. I quickly take mine, and down the whole drink.

“Another?”

I nod, and Santana fills my glass again. I grasp it in my hand and swirl it around this time.

“Okay, Santana, you wanted me here, I’m here. Cut to the chase, what do you want?”

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