Page 46 of Hawk

“But he needs you more.”

He shakes his head. “Hawk knows what he’s doing, and he’s not alone in this. I can’t say much more because Hawk will lose his mind, but he has all the help he needs. He told me that the best thing I could do was to make sure you were safe. It would be a load off his mind. I’m doing that so he can focus on the business at hand,” he explains.

Sasha’s been quietly listening to us, then she gets up, takes my hand, and drags me to my feet. “You need to do yoga and meditate. It does wonders for you.”

“Sasha—”

“You can either sit there and worry or give Hawk the peace of mind he needs to get the job done. Your choice,” she says with her hands on her hips.

“Let’s do yoga.”

Declan helps us move the coffee table and roll out the mats. He keeps himself busy checking around the house, while Sasha introduces me to the land of peace and meditation. I haven’t forgotten about Hawk or the dangers that he’s facing, but I do feel more in control of my emotions.

Hawk

Shooter and Decker are driving the truck with the product while the rest of us are in our set positions or traveling close by to keep an eye on the truck. We’ve seen several Jackal members throughout the ride. That’s Gunner’s way of making sure we don’t screw him.

He was waiting for us at the warehouse and took great pains to explain the route over and over. Of course he did; the fucker is setting us up for a fall and doesn’t want us to deviate from the plan. That’s the last time I’ll see him, until he falls into our trap.

We’re five miles out from where the cops are supposed to be waiting for us to search the truck when we see the truck turned over on the road, blocking our path. Right on cue! Damn, Guard’s good!

I make the call to Gunner. “Hey, man, we got a problem,” I say, and go on to tell him what’s going down. “You better make the call to your end guy, ’cause we’re not going to get there today at this rate.” I exaggerate to get him riled.

“It’s got to be there tonight,” Gunner insists.

“Then make the call.”

“Hold up. I’ll get a new drop point,” he relents, knowing the Benitos, a.k.a.Nostra Casa, will not be happy with the delay. So far, all is going according to plan, but we can’t let our guard down. The Jackals are unpredictable, and Gunner is the sleaziest of them all.

I wave Shooter over to the side of the road and pull up next to the driver’s window. Decker leans in to listen along with Shooter. “Looking good, Riders, but stay sharp. With these assholes, we can’t put anything past them.”

Shooter nods, while Decker does a scan of the streets, then says, “The Jackals have men scattered all over the route. I’m on it.” He pats his piece strapped into the holster under his vest.

Just then, Gunner’s call comes through.

“Yeah,” I answer. I don’t even bother trying to be nice.

“Sending you the new location via text. Benito’s pissed because of the change. I’ll meet you there,” Gunner says, sounding annoyed.

“Nothing I can do about an overturned truck,” I respond.

“Right. Just get there,” he replies curtly.

I hang up without saying goodbye. I check my text to make sure the location Gunner’s sent matches. It does, and I send a text to Guard to let him know we’re on our way. I turn to Shooter. “Drifter and I will lead the way.”

He gives me a two-finger salute, Drifter does a chin lift, and we set off on the last leg of the journey. As we near the end of our trek, I notice some of our Satan Pride brothers. They’re not visible unless you’re looking for them, and since this was part of our plan, I see them. I have to say it gives me some degree of comfort. One meeting with Reno and Sebastian Viale tells me that these are men you don’t want to mess with, and Risk is their connection. Having the Pride with us adds a level of security into the mix.

When we turn onto the long drive that ends in front of the warehouse, I see that outside stand three of Reno’s soldiers. I recognize them from our first visit. Reno stands with a man I don’t know who is visibly shaking. I’d bet my last dollar that’s Cicco Benito. His hair and clothes are disheveled, and he keeps glancing pleadingly in Reno’s direction.

Shooter parks the truck, and both he and Decker get out of the truck and walk toward Reno. Drifter and I dismount our bikes and head to our positions around the side of the warehouse to wait for Gunner to make his appearance. It’s not long before the sound of bikes approaching is heard, and through the dust, they come into view.

Unbeknownst to Gunner, the second they drove through the gates, Reno’s men closed them in, cutting off their escape route. Gunner senses something’s off and grinds his bike to a halt. He takes one look at Cicco and understands his situation is dire.

Immediately, he reaches for his gun, and his Jackal brothers do the same. I watch as the bullets fly through the air from both sides. This is Reno’s fight; he made that clear. I’m content to witness Gunner’s demise from where I stand. Gunner swerves his bike and races in the direction he came from, only for a bullet to hit him in the shoulder. He tumbles from his moving bike. Gunner’s shaken but looks around to see his brothers all lying on the ground around him. Some are moaning in pain; others are dead. I step out from behind the warehouse. He sees me and clearly knows that the tables have turned.

“Bring him to me,” Reno orders. Gunner looks at Reno, then at me. As Reno’s men approach, Gunner lifts his gun to warn them off. He then does something I’d never expect. He puts the gun under his chin and pulls the trigger.

“Holy fuck!” Drifter exclaims. “What the hell!”

---