Page 14 of Hawk

He’s right. When I begin to look around, I take in all the beauty of the trees and feel the warm wind. The rumble of the engine that scared me half to death when he started it, I now find soothing. I loosen my death grip and flatten my hands on his stomach. Even through his leather jacket, I can feel his hard, sculpted abs.

We reach our destination sooner than I would like. Hawk helps me off, then he gets off. He unsnaps my helmet. I take my hair out of the ponytail and shake it out. When I look at him, I see an expression that stuns me. His eyes are heated, his jaw is tight, and he’s staring straight at my mouth. His arm comes around my waist, and he tugs me closer to his side as we walk into the shack where he says Jake makes the best burritos.

Once inside, he doesn’t let go of me, but he does a full scan of the room. The tables are practically all taken, and there’s a line to order, but as soon as the older man behind the counter sees Hawk, he gives Hawk a wink and places a handwritten “reserved” sign on a table.

“That’s Jake,” Hawk says, leading us to the table where his friend is waiting for us. Jake pulls Hawk in for a manly hug. “Good to see you, man.”

“Ah, Hawk. It’s been too long.” Jake looks at me. “If this lovely lady has been taking up your time, I forgive you.” He chuckles, then Jake reaches out to take my hand in his then bends to kiss my cheek. “Jake Frontinac, owner of this dive, and loving every part of it.” He introduces himself with the biggest, brightest smile.

“It’s good to meet you. Hawk says I have to have the burrito experience from Jake, so hook me up,” I say, causing Hawk and Jake to laugh louder.

“Joint’s busier than ever,” Hawk says, scanning the room.

“Yeah. I can’t complain. Sit yourselves down, and I’ll get you your regular, Hawk.” Jake turns to me. “And I’ll fix you my famous burrito.”

He’s gone before I can say thank you. Hawk holds out my chair for me to sit. Even though the place doesn’t look like much from the outside, inside, it may be rustic, but it’s homey. The tables and chairs are made from repurposed wood, and the walls are a warm blue with abstract-painted hubcaps mounted on the walls. It’s unique, and I love it.

I’m loving the ambiance, but I can see that Hawk’s mood quickly shifts when several men come in through the front door wearing biker jackets a lot like the one Hawk has on, but with a different insignia. As they walk by, I see across the backs of the jackets: The Jackals, in a bold red script. I can feel the shift in Hawk’s mood. When they see us, the men turn and head in our direction, their grins turning into sneering, mocking smiles. Hawk begins to tense up.

I’m at a loss for words. The smoldering hatred radiating from Hawk is enough to make me want to bolt. “Not a word, Etain,” Hawk warns.

I haven’t even opened my mouth and have no idea what he’s referring to until a big man with a long, scraggly beard hanging down to his chest and longish blond hair half covering his face approaches the table. His legs are as thick as tree trunks, and he has a bit of a gut, but it’s the tone of his voice that sends shivers down my spine.

“Hawk.” A single word dripping with so much animosity that I feel it run through me.

“Gunner.” Hawk acknowledges the man leading the group of three.

“And who’s this? Your new little biker bunny?” Gunner asks, his focus dropping to my chest. I’m riled up and about to give this jerk a piece of my mind when Hawk reaches over to grip my hand and give me a stern expression, reminding me to keep quiet.

I avert my gaze back to Hawk, who looks right at me. “Go see if Jake has our food ready in the back.” He stands and motions for me to head to the kitchen.

“You’re not going to introduce me?” I hear Gunner ask as I step away.

“Women don’t play into our business. Never have, never will,” Hawk replies.

“I might be inclined to forget the rest of your debt if I get a couple of hours with the pretty redhead. If she gives good head, I might even owe you a favor.” Gunner breaks out in a chuckle, and his buddies do the same.

Hawk does not. “We have one more piece of business together, and that ends soon. After that, you go your way, and we’ll go ours.”

“I think we should reconsider our business agreement. The Jackals and Riders could rule this state.”

I shouldn’t be listening, but I can’t help myself.

“After the next run, we’re done,” Hawk says. He keeps talking, but Jake shows up at my side and hustles me into the back room.

Jake sees the concern on my face. “Hawk can handle himself.”

“There’s three of them.”

“Not nearly a fair fight for the Jackals. Hawk will destroy them if they try anything,” Jake replies. I gasp, and Jake says, “It won’t get that far.”

“How do you know?”

“I put a call in to Drifter as soon as I saw those punks come in.” Jake grins.

“Who are those guys, anyway?”

“The Jackals have their own club across the state border. They’re not good people. They believe in ‘ride hard and die hard’ and don’t give a shit who they hurt in the process. They’ve tried to recruit Redemption Riders to amalgamate with their club to create a bigger territory for themselves to peddle their product. Hawk and his brothers have repeatedly refused,” Jake explains, but I can see he’s only telling me part of the story.

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