Page 16 of Hawk

SEVEN

Escalating

HAWK

Ihate leaving Etain in the office alone after our return to the shop. I could feel her shaking on the back of my bike all the way back to the garage. I leave Shooter watching over her while Drifter, Flex, and I take a tour around town to see if any of the Jackals are hanging out.

Everything seems clear, except outside Sasha’s place, I notice a parked Mercedes. Sasha’s a private person, and she lives a quiet life. We’ve been around for a while, and never have we seen a Mercedes outside her home. Drifter and I cruise past, and as we get closer, I look inside the large living room window facing the street. I see a gray-haired older man shouting at Sasha, waving his arms around like a lunatic. Sasha doesn’t move from her spot.

By this time, Drifter and I have stopped in front of her home, ready to step in if need be. Drifter lets out a frustrated growl when he sees the man grab hold of Sasha’s arm, pulling her along. She tears away from him. The man storms to the front door, and we can hear him yelling, “This isn’t over! You need to get over it and come home. Friday night dinner, do you hear me?” Sasha doesn’t say a word. He jabs a finger at her. “I’m warning you, Sasha, don’t make me come and get you.” He storms out to his car and sees Drifter and me at the edge of the road. “What are you looking at?”

“Not much,” Drifter replies, his voice filled with disdain. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and the tall, bulky, gray-haired man begins to walk toward us.

“Just go, Dad,” Sasha says quietly. “I won’t be going Friday, and I won’t be around if you come for me. Don’t come here anymore.” With that, she shuts her door. Through the window, I watch her walk through her home and disappear into a room.

Her father gets in his car, then screeches his tires as he skids around the corner and is finally gone. “What the fuck was that?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Drifter grumbles.

“Let’s get back to the garage. I want to check on Etain.”

“I’ve got to meet up with a guy. Go on without me. I’ll meet you back at the shop later,” Drifter replies. I leave, but Drifter is still sitting outside Sasha’s place, arms crossed, waiting. Waiting for what, exactly, is beyond me.

Drifter’s had Sasha in his sights since the second he first laid eyes on her. We were sitting in the diner in town, eating burgers, when Sasha came in. It’s fucking weird because she’s totally not his kind of woman. She’s soft and sweet, and he’s always gone for the edgy, straight-up, fuck-’em-and-leave-’em kind of woman.

This weird attraction hasn’t stopped Drifter from having a good time with the ladies, but whenever Sasha’s around, I can see his expression changes, and suddenly, he disappears, making an excuse to leave. So why he’s sitting on the road outside her place now is a mystery.

I need to get Raven on the line and catch him up on today’s events. If they’re trying the intimidation strategy, it isn’t going to work. But I fucking hate that the Jackals have seen Etain. Gunner was looking at her the way a starving man eyes a juicy steak.

The Jackals have always been problematic, but since Gunner took over, they’ve been my nightmare. I know it was Gunner who got Phantom his two-year prison sentence. It would have been ten if it wasn’t for Guard and his fancy lawyer, who was able to cut a deal.

Guard and Satan’s Pride despise the Jackals as much as we do. Demon, one of the Pride men, has a history with drugs, and he wants Gunner and his crew gone. And by gone, I mean dead. He knows what the stuff is doing to kids on the streets. Every day, we hear about more and more kids getting lost in drugs, and the stats of those who die from overdoses are climbing.

Fentanyl is a death sentence, and I wouldn’t put it past Gunner to use it in his product. This situation is going from ugly to an all-out war. Gunner hitting Jake’s is new. It means he has eyes on me, or the club, or both. Playing it smart means knowing when to ask for help.

First Raven, then Guard. I hate going to Guard, and then I remember his words of wisdom: “Pride doesn’t make the man. Doing what must be done, in spite of your ego, makes you a leader.” Pride has been my biggest obstacle. I’ve always felt I had to do everything myself, and it had to be done right.

It was Guard who broke me down and built me back up. Running an army unit has prepared me in many ways to run the club, but in others, it has been a barrier. Delegation isn’t an issue, but setting unrealistic expectations is. Since I enlisted, the importance of following the rules has been drilled into me. I lived and breathed rules and regulations. Following orders from the commanders above me felt natural. Then one day, it didn’t. Seeing my peers unnecessarily disciplined because they weren’t liked by their superiors had me questioning everything I believed in.

I left the army and became a civilian. But the army never leaves you. It holds a piece of you. I fought it and tried so hard to bury that part of me. Then Guard pointed out that I’m fighting a worthy talent that could be useful in many other ways.

Transition is always difficult. I saw that when I started changing, and so did the men around me. We’re now tighter than ever. We were friends at the start, but now we’re brothers. That’s why when they burned our brother Phantom, it was a blow to all of us.

I’m not surprised to hear my phone ring and see Raven’s number pop up on the screen. “Hey, Rave, you all right?”

“I’m good. But the Jackals are meeting up with some sleezy-looking hoods arriving in black limos. Doesn’t look promising. I’ve got pics of the guys and am sending them to you. I need different wheels. I saw one of their guys eyeing the van. I punctured a tire and had a tow truck come pick it up and hitched a ride back to the closest motel,” he tells me. Raven’s clever to come up with the plan he did.

“You haven’t been seen?” I ask to make sure.

“No way. When they pull up the plates, who are they going to connect the car to?”

“Already thought of that, bud. Horatio Dobson from Indiana. He was passing through and got a flat. Poor shmuck.” Raven chuckles, and I join in. “I’ll get a car to you tomorrow,” I add.

“Don’t bother,” he says. “I’ve set myself up in the woods. All I need is a pickup in three days.”

“Whatcha got planned?” I ask. Raven takes too many chances, and I worry.

“Gotta trust me, Prez.”

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