Page 27 of Hawk

“Save me one,” he replies and disconnects.

“You lied, Ginger,” I say, tossing her a look and giving her a sly grin.

She turns up the corners of her mouth in a proud smile. “No, I didn’t. There’s chocolate in them.”

When we arrive at the shop, Etain settles back behind her desk and gets to work. She dives back into where she left off, and I collect the parts request form and get on the link for Guard’s parts place and place the order. Then I set off to meet Drifter.

“Take him his muffin, babe. I promised,” Etain calls out to me as I’m leaving.

The tattoo place is three doors down. Phantom is a tattoo artist, and he wanted a shop of his own. This is his to run when he gets out. We hired Luke, who is almost as good as Phantom, to get the place open and start attracting clients. It’s slow going, but we haven’t had time to put much effort into it since we’ve been concentrating on the auto mechanic side of things. After Phantom’s sacrifice taking the fall for his brothers, this is the least we can do.

Luke locks the door when he’s working on a client, but I see Drifter waiting for me. He’s got his phone to his ear, but he sees me coming, gives me a chin lift, and keeps right on talking.

“Prospect, huh? Did you tell him he’s working for the wrong club?” He pauses, then Drifter does an evil laugh. “I bet he was shitting his pants.” Another pause, then, “Fine. Get back to the shop. I’ll fill Hawk in. Later.”

“A Jackal prospect?” I ask.

“Not anymore. Kid got a rude awakening. The Jackals left him out there all night in enemy territory. Guy’s barely sixteen. They used him. Shooter saw he was scared shitless. He and Flex explained how the game is played and took him out to his school and told him to stay there. They confiscated his bike,” Drifter explains.

“I assume he didn’t have any useful information, then.” I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back against the reception counter.

“His vest said “prospect,” but the kid knew less than nothing,” he says.

“Got any good news for me?”

“I do, my friend.” Drifter drops his ass in the waiting room chair. I follow him and sit in the chair next to him. I motion for him to go on. “The Jackals are working with the Benito family. Old Mafia with deep pockets. The Jackals have been contracted to carry their product across the state line to the end buyer. Cicco Benito is a nephew and low man on the totem pole and acting on behalf of Gino Benito, who lives in the old country.”

“So far, I’m hearing nothing that’s going to help us out.”

“Raven’s been tracking the merchandise. The same amount being brought into their dive of a warehouse is not the same as what’s leaving. Gunner’s keeping some for himself and is selling to local dealers,” Drifter says with a crocodile smile that would scare any mean motherfucker.

“Fact?” I ask. I need pure hard facts if I’m going to approach Guard with this information.

“Raven’s bugged the warehouse. There’s a storage room with product, then a hidden room behind that, accessible by code only. That’s where the extra is being held. A pound here and there is going to go unnoticed, and by the time the shipment gets to the final destination, anyone can be blamed. Raven’s got it on video. He’s got it in his hand,” Drifter tells me.

“I want him pulled out and returned here. If they find him, considering what he has on them, he’s a dead man. It’s not safe.”

“He’s on his way back. Left two hours ago. Flex is meeting him to make sure he makes it back safe.”

“Flex isn’t enough. The Jackals run in packs. They’ll never be able to hold them off if shit goes south.” I rake a hand through my hair. “Where are the rest of the men?”

“Most are on the edge of town waiting for them to show. Shooter and Decker are on Etain.” Drifter blows out a breath. “It’s a matter of another hour at most.”

“It took only a few minutes for the Jackals to set off alarms and trap Phantom, Flex, and Shooter,” I remind him. I pull out my phone and dial Guard.

Guard answers on the first ring. “What’s up, brother?”

“Taking a chance by asking, but do you have anyone nearby? We’re bringing Raven home, and he’s carrying important information. Flex is with him, but we’re fucked if they get caught.”

“Hold up.” I hear him call out. “Wildcard, where’s Roscoe and Hammer?” There’s a pause before Guard comes back to me. “Roscoe and Hammer are on the main highway to your place. They dropped off a skip and can meet up with Raven. They’re in a black GMC Terrain.” He rattles off a license plate and a phone number so that the men can connect before he lets me go.

The next hour seems like a lifetime. After calling Flex and giving him the information for Roscoe and Hammer, Drifter and I ride out to meet them.

“I’m fucking starved. I should have stopped for breakfast,” Drifter grumbles as we keep watch on the road. I remember the damn muffin I was supposed to give him and whip out the paper bag I put it in.

“Here.” I toss it at him. He catches it midair. He opens the bag, pulls out the muffin, and takes a bite that devours half the muffin in one go.

“Holy fuck! This is good,” he manages to say around a mouthful. “Got any more?”

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