Page 29 of Hawk

“What do you think, asshole?” I snarked in a bone-dry voice.

Stone shrugged. “Just checking. Getting a feel for what I’m dealing with. I’ll file a police report for the paper trail and insurance.”

Gemma looked up at me. “I—should I have reported it?”

Before Stone could respond, I dropped my head so our faces were inches apart, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You don’t call the cops, Gemma. You call me. And I was already here.”

She blinked up at me, swallowing hard.

“I’ll handle it. Always.”

Stone made a sound like a dry chuckle. “You’re his now, sweetheart. That makes you one of us.”

Her breath hitched, her cheeks turning a soft rose. “I—I’m not?—”

“Yes,” I cut in, voice flat. Final. “You are.”

She stared at me, lips parted, hope flickering in her eyes.

“You’re mine, baby.”

When I finally raised my head, Stone was smirking at me. “Better knock her up. Lock that shit down.”

“Working on it.”

Gemma flushed scarlet, the color flooding her from her ears down to her collarbone.

I grinned, but before I could say anything else, the rumble of bikes echoed off the buildings. Wrecker pulled up first, followed by Racer and a pair of fresh-faced prospects. They dismounted, eyes sharp as they took in the mess.

Gemma instinctively burrowed into my side, and I curled my arm tighter around her.

She knew they’d never hurt her, but they were still intimidating motherfuckers.

Wrecker sauntered over to us and caught her eye, giving her a rare smile. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ve seen worse. This is nothing. Don’t even have any blood to clean up.”

Gemma stiffened, and I glared daggers at my brother.

“Appreciate you coming out,” I said before he could say anything else stupid and force me to shut him up with my fist. Or my Glock. I was on the fence about that.

“No problem,” he murmured, his humor dissipating as his attention turned to the destruction. “Told Mav we’d make it look like it never happened.”

We got to work, and it helped keep me from losing my shit, but the fire in my gut was growing by the second.

I was dumping a load of trash into her bin when my phone rang.

Not bothering to check who was calling, I answered, “Yeah.”

“I found it,” Deviant announced.

“Found what?”

There was a short pause before he responded, and I knew that meant it was bad.

“A hidden forum. Encrypted by invitation only. Buried fucking deep on the dark web. There are portfolios, private photo sets…all of them intimate shots of men and women, or both. And a lot of them are completely nude. Gemma’s watermark is on at least three of the boudoir samples.”

“Portfolios? Samples?” My hand closed around the edge of the trash can so tightly it cut into my palm. “Why wou—” Then it hit me. “They’re fucking selling them?”

“It’s a fucking black market. Voyeur shit. Password-protected trades, timed auto-deletes, rotating proxies. Think dark web, but worse. Encrypted and buried behind dead-drop servers. Took me all night to crack. But I have a lead.”

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