Page 9 of Hawke
I laid my cheek on the cool brick, trying to calm my breath so I wouldn’t be heard but also so as not to push out my hot breath into the night air.
Just one peek to see if he’d come for me, that’s what I wanted to see. My heart was going to explode if I didn’t find out, but what if he saw me? Would it give him hope that I would forgive him all over again?
I pushed my nails into my palm, feeling it almost pierce the skin.
No.
He gave me his answer.
I helped Anaki roll the last keg under the bar. There were six, and he was expecting a lot of drinking tonight. Grim and Journey were the guests of honors. I was more excited to see Journey. She had been the only woman I’d felt a connection to, to have a friendship with.
I mean sure, I was friends with the guys at the bar, but a female friendship was different.
Journey had been through more than any other person I knew, though. She had been used by sex traffickers, drugged, cut, and bruised. I couldn’t imagine what she’d been through, so she very much deserved a man like Grim.
Despite his intimidating biker appearance, he had a kind and generous heart. I always knew he did; it was just hard to see beneath his own scars.
“Thanks, Delilah, that really helped.” Anaki pulled a rag from his back pocket, wiping it over his face. Anaki was lean, but he was really strong. Lately, though, I’d noticed he’d been tired, maybe even weak. He couldn’t pull as many kegs in as he used to, and that bothered me.
“Have you seen Bones lately?” I asked offhandedly, wiping the tops of the kegs.
He shook his head. “No, why would I need to?”
Anaki pulled glasses out from under the bar and set them on the worn tabletop. The door opened and more bikers came piling in. They were slapping each other on the back, shoving each other while Anaki filled their glasses.
“You don’t seem yourself. I’ve noticed the past few weeks. You are…tired?”
Anaki and I finished filling the glasses, and we handed them out one by one. He sighed, leaning on the bar with his arms crossed.
“I’m more worried about you, Dede.”
I scoffed. “What do you mean? I’m fine.” I grabbed my tray, ready to make my rounds.
Bikes rumbled in the distance, and the band was already warming up. I stepped down off the step of the bar, rounding it until Anaki whistled to get my attention. It was so loud others around us looked up to see the commotion.
I chuckled, waving my head in his direction. “Come on, Anaki, we’re celebrating Journey and Grim. I’m working with my best friends tonight. I’ve got nothing to complain about.” I gave him a wink and pranced away, taking orders like I always did.
An hour later, Grim and Journey arrived. Once they settled, I picked up an empty pint and trotted over. If there was one person I was going to talk to before I left, it was her. No offense to my male friends, especially Anaki, but I knew he would be on Hawke’s side. He was a member, a guy, and you know, bros before hoes and all that.
“So, how did you do it?” I asked. “All the women are dying to know how you bewitched the scariest one of them all!” I nudged her with my shoulder.
She blushed, heat rising up her neck. Her brown hair looked healthier, her once pale and gaunt face finally filling in. Journey was a beautiful woman, inside and out.
I glanced across the bar, my fingers wrapping around the tray. Three more pints of beer that I needed to deliver were set in front of me.
“It just sort of happened,” Journey replied. “Grim knew what he wanted, and I guess he fought for it.”
I gave her a warm smile. It was genuine for the first time in a long time. I’d worried that she would become a plaything like I’d been turned into, and I was happy it wasn’t the case.
That big scary biker fought for her and didn’t give a crap what anyone else thought. I admired that.
“I’m thrilled for you, Journey, I really am.” I patted her hand. “And I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’ll be leaving at the end of the night.”
Journey frowned. “What? why?”
“I came into some money. You see, I’ve been working at a diner early in the mornings across town as a pastry chef and server. I’ve scrimped up enough to leave, and I’m going to do it.”
Seven days a week, every morning from three a.m. to eight a.m. I made pastries, pies, and homemade bread. I didn’t get tips, but the owner was so impressed with my work he paid me a bonus, and I had just enough for a one-way ticket out of here.
