Hawk Wild (Lost Boys MC Book 2)

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  It’s Friday and Shelly’s going stir-crazy being cooped up in the house all day. She can’t drive yet and her only daytime outings are with Kerri and Tracker to go to the physical therapist.

  “Everything still quiet?” I ask Gypsy every time I see him. His post in The Knights before King got suspicious of all of us was as the ear to the ground, specifically The Horsemen, and he’s moved back into that spot in our new group.

  Club.

  I can call it whatever, but at the end of the day we’re all back in a club. Never really left.

  But this one is nothing like the last one we were locked into.

  “Haven’t heard shit.” Gypsy steps out the door and scans the street in a move that no one else would recognize. “They’re laying low. I think they’re a little gun shy.” He squints against the sun. “But what happened won’t go unanswered.”

  “It was their own fucking fault. If anything, what happened was retribution for them trying to take Shelly.” I know this is why Gypsy holds back with me. Because when it comes to Shelly I can’t keep my head on straight. Can’t see things without the color of her presence in my life tinting it.

  Don’t want to.

  “They don’t see it that way. They see it as one of ours killed one of theirs.” Gypsy’s tone is calm. The way I would be if this was about anyone but Shelly.

  Or Jill.

  Or Kerri.

  I thought I was a land mine when it came to women. That all it would take was one wrong step for me to explode into a monster.

  I was right.

  It just didn’t work out exactly the way I thought.

  “If they come for her again I will—”

  “Cut them into pieces small enough no one will ever find them.” Gypsy finishes my sentence, his tone laced with sarcasm. “We know.”

  “And she didn’t kill him. His own fucking car did when it rolled on him.” I’ve said the same damn thing a million times. Like I can convince the universe to make King see the truth.

  But he won’t. King doesn’t see the truth. He makes it.

  Twists and turns everything until it fits his agenda.

  And his agenda is all about power.

  Power he’s working hard to get back and use to right all the wrongs he’s spun into existence.

  “Doesn’t matter what really happened. You know that.” Gypsy spins his keys around one finger. “We just have to wait and never stop being ready.”

  It’s fucking exhausting having this over our heads. Knowing an attack is coming and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

  That’s why we have to get organized. Meetings once a week to see how everyone’s doing aren’t going to cut it anymore.

  We have to do what we all swore never to do again.

  “You got a name picked out?” Butch swings one leg over his bike.

  “Why do I have to pick a name?” I pull out my cell, itchy to check in on my girl.

  “Cause you bought the place.” Butch kicks back his stand. “House owner gets to pick the club name.”

  I look up at the building. Broken down from neglect. Lost.

  Like we all were.

  “What about The Lost Boys?”

  “Like from Peter Pan?” Tracker doesn’t sound like he’s judging my idea. More like he’s pondering it.

  “Yeah. They were all just trying to survive without anyone but each other.” The more I think about it the more it fits.

  “And trying to kill Captain Hook.” Gypsy shoves a cigarillo between his lips. “Don’t forget that part.”

  Tracker turns to look at our new clubhouse and nods. “Lost Boys it is.” He walks back to the sleek black Escalade Jill bought once her assets were unfrozen. The windows are tinted just beyond the legal limit and it’s chromed out to all hell and back. You can’t miss it, and it’s the only one like it I’ve seen around here.

  I watch as he starts to climb in. “You hoping King will think you’re who he’s after?”

  He grins back at me. “Hoping like hell he does.”

  I know Tracker’s my competition. If there’s anyone who might want a piece of King more than me it’s him. If it came down to it I might even let him have it.

  The second I’m in my car I call Shelly, my heart picking up speed with every passing ring. Just as I’m ready to turn the car around and head home instead of back to work she picks up.

  “Hey.” She’s out of breath.

  “You’re on the treadmill. You’re not supposed to be on the treadmill.”

  Shelly groans into the phone. “I’m not on the treadmill. I was doing my physical therapy stretches and left my phone in the other room.”

  “Why in the hell was your phone in the other room?” I can almost feel my blood pressure rising. “You swore it would be with you every second.”

  “I had my gun.” She says it like that makes everything better. “Not making that mistake again.”

  After a month of spending her days at Jill’s under locked guard Shelly begged for me to let her stay home.

  And when it comes to her I have a hard time saying no.

  But she’s never alone. Not really.

  She just doesn’t realize it.

  And the hell I catch when she does will all be worth it.

  “What are you doing?” She makes the little grunt that comes when she sits down. At this point I think it’s more habit than pain that brings it out.

  “Took the guys to see the building.”

  “They liked it, right?”

  “I think so.” I maybe shouldn’t have bought it without their approval, but the place was perfect and I couldn’t pass up the deal.

  “If not I think we should fix it up and move there.”

  I can’t help but smile. I like that she’s making plans. I worried she’d want to move back into her house when it was finished. I like having her with me every night but hate that she didn’t have a choice.

  I want her to choose me.

  And it seems like she is.

  “I wouldn’t even have to buy a new pole.”

  “Now that might make me tell the guys they can’t have the place. I never did get that show you promised me.” I pull into the lot at work and park.

  She snorts. “I didn’t promise you anything.”

  “You said I had to pay. I can stop by the bank for some ones on the way home.”

  “Ones?”

  I like the teasing edge to her fake outrage.

  “I’m worth at least fives.”

  “Oh, Sweetheart. You’re worth everything I’ve got and more.”

  ****

  “YOU BETTER DO your business and get your big ass back in here before daddy gets home.”

  Hank gives me his sad dog face and his limp suddenly becomes more pronounced as he goes back to sniffing around the fenced-in yard behind Shaun’s house.

  More like forted-in yard. The heavy wood surrounding the perimeter is eight feet high and each board is cut at a sharp angle, making it not just impossible to climb, but also stupid.

  But those Horsemen aren’t turning out to be geniuses.

  I shouldn’t think poorly of the dead.

  But that guy deserved what he got.

  The guilt I almost had over him dying because of what I did evaporated the second I found out he grabbed me to use as a bargaining chip.

  Then I was glad my zip ties broke and he slipped right out of my headlock and through one of the windows. Only reason I didn’t follow him was because of the way my knee wedged between the seat and the console.

  Same reason Hank and I ended up with matching limps.

  He finally works into a lopsided squat and drops his load near the house then immediately comes back inside. I shut the door and lock it, tucking my gun back into the holster I wear all damn day so I can stay here alone, then reset the security system Shaun installed the night I got home from the hospital.

  Hank goes straight to the couch and turns to look at me.

  “Yeah, yeah. I know.�
� I hobble over to his side and help him hoist his big body onto the sofa. “I owe you.”

  I ease down beside him, wincing at the expected pain which doesn’t come as strong as before.

  A dislocated knee and hip is no fucking joke. Definitely no pumps for me once school starts in two weeks.

  Shaun hasn’t said much about what will happen once I go back to work, but I’m guessing the same cops who’ve been watching me during the day will be keeping an eye on me then too.

  The ones he thinks I don’t know about.

  Poor guys sit out there all day with nothing to do. Maybe King decided I’m more hassle than I’m worth.

  Or maybe I’m on the same short list as Jill and Kerri.

  Doesn’t really matter. If he keeps coming after us then he’s only going to keep losing.

  My phone rings and I snag it, thinking Shaun’s calling me on his way home from work.

  But it’s Felicity.

  When I answer she’s yelling in the background.

  “You know I hate the smell of those things. You’re just being a dick to me.” A deep male voice says something back to her that I can’t make out.

  “Not enjoying your time with Gypsy?”

  “Ugh.”

  Never in a million years would I have imagined Felicity and I being friends but here we are.

  “I don’t understand why I still have to be chaperoned everywhere I go. No one gives a shit about me.”

  Something in the way she says it makes me feel bad for her. “That’s not true.”

  “Don’t fucking blow my skirt up, Shelly. It’s fine.” She huffs out a breath. “Apparently we’re coming to your house because now I have to learn how to shoot a gun.”

  “Is that a good idea?” Felicity is a lot of things. Turns out she’s pretty smart and kind of thoughtful. When I was still stuck on my ass she brought dinner every night so I didn’t have to eat take-out all the time. Even offered to teach me how to cook her beef and noodles because I loved them so much.

  Maybe someday I’ll take her up on it. Right now I’m pretty comfortable with my grilled cheese and spaghetti-sauce-from-a-jar level of culinary skill.

  “It’s a terrible idea. That’s why he’s doing it. Ass likes to torture me.” She says it like he’s not sitting in the seat right beside her.

  “I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes then.” I hang up and my phone immediately starts to ring again.

  This time it is Shaun. “Hey, handsome.”

  “How’s my girl?”

  I’m not sure which I like better. Sweetheart or my girl. Both are better than that Kitten thing he started out with. “Good. Hank and I are just relaxing. Did Gypsy call you?”

  “He’s coming to get one of my handguns to teach Felicity how to shoot.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” I know there’s a chance Felicity could have a run-in with one of King’s minions but I’m not sure arming her will make her any safer. “I’m not sure she is the shooting type.”

  “I’m positive she’s not, but Gypsy really wants her to at least know the basics and he’s willing to deal with it so that’s his problem.”

  “Whose problem is it if she accidentally shoots him?”

  “Still his.”

  Shaun says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s been discussed.

  Hell. It probably has. These guys don’t do anything without consulting each other.

  And I kind of like it. Like knowing they all have someone they trust that much. Someone who will always have their backs.

  An hour later Gypsy and Felicity are off to the range and Shaun and I are alone.

  I just want him to sit with me. Hold me close. It’s all I’ve wanted lately. I get that he worries about me.

  But I worry about him more. King’s nothing if not unpredictable. He’s gone after their girls twice now.

  I’m worried he’s going to change it up.

  Shaun grabs his keys off the table and opens the door. “Be right back.”

  A few minutes later he comes back in with four large shopping bags looped over his arms.

  I sit up a little straighter on the couch. “What is all that?”

  He shoots me a grin and lines them up at my feet. “I meant to do this weeks ago but—“

  “But Hank got shot and I dislocated half my lower body?”

  “That.” He reaches into the first bag and pulls out the plushest, fluffiest, pinkest blanket I’ve ever seen, draping it across my lap.

  He goes back for more, lifting out more and more pink. By the time he’s on the last bag it looks like Strawberry Shortcake barfed in his living room.

  I fucking love it.

  The last items he pulls out are two boxes of white twinkle lights which he sets beside me on the sofa. “I want you to feel at home.”

  My chest squeezes with an ache I feel a lot around him. Sometimes I forget he doesn’t see what’s right in front of his face. I scoot closer to the edge, pink items of all types toppling off my legs and onto the floor as I go.

  I grab his face in my hands the way I do when I want to be sure he’s really hearing what I say. “I am at home, Shaun. I just want to be wherever you are.”

  His arms wrap around me in that gentle way he’s done since I got hurt. “I love you.”

  The air stops moving into my lungs.

  I knew Shaun loved me. Have known for a while now.

  Also knew I still kinda scared the shit out of him so I didn’t press.

  But now...

  “You know when I knew I loved you?” I lean into him, my hands still holding his face.

  “When?” It’s a whisper. Soft and scared.

  “When I was still in that damn car. Worried you were going to get hurt or—” I can’t make myself say the last part. Never can.

  “I’m not going to get hurt.” He leans back to rake one hand through my hair. “Promise.”

  “I’ll kill him if he hurts you. Bum leg and all. I’ll cut him—”

  “We gotta come up with something new to say.” One finger traces the line of my jaw. “Apparently the guys are tired of hearing that specific threat.”

  I shake my head. “Not a threat.”

  He chuckles low and deep. “That’s why I love you.”

  “What’s why you love me?”

  “Cause you’re just the right mix of crazy and sweet.” He leans in and slides his lips over mine, the smile still lingering on his mouth.

  And I can’t help but smile with him.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and tilt my head back to look him in the eye.

  “Well one of us has to be a little wild.”

  ****

  Thank you so much for reading Hawk Wild. I hope you love Shelly and Shaun as much as I do. Grab your copy of the next book in the series, Gypsy Soul, here.

  If you love the Lost Boys MC, you might also enjoy Out Bad.

  Especially since Niko (Crow) is in it.

  Along with his future love interest.

  Shhhh. No one knows that but you.

  Grab your copy of Out Bad to read more about The Horsemen’s past and see how Niko is really doing now that The Knights are dissolved.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at chapter 1 of Out Bad, Sinners or Saints book 1.

  “WHO’S THAT?” I nod across the bar toward the sandy-haired blonde chatting with my buddy Heath's wife. The two women sit in a corner booth, leaned close together.

  They don’t look like new friends.

  Which makes me wonder why I don’t know her.

  Heath cranes his neck to peek between the shifting bodies stuffed into Goodtime Charlie’s. His eyes barely narrow as the woman I can’t seem to stop watching laughs, leaning back in the peeling booth. She tosses a thick lock of long hair over one shoulder, pretending not to notice the dark looks coming her way from anything in the place that’s breathing.

  And has a dick.

  Tonight, that includes me. It’s been a long fucking time. Self-imposed.

>   But still.

  Heath shifts in his seat, shaking his head. He tips a half-empty bottle of beer to his lips, taking a sip before turning back my way and blowing out a long breath. “She’s not what you’re looking for, Joe.”

  I take a sip of whiskey, watching over the tumbler’s rim as the top-shelf burns its way down my throat.

  I’d noticed Blondie the minute she walked in. Unfortunately, so did every other man in the room. In a sea of black shirts and well-worn jeans, she shines like an oasis sparkling against the horizon.

  A fucking siren in a room of sailors, begging to be called to their death.

  She'd walked through the door, a gold, glittery shirt slipping off one pale shoulder as she scanned the crowd. The dark jeans she wore fit her long body like a second skin, displaying every curve and dip of her ass and thighs before tucking into boots with impossibly tall, ridiculously thin heels that pushed her height above at least half the men in the room.

  And Blondie didn’t just walk in.

  She swayed.

  Moved through the packed bar in a way that made every fucking shift of her body impossible to ignore.

  Not that I was trying real hard.

  I set my drink down and let my eyes wander back to where Blondie and Gabbi sit.

  Heath might not think she’s what I’m after, but at this point I’m more than considering checking that opinion out for myself. “I beg to differ.”

  Heath snorts beside me, dragging my attention from the first woman to make me look twice in years. “Well if you’re in the mood to beg, maybe she’s right up your alley after all.” He raises a finger to the bartender, ordering another beer. “Cause she’d chew you up and spit you out without breaking a sweat.”

  Oh, I could make her sweat. I’m positive of that. If I was young and stupid, I might even try to prove it. Probably tonight.

  But I’m not young.

  Or stupid.

  Or looking to be fucked and ducked. Not anymore.

  And considering the way she’s acting with Heath’s wife, there is a good chance she and I could run into each other again. “She a friend of Gabbi’s?”

  Heath sighs dramatically from the stool beside me. “I’m telling ya man. Don’t even think about trying to mess with that woman.”

  I force my eyes away from Blondie for the second time tonight, turning to the best friend I’ve ever had. The same friend who has been trying to hook me up with every other woman under the sun, yet suspiciously doesn’t want me messing with this one. “Why does it matter to you?”