by Chiah Wilder
“I’m here for the night.” Hawk turned away and watched Kristy and Lola as they carried in platters of ribs and fried chicken. Kristy smiled and waved at him, and he lifted his chin to her.
“Who makes your food?” Jax asked Steel.
“We have a cook, Lena.”
“Fuck, aren’t you all sophisticated and shit? You have a cook,” Jerry said, and they laughed.
“Hey, Hawk,” Wheelie said, squeezing between him and Axe to get a drink.
“What’re you up to?” Hawk felt his phone vibrate.
“Not much. This should be a good party. I’ve seen some brothers I haven’t talked to since August in Sturgis.” He grabbed a drink and stood in front of Hawk.
“You doing good?” Hawk watched Wheelie’s face to see if he could pick anything up. Ever since Wheelie had offered to watch Sofia that weekend Tigger had gone on a poker run, Hawk had been anxious. He really liked the brother and didn’t want to have to beat his ass. The brother he couldn’t stand was Tigger, but he was a patched member and deserved the respect and loyalty afforded to all in the brotherhood.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just asking.”
“I’ll see you.” Wheelie ambled away and vanished into the crowd.
Hawk looked at his phone. Another call from Cara. And a text. He put the phone in his pocket. She had to respect him and not question his decisions when it came to the club. He loved her so much and had shown her in so many ways that she was number one in his life, and her questioning that left a real bitter taste in his mouth. I bet Belle wouldn’t have said shit to Banger. She understands he’s got a responsibility to the club. She knows her role. Cara could take some fuckin’ lessons from her.
“Hey, cutie. You look super pissed. Aren’t you having fun?” A soft hand curled around his bicep.
Glancing sideways, he saw the new club girl who kept trying to get his cock in her pussy. For the life of him, Hawk couldn’t remember her name.
“Don’t feel like talking? That’s okay. Do you want me to get you some food?” She came in closer, and he could see her tits through her skimpy top.
“I don’t want anything. Circulate. They’re a shitload of out-of-state brothers who need taking care of.”
“Just call me if you get lonely.” She sashayed away.
His phone kept vibrating, and he almost answered it when the presidents of three of the chapters came up to him, pulling him into a bear hug.
As the night wore on, Hawk talked too much, smoked too much, and drank too much. By the time two thirty rolled around, he was plastered, sitting on a bar stool breathing in smoky air. His head spun and the whole room whirled around as if it were on a carousel, slow at first and then faster and faster. Swaying on the stool, he gripped the edge of the bar and stood up. Blood rushed to his head, and he pressed his hands to his temples as if the simple gesture would stop the constant throbbing.
“Need some help, cutie?” A woman in a low top with big tits pressed her soft body against his.
“Cara? What the fuck are you doing at the club, baby?”
“My name’s Heather,” the woman said stiffly.
“Heather? Who the fuck are you?” He swayed on his feet.
“I’m just here to help you make it to your room safely. That’s all.”
“I don’t want you. Get Cara. Tell her to get her ass to my room. I need my woman.” He pushed Heather away and staggered, his hands gripping anything he could to steady himself. Officers maintained rooms even if they didn’t live at the clubhouse, and he slowly clumped up the stairs to his on the third floor.
It took several minutes for him to put the key in the lock, but finally the door opened. Pushing it closed, he leaned back against it, waiting for the room to stop swirling. With much effort, he made it to the bed, pulled off his boots, and flopped on his back. Closing his eyes, darkness came.
* * *
Hawk raised his heavy eyelids, quickly closing them halfway when shards of sunlight pierced them. Draping his arm over his eyes, he groaned. His head felt like an axe was planted in it, and his throat was like sandpaper. Fuck. Taking his arm away from his pounding head, he forced his eyes open again and cursed the brightness of the morning as he struggled to cope with it. On the nightstand, he saw his phone and fumbled for it. When he saw a ton of texts and several missed calls from Cara, his stomach turned sour. I really fucked up. Deciding he better get his ass home and smooth things over, he tried to move but it felt like he was in quicksand.
Then he heard a soft sigh and something bump against his left leg. Glancing over, he saw a woman sleeping next to him. He bolted up. “Fuck!” he yelled, then held his head. Nausea grabbed him as realization hit him: a woman other than Cara was in his bed. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to remember what the hell had happened the night before. Did I fuck her? I couldn’t have. I never would’ve done that to Cara. He was pissed at her, but he’d never take another woman in his bed. But there was another woman lying next to him.
What the hell did I do?
Nudging her with his leg, Heather turned around, smiling. She stretched like a cat, then wrapped her arm around his waist. He moved it away.
“Why the hell are you in my bed?”
“I was so tired, I fell asleep after you did.” Smiling shyly, she ran her finger up his arm. “You’re way better than your reputation, and that’s pretty awesome.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Her gaze widened. “I’ve never been fucked like that before. It was pretty incredible.”
Forcing himself up, he grabbed his T-shirt on the floor. “You’re bullshitting.”
Jutting out her lower lip, she pushed herself up and leaned against the headboard, the falling sheet revealing her naked breasts. “I’m insulted you don’t remember our night of passion.”
“Cover your damn tits.” He went over to the window and looked at the mountains, squinting. Did I really fuck her? How could I do that? Yeah, I was drunk as shit, but there’s no way I’d betray Cara. Since he’d first seen her, she was the only woman he’d ever wanted. Women came on to him all the time, but he never considered going behind Cara’s back. He didn’t want to; she was the love of his life and was enough for him for a zillion lifetimes. He glanced down. I still have my jeans on. Something’s not right.
“Do you wanna take a shower together? I can rub you down real good.”
He looked over his shoulder. “I want you to get the fuck outta my room. You shouldn’t have been here in the first place. Club whores aren’t allowed in an officer’s room.”
“Unless he invites her, and that’s what you did.” Naked, she bent over and scooped up her clothes. She blew a kiss at him, winked, and closed the door behind her.
Staring at the closed door, he rubbed his temples, trying to remember if he did something so despicable and disloyal to the only woman he’d ever loved. In his past, he’d been wasted to where he blacked out, but he’d never fucked a woman and didn’t remember it. This is bullshit. There’s no way I would’ve touched another woman, drunk or not.
He trudged to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. The cool water calmed his aching head and gave him renewed vitality. After drying and dressing, he gulped down three aspirins and headed downstairs.
The great room looked like a tornado had hit it: bottles strewn everywhere, furniture topsy-turvy, blinds torn from the windows. When he went into the kitchen, Kristy hovered over the counter, pouring orange juice into a glass.
“You don’t look so good. Want some?” She lifted the carton and reached for a glass when he nodded. “You tied on a good one last night.” She smiled as she handed him the glass.
In one long gulp, he drank the juice. “What the fuck happened last night?”
“You were in a real sour mood and you got real drunk. I haven’t seen you that drunk in a really long time. Remember how we used to party?”
He slowly nodded. “When we did, I always remembered it the next morning.”
“Of course you did. I was unforgettable.” She laughed.
“Yeah, but I always remembered when I fucked a chick. Something’s not gelling here.”
Kristy pressed her lips together and turned away.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, shrugging.
“Don’t bullshit me. We go back a long time. I know when you’re hiding something.”
She walked over to the kitchen door, looked out, and then closed it. Taking the seat next to his at the breakfast counter, she placed her hand on his forearm. “That shit last night was staged.”
“What do you mean?”
“Heather concocted it. She’s pissed as hell that you’re ignoring her, and she hates Cara. Lola egged her on, but it was all Heather’s doing. I told her not to do it, and Brandi and Wendy said she was fuckin’ nuts. We thought she was all talk until Lola came to our rooms telling us Heather snuck into yours.”
His temples pounded. “So I didn’t fuck Heather?”
“No way. Do you think I would’ve let that happen?” She laughed dryly. “If you’re gonna stray for one night, it’s gonna be with me. I was your go-to girl back before Cara came into the picture.”
“That fuckin’ bitch.” Muscles strained against his skin.
“You were so wasted you forgot to lock your door. The slut snuck in there early this morning.”
“She’s fuckin’ history.”
Kristy stretched her arms over her head. “I never liked her. She doesn’t know her place. I’m the head club girl, but she acts like she’s all that just ’cause she’s twenty-two and all the brothers are into her ’cause she’s new meat. She’s nothing but a skank.”
Hawk put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “Thanks for telling me.” He stood up. “I gotta take care of something before I go.” He walked to the door and stopped when Kristy called his name. He turned around and looked at her.
“I just wanted to give you a heads-up that Doris was in here earlier this morning and Lola was making sure she was talking real loud in the hallway about you fucking Heather. I know Doris is an old lady and I gotta show her respect, but that woman lives for gossip and the nastier it is, the more she loves it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already called Cara.”
Knots formed in his stomach; he had no doubt Doris raced to call Cara. The woman never cared when something good happened to another old lady or to a brother, she only lived for the stuff that caused the biggest drama. And this would be the fucking atomic bomb in his household. He had to get home and explain it to Cara.
Fuck, I screwed this up. I should’ve gone home after the party, or at least told her I was too drunk to ride and was crashing at the clubhouse. He grabbed a few plastic bags, nodded to Kristy, and then left.
Climbing the stairs, he went to the attic where the club girls had their rooms. He kicked open Heather’s door and saw her and Lola sitting on the bed chatting. They both avoided eye contact with him, and Heather clutched her arms to her chest. Without a word, he opened her drawers and threw all her stuff on the floor.
“What’re you doing?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Clearing your shit out so the room’s available for the next girl on the list. Your ass is outta here.”
Heather’s mouth dropped open and her eyes shimmered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it.” He threw dusting powder, lipsticks, and a mini hair dryer on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.
“Hawk, she didn’t mean—”
He stood cracking his neck from side to side, his feet planted wide. Adrenaline surged through his body and he knew if either of the bitches said another word, he’d lose it.
“Don’t say another damn word or your ass is outta here too,” he gritted to Lola. She hung her head and folded her hands in her lap. He threw the plastic bags at Heather. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to bag this shit and get your ass out. If you’re still here after fifteen minutes, I’ll throw your ass out and I won’t be gentle. Leave your cut on the bed.”
Lola glanced up at him and offered him a small smile that seemed to say she was sorry and grateful he was letting her stay. He clenched his fists. “And this is the last time you fuck with me and my wife. If you even think about doing shit to me or any other brother in the club, I’ll kick your ass out next.”
He stormed out and went into the great room, checking the time. He meant every word he said: if the club whore wasn’t gone in fifteen, he’d drag her out.
“You still here?” Wheelie asked as he sidled up to the bar.
“Yeah. I threw one of the club whores out.”
“Which one?”
“The new one.”
“She disrespect you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then her ass has gotta go. We got someone already waiting to fill her spot. I’ll let the brothers know.”
Hawk saw Heather dragging two large black bags behind her as she walked toward the front door. She didn’t look at Hawk, just kept walking with her head down until she was outside. Satisfied, Hawk slid off the stool and put on his leather gloves.
“I gotta get home. See ya.” He fist bumped with Wheelie, put on his sunglasses, and went out into the bright sunshine.
After switching off the motor, he quietly turned the doorknob and slipped into the mudroom. The aroma of warm butter and maple syrup greeted him as he heard the small voices of Braxton and Isa in the kitchen. Pulling his hair back in a ponytail, he walked in. Cara was by the griddle flipping pancakes, and Braxton and Isa were at the table.
“Daddy!” Braxton cried as he scrambled out of his seat. Isa laughed and extended her hands, her green eyes sparkling.
Hawk scooped Braxton up and kissed his cheek, then went over to Isa and grabbed her chubby hands. “Are you guys waiting for the killer pancakes your mom makes?” He glanced sideways at Cara but she ignored him, her eyes on the griddle, her lips pursed together. He sat Braxton back on his chair and went over to Cara. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he felt her stiffen like a board.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, pushing him back with her behind.
“Babe, we need to talk.”
“I’m not going to fight in front of the kids.”
“We don’t need to fight, but we need to talk. I got fuckin’ wasted last night and passed out. I shoulda called you but I was too bombed.”
“And were you bombed the minute you stepped into the club? You ignored my texts and calls.” She placed three more pancakes on top of an already growing stack.
“I was pissed.”
“How mature.”
“We just need to talk.”
“I’m making breakfast for our kids. Unlike you, I’m concerned about them and making sure they have a responsible parent in the house.”
In a low harsh voice, he said in her ear, “Don’t ever fuckin’ accuse me of not caring for our kids. That’s a goddamn low blow. I got drunk and spent the night at the club. Fuckin’ deal with it.”
“Get away from me. I have nothing I want to say to you.” She pushed past him, brought the stack of pancakes to the table, and placed some on Braxton’s plate.
Hawk watched as she fussed over their kids. I lost my cool. Fuck. He poured coffee into a large mug, then came over to the table.
“Aren’t you gonna give Daddy any pancakes?” Braxton asked as he brought the fork to his mouth.
“I don’t have enough,” she said, glancing at the stack on the serving plate.
“Isa and me can’t eat all those.” Braxton giggled.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey.” Cara whipped the serving plate away and placed it in the warming oven.
“No worries, little buddy,” Hawk said as he ruffled his son’s hair. “I’m good with just coffee.”
Cara came over and wiped Isa’s mouth with a napkin. “We’re going to see Nana and Noni.”
“Am I going too?” Braxton said.
&nbs
p; “No. You can stay with your father today. Isa, Nana, and I are going shopping. I don’t think you’ll like that.”
“Uh-uh!”
“I’m just going to change. I’ll be right back.” She ran her hand through his hair and stroked Isa’s cheek with her finger, then left the kitchen.
Hawk’s jaw tightened as he watched her bounce up the stairs.
“Did Mommy put you in timeout?” Braxton asked, his blue eyes wide.
“It looks that way.”
“When I do something I’m not supposed to, Mommy puts me in timeout too. It’s not so bad, ’cause I say I’m sorry and that makes Mommy happy. You should tell Mommy you’re sorry. Then she won’t be so mad at you.”
Hawk smiled dryly as he brought the mug to his lips and took a sip. The bitter taste burned down his throat. “I’ll have to try that. Thanks for the tip, little buddy.”
“What did you do?” Braxton stuffed another bite into his mouth.
“It’s complicated.”
“Do you want some of my pancakes? They’re good.”
“Nah. I was gonna make some eggs and bacon. You want some bacon?” He pushed away from the table and laughed as Braxton bobbed his head up and down.
Bent over looking for the frying pan, he knew Cara had come back into the room. The scent of spiced vanilla wisped around him, and his dick twitched. He stood up and saw her in black skinny jeans, a sweater that clung temptingly to her tits, and knee-high black leather boots. Her wavy chestnut hair spilled down around her.
“You look real good,” he said, his muscles tensing when she threw him a dirty look.
She took Isa out of the high chair, wiped her face, and slipped her arms into a plaid fleece jacket with a panda bear on the front. “All set?” Isa giggled and clung to Cara. “Have a good day with your father.” She bent over and kissed Braxton on top of his head.