by Ryan Michele
When there was no energy left to raise my hand to hit him again I fell to my knees, sobbing. My chest hurt so bad, it was like someone had reached inside and torn out something vital, something that had made it easy to breathe, easy to exist. Now that it was missing I had no idea how to repair the damage to my soul, or if I could ever get it back.
“I hate you,” I whispered and I had no idea if the words were meant for him or for me.
Hawk knelt down on the carpet beside me, looming over me. His hands came up, catching my hair and he swept it back, away from my face.
“You don’t know me well enough to hate me,” he said in a quiet voice. “You’re upset, hurt and lashing out because of Franny. I get that. But, babe, before a couple of days ago I’d had no idea she’d been mixed up in that mess.”
How could he not know? It had happened at his clubhouse, that’s what the police had told me. Police, I might add, who’d done not one fucking thing to look for the person who’d shot her.
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken my thoughts out loud until it was too late.
Hawk pulled on my hair, dragging my face until we were almost nose to nose. His eyes darkened and I think I saw sorrow flash through them momentarily before he shut it down and emptiness filled its place.
“When was the last time you saw your sister?” He asked.
Confusion swam through my foggy brain, that hadn’t been what I was expecting to come from him.
“Hmm… Ten years ago. I haven’t been back since I left.” I’d thought he knew that I hadn’t been back to visit so maybe he figured she’d gone to visit me instead.
Hawk nodded as he let my hair go and stood up. I swayed back at the sudden loss of his hold on me and almost toppled over. All that talking had made me forget about the vodka I’d consumed earlier.
Hawk grabbed onto my arm and pulled me up to my feet. I stumbled into him and he bent at the waist, his hands went to the backs of my knees and he easily lifted me up in his arms.
“What are you doing?” I whispered in shock.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he said. “In the morning I’ll tell you all I know about what your sister’s been doing while you’ve been away.”
“How would you know what she’d been doing?” I asked in a nasty voice. “Did you get reports on her while you were enjoying life behind bars?”
The arms around me tensed and he let out an unhappy growl. It had been a low blow, I knew it, I also knew he didn’t deserve it. Hawk had been nothing but decent to me even though I’d been rude to him at every turn. He should call me out for being an asshole and toss me down to the floor, that’s what I’d do. He didn’t though. His big body relaxed and he continued to carry me through my house as if he knew exactly where he was going and I hadn’t just been unnecessarily cruel to him.
I felt bad so I did what my sister had taught me to do when I’d wronged someone. I apologized.
“I’m sorry, Hawk. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that either. I’m so sorry. I’m not a violent person, usually. I don’t know what came over me and I’m so damn sorry, you’ll never know.”
Sorry for a lot of things I wasn’t stupid enough to tell him about.
Hawk used his shoulder to push open the door to the master bedroom. The room still smelled faintly of must and I knew my sister hadn’t used it since our mom passed. That was the only reason I’d taken up this room as my own. My bedroom had been turned into an office and being in Franny’s room often led me to tears.
Those stupid fucking tears that I couldn’t seem to shake. They found me every day and threatened my sanity.
“I don’t want to cry anymore,” I sighed sleepily as Hawk sat me down on the bed. He pulled the covers back and gestured for me to climb under them. I was so damn tired that it would be easy for me to slide in between those soft sheets, close my eyes and allow the peaceful oblivion of sleep to take me away.
Apparently, all the fight hadn’t left me when I’d disgustingly crumpled into a sobbing mess at Hawk’s feet because I wasn’t going to comply, I needed to hear what he’d implied about my sister. If he knew something about Franny then I wanted to know it. She was my sister, not his. I deserved to know.
“I’ll go to sleep,” I said. “Sure. But I’m going to need you to give me two things first.”
I glared up at him in challenge, suddenly feeling a lot more sober than I had five minutes before.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he eyed me with what looked strongly like distrust. I couldn’t argue with the look, maybe I even deserved it, but it wasn’t me standing in his house, uninvited.
“What do you want from me?” He asked.
For him to walk away from me and never look back, I wanted to say, but something stopped me and I had a strong suspicion it was because it’d all be a lie. Every word of it. Since he’d been decent to me, the only decent person I’d come in contact with since coming back here, it seemed so wrong to use him, to potentially hurt him. Some part of me revolted against it. I was in serious trouble now.
“Why are you here, at my house?” I asked.
He frowned. “You’re here,” he said slowly, like he thought I needed him to go slow in order to understand his words. “I told you, if you stuck around I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”
He waved his hand down at me. “You’re here so I’m here. Eventually, you’ll get used to me being around and, I’m hoping, we won’t have to cover this again.”
“You’re crazy,” I informed him. This, I felt, was the absolute truth. How could you be so obsessed with someone you didn’t really know, just because you thought they were pretty? That wasn’t crazy, more like psycho.
I flopped back on the bed, bouncing a little upon landing. My hands went to my stomach and I laced my fingers together.
“What were you getting at earlier about my sister?” I asked in a soft voice. I was proud, there was no slur to my words this time.
“I think it’s best I wait until the morning to have that conversation,” he murmured. “In the state you’re in now there’s a chance you won’t remember it in the morning and you might freak out on me if I tell you tonight.”
That had me widening my eyes and sitting up.
“First,” I said as I held up my hand and stuck out a finger, “I will admit to having freaked out on you. You forgave me and we’ve since moved on from it.”
The sound of his quiet laughter, dark and rich, filled the room. It made something flutter to life inside of me.
“I forgave you, did I?”
Ignoring him, I stuck out a second finger. “Second, I drank almost an entire bottle of vodka by myself, there’s not a snowball's chance in hell I will be dragging my raggedy, hungover ass out of bed any time near what one would refer to as morning.”
His laughter got louder.
I chose to ignore it again, and stuck out my third finger. “And last, if you don’t tell me tonight then I won’t be able to sleep and I’m being serious Hawk, I’m so fucking exhausted that I cannot afford to go another night without sleep. At least with all the vodka I know I’ll pass out and be dead to the world for a few hours instead of crying half the night and waking up every two seconds for the rest of it.” I snapped my mouth shut, realizing I’d said too much way too late. The more time I spent around him the more shit just kept pouring out of my stupid mouth. It was almost like I treated him as if we were friends or something. Which was stupid because we absolutely were not.
“Fine,” he said as he sighed in defeat. “But I’m sleeping here, and no, before you freak out for a whole different reason, I don’t mean for sex. Believe it or not, babe, but you’re not the only person in this room who’s exhausted and needs to catch some sleep. I’ll sleep here with you and maybe we’ll both get in a few good hours that way. We’ll talk first then sleep. In the morning, if you want to reconsider the sex thing, we can fuck before I make you breakfast. Now, get pajamas on and whatever other shit you need to do before
you go to sleep. I’ve got to make a few phone calls, I’ll just be right in the other room. When I’m done, we’ll talk.”
I watched with wide eyes and a mouth I feared was hanging open as he stormed out of my bedroom. He looked angry, and I couldn’t understand out of everything I’d put him through since he’d shoved his way into my house why he’d choose now to be angry with me.
I had smacked him around and all was copasetic with him. But, wanting to talk was what had him looking pissed off and angry?
Yeah, he really was a psycho.
I hopped up off the bed and ran for the adjourning bathroom. I needed to wipe off my makeup and change into my pj’s before he came back.
5
Lance
I slid my phone into the back pocket of my jeans as I moved for the front door. My bike was already in the driveway beside Maggie’s SUV so I didn’t need to go outside to move it.
After flicking the locks on the door, I moved to the front window. I shifted the flimsy curtain aside and scanned the street. All seemed quiet and peaceful. I wasn’t fooled though, I never took anything at face value. The shit my dad had sunk my club into while I’d been locked up, the shit I was busting my ass trying to shovel us out from under, just kept piling on, and I never knew when more of it would land at my feet.
Maggie, my sweet Poison, was right to hate me. It was shit my club was involved in that had gotten her sister dead. But, it was shit she’d happily gone along with, so my boys had informed me when I’d questioned them after the fair. I hadn’t been around for her demise but, given what my boys had shared, it had been a long time coming, and she’d worked really fucking hard at it.
I did not want to have to share this shit with Maggie, it would only serve to hurt her and that, I feared, would fuck with my head.
I shrugged my cut off and draped it over the back of a chair in the kitchen. I sat down in the chair and removed my boots and socks, tucking my socks inside the boots. I stood and tucked the chair in and toed my boots under the seat.
I checked the back door to make sure it was locked before checking out the kitchen window, scanning the backyard. All was quiet and peaceful back there as well, as it should be seeing as it was the middle of the night and this was generally a quiet neighborhood.
A quiet knock on the front door had me moving towards it as I pulled my gun out of my shoulder holster. I held my gun down by my thigh as I looked through the peephole. Two of my men, both I was certain were loyal, stood on the front stoop waiting for me.
Ronin and Trip. We'd grown up together, and despite my going down, we'd all remained tight over the years. They were two of my biggest supporters when it came to backing my club out of the shit my father had sucked us into.
They'd followed me here and waited up the road for me to come out. They'd remained out of sight of the house because I didn't want Maggie to know they were here and think she was being watched or give her a reason to hate us even more. They'd come with me because I wasn't allowed to ride alone. With bitches getting shot up and our enemies closing in, it wasn't safe for any of us to ride alone.
I opened the door and waved them in.
"I'm crashing here tonight," I told them. "You boys should head on home. I'll call before I leave here tomorrow."
Ronin glared at me. "You know we aren't going anywhere. If you're staying then so are we. There's no reason for you to be an asshole and pretend like we'd abandon you."
Against my will, my lips twitched in amusement. The fucker didn't have to stay and he knew it. Neither of them did. They were staying to assuage their curiosity. They both knew I'd had a hard on for Maggie when she was in high school, my recent obsession with her hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone. I'd made it blatantly obvious when I'd crossed that line at Franny's funeral and wrapped her up in my arms. Her tears had made it impossible not to.
"What's going on?" Maggie called softly and all eyes went to the mouth of the hallway. Her hair had been pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. Her clothes had been switched for a short, green tank top that ended high above her belly button. He shorts were barely existent and rode low on her hips. Black ink curved around her right hip, words I couldn't make out from here. I'd have to take a closer look when she was within touching distance again.
She tipped her head towards the couch Ronin and Trip now occupied. "Why are they here, in my house?"
The words were clear, no telltale slur to them announcing she was drunk. She looked steady on her feet and I didn't think that meant good things for me.
"They go where I go," I said in a careful voice, hesitant even. She was going to kick my ass out for sure now and I'd be forced to go because I wouldn't fight with her in front of my boys. Not that they'd give a shit, but it might embarrass her, and who knew what would set her off running again. I would chase after her, there was no doubt in my mind about that now. I was obsessed, and my fixation on her grew stronger by the day, by the hour. I'd lose my fucking mind if she left.
I hadn't been like this before prison, I'd like to think I had been a slightly normal outlaw who had loose morals and a knack for violence. Something about my time inside had changed me. I'd come out a different man but had somehow still looked the same on the outside. My looks fooled a lot of people into thinking I was still that same man. It worked in my favor a lot of time. Until it didn't, mistakes were made and messes needed to be cleaned up.
"They can stay then," Maggie murmured. "But only because you promised to tell me what I want to know. If you fall back on your promise then I'm going to kick all of your asses out of here. And," she pointed a finger towards the men on the couch, "none of you assholes better drink my vodka or eat my food. I don't care if you're starving, that is not my problem."
They both looked at her with amused faces but were smart enough to keep their mouths shut. At getting no reaction out of them she shot me a dirty look and turned, sauntering back down the hallway where she'd come from. The extra sway to her hips missed the mark when she stumbled and had to catch herself against the wall to keep from falling over.
Ronin started to chuckle. Maggie flipped him off behind her back and disappeared down the hall.
"She's drunk," I informed them unnecessarily.
"That much was obvious, brother." Trip said in a quiet voice that held a hint of concern. "I always thought she was different, untouchable, not like her ma at all, ya know?"
"She is different," I said. "She's been through a lot recently though and she's taking the death of her sister really hard."
"How well do you really know her, brother?" Ronin asked in a careful voice. Careful because he didn't want to offend me. They were my boys, loyal to a fault, but I feared I hadn't hidden the depths of my changes from them. "She's been back in town, what, a week and a half? How long have you been seeing her for?"
I counted back in my head from the moment I'd laid eyes on her at the fair. "Five days," I said in a sure voice. "Though, I'm sure she would argue that we're not actually seeing each other but she would be wrong. I've decided she's mine and she'll eventually have to come to terms with it and get on board."
They both looked at me as if I'd lost my damn mind, and maybe they were right to look at me that way.
"Man," Trip said in a careful voice, "you can't just decide some chick is yours then say it's so and expect it to all work out that way. That's not exactly how shit works in the real world."
"Shut the fuck up, Trip," Ronin muttered irately. "It's not up to you what he, or anybody else for that matter, chooses to do with their love life. Fuck. Maybe we really should get out of here tonight and come back in the morning."
"I'm not going anywhere," Trip snapped back at him.
Ignoring them, I went back to the front door and locked it. This was familiar territory for the both of them and something I remembered all too well. They could argue like this for hours and eventually it could get heated to where one of them was throwing a punch at the other one.
"I'll see you idiots in t
he morning," I said as I passed through the living room and headed towards the hallway. "If you eat her shit or drink her booze just be sure to replace it before she gets up tomorrow."
They both grunted in agreement before quietly starting to argue over who got control of the television remote.
Maggie was sitting up in her bed with her back against the headboard. The comforter pooled at her waist and her arms were folded ever her chest.
"What have you done that requires you go everywhere with bodyguards?" She asked.
Ignoring her question, though I had to admit it was a smart one to ask on her part, I pulled down the straps on my shoulder rig, sliding them down my arms. Unceremoniously, I dropped both gun and holster on top of the nightstand. She watched me do this with a curious look on her face. I'd take curious over angry any day.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and dropped it down beside my gun. I unhooked my belt buckle and pulled my belt free of my jeans, rolling it up and setting it down beside the rest of my pile of shit. Grabbing ahold of the hem of my t-shirt I yanked on it and pulled it up my body, over my shoulders and off entirely. Before I'd gone down I would have tossed my shit to the floor and left it there, expecting someone else to come along and clean it up after me. Times had changed, and I'd changed with them. I folded my tee up nicely and laid it beside my growing pile.
I kept my jeans on even though sleeping in them was the last thing I wanted to do. She'd been complacent since I'd walked in here. I'd like to keep it that way.
I clicked off the lamp and pulled back the covers. She didn't protest as I slid in between the smooth sheets. A sigh of happiness escaped me as I laid back on the bed, my head landing on one of her pillows. She had the softest sheets I'd ever felt against my skin.
"Hawk," she whispered. "You promised."
I sighed as I covered my eyes with my arm.
"She was dancing," I said, and her sharp intake of breath filled the room. "At a club owned facility that my old man had used as a cover for one of his other lucrative businesses. Nobody had forced her to work there, she went looking all on her own. Ronin told me that it wasn't long after your ma died that she showed up at the clubhouse one day looking for company. And no, I don't mean the kind of company you're thinking about. She had no one, no job, was already living off of club money she'd received when your mom passed, the money she'd left both you girls that apparently you wanted nothing to do with. She showed up asking for a job and they offered her one waiting tables but she shot it down, choosing dancing instead. Out of respect for your mom and, from what I've been told, because she had been good at it, they gave her what she wanted. She excelled but apparently picked up an unfortunate habit from being around drugs all the time. She got in deep and when something my old man had set up backfired after I tried to pull my club out of it, they retaliated and shot up the entire bar where the drugs had been stored. Your sister had been working at the time and had gone down with the rest of the dancers. I have no fucking idea why you were told the clubhouse had been hit and she'd been there, and I'm trying to get down to the bottom of it but that's a lie. Still, it doesn't change the fact she got dead at a club owned place of business, and because of club bullshit."