Serving the Bad Boy: War Hawks MC

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Serving the Bad Boy: War Hawks MC Page 7

by Carmen Faye


  I faced the counter and put down the honey and syrup. Then I looked to Tarek. He was gazing down at me, looking as cautious as he had when we went to the Underground.

  “Well, my loan for my business, I told you how I’m doing favors as part of a repayment?” he began.

  “Yes, sort of bodyguard for hire or tough guy for hire,” I replied, revealing my limited understanding.

  “Something like that,” he said, nodding and turning to face me fully. “It’s not necessarily for a good cause. The guy I work for is involved in some pretty bad things. He doesn’t even realize how bad some of the things he is involved in are; he just knows keeping the right people happy keeps his bank account growing exponentially.”

  “Well, what does he need you for then?” I asked, beginning to feel a little less trusting. “If he’s up to something that’s no good, why don’t you at least get yourself out of it?”

  “We go way back. I can’t leave him to go down alone, and he needs me because his work creates a lot of enemies. He needs to know someone he can trust is looking out for him,” he replied, becoming defensive.

  “So your life is worth his when clearly he doesn’t value you the same?” I asked, growing more frustrated seeing that he was frustrated by my response. “I don’t see him risking anything but money for you, and apparently he has enough of that. What he gave you is probably only a drop in the bucket.”

  “You don’t know what he thinks,” he said, getting louder. “You don’t know what he has saved me from and how we have taken care of each other. There weren’t always fancy apartments, houses, and lofts everywhere that I could bounce around to. There weren’t always men with guns and bad tempers, but there were always men fighting, pulling the strings of the rest of us.”

  “So all these places you have been taking me belong to him? They belong to the guy you work for that lent you money to start your business?” I asked, getting just as loud as he was and finishing even louder.

  He stepped away from me, looking away from me. We were getting angrier at each other by the minute.

  “So what if they do?” he asked.

  “So, maybe he is setting you up,” I said, trying to speak calmly. “Maybe he is the reason for the gala and the people following you to the penthouse. Maybe he is behind everything, playing both sides and placing people like you to take the fall or worse.”

  “He was at the TRU Body Gala. In fact, he was an organizer and committee chair member,” Tarek replied. “He wouldn’t sacrifice his own work.

  “No, just you, it seems,” I argued.

  Stop saying that, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, shaking his head and walking away from me. “I want to tell you everything, but right now I can’t. It seems like what I am telling you, is making my arrangement sound worse. He has something or someone that needs to be dealt with, so I step in and make sure that his name stays out of it.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t accepted reality. Maybe he did do a lot for you, once upon a time. Maybe you have even been through a lot, and he equally protected you, but even then a real friend would care enough not to want you to repay him by putting yourself in just as much danger,” I concluded, folding my arms and turning my attention back to the food.

  I was suddenly less hungry and had no desire to prepare anything for anyone else either. He had made his way out of the kitchen area and came back while my back was turned.

  “What about the balance between us? I save you, you save me? Seems like we have been keeping score,” he said, trying ineffectively to prove his point.

  “No, I saved you and then you told me the safest thing was for me to come with you. I didn’t know you, but I listened and have had nothing but trouble since. I thought the taking turns thing was a joke. Some things we should do because we care, we are human, or simply because it is right. There is no score to keep,” I said. “So much for adventure and fate.”

  I left him in the kitchen and returned to the bedroom. I didn’t want to talk anymore. My first thought was to gather my things and leave, but other than the server uniform I had been wearing I didn’t have anything. I had no money or phone, and I was losing the one person I had started this journey with.

  Tarek opened the door and came into the room as well. He seemed less angry. His body language seemed nervous and maybe even apologetic. Seeing him trying to make an effort encouraged me to be more willing to do the same.

  “You have been thrust into a lot with people you don’t know. I have been in the middle of a lot of things my entire life. We view some things differently and other things can’t be made fully clear, but we still have a problem to deal with now,” he said in a flat tone.

  I nodded my agreement.

  “We can discuss whatever you want later, but some things are better explained when seen with our own eyes,” he continued.

  “What are you going to show me?” I asked.

  “My world outside of all this,” he said, gesturing at our lavish surroundings and making a face. “We can get something to eat, fresh clothes, and regroup?”

  “That sounds fine,” I said.

  I kept my arms folded in front of me, and Tarek maintained his distance, but I had the feeling he hoped his offer would ease the tension between us. I needed to see what came of this step into his world.

  ***

  Tarek

  “You’ve basically become a pro at the whole motorcycle thing, huh?” I asked Annie over my shoulder.

  “I know how to hold on while someone else drives,” she replied.

  There had been an unpleasant tension between us since I had tried to explain my involvement in the recent events. I could tell she was still angry with me, although my own frustration with her had subsided.

  I realized her words with me were her way of voicing concerns, but I hadn’t figured out how to mend things between us.

  We made our way around New York, picking up breakfast at Bubby’s and getting a change of clothes at J. Crew Liquor Store and A Uno Tribeca. Then we made the drive to Long Island.

  “I didn’t expect such a long ride,” Annie said when we finally arrived at Massapequa. “That was amazing.”

  “Yeah, the real rush is when you get to take a real ride, a planned route that is scenic with good curves. There is nothing quite like it. You become the road and all you see,” I replied, walking toward the bar and restaurant.

  “Are we stopping to eat again before we get back on the road?” she asked. “Looks like you picked a pretty good place. Do you come here a lot?”

  “I’m here all the time,” I replied. “Mostly everyone is. Massapequa isn’t necessarily much of a tourist town. We have a little over twenty thousand people, so everyone is a regular to some extent. We all support the local businesses because we want to keep it the way it is.”

  “That’s a sweet thought. Must be a tight-knit community,” she said approvingly.

  “I think so,” I replied, waving at people as we entered the restaurant.

  Some people greeted me by name; others smiled or waved or nodded their head. Annie was given an eager greeting as well. It had been a long time since anyone had seen me with a woman in tow. She still didn’t seem to grasp that this was my town, my place.

  “Well, if you come here all the time, what do you recommend?” she asked.

  “I’ll get the owner to make his specialty,” I said, pointing her toward an empty table.

  “Hey, Tarek,” one of the waitresses called as I was making my way through to the kitchen. “We’ve missed you, and stayed busy as you can see. There’s a lot of mail for you to go through, but it’s on your desk. We made sure to weed through all the junk mail. There is also a sheet where we kept all your messages that came to the main line that didn’t want to be sent to voicemail.”

  “Sounds like you all have been on top of things, Trisha. Thanks. I’m just here to get a bite and show a friend around. If you would send a couple of beers to table 16 for us, I would appreciate it.
” I called back.

  “You got it, Boss,” she said, before greeting a group of women that had just walked in.

  Before passing through the doors of the kitchen, I took another look at Annie. She didn’t see me; she was too busy taking in her surroundings. She looked at the wall decorations and examined the menu and seemed pleased overall.

  Once I was in the kitchen, the back of the house staff greeted me warmly but didn’t have time to chat. We had arrived during the lunch rush, so they had a lot of orders to fill. I helped them get ahead on a few things as I prepared food for Annie and me. I was in and out of the kitchen in about ten minutes and returned to find Annie talking to some of the guests seated around her.

  “You didn’t tell me I was walking into this place with the owner and a local celebrity,” she chided as I set our food on the table.

  “Well, I don’t know I was a local celebrity,” I replied.

  “This looks delicious. Kabobs, spiced oysters, glazed shrimp, and vegetables – I don’t know if I can eat all this,” Annie said, her eyes growing wide at the sight of the food. “How is the guy that I have been with for almost two days in peril the same man as the one sitting in front of me that owns a restaurant and cooks like a dream?”

  “Because this is the life I want, and this is the life the loan built for me. I owe everything to be able to keep my piece of happiness,” I replied.

  “So is the tough guy biker persona part of that deal?” she asked, seeming to, at least, be trying to understand.

  At least the conversation didn’t seem to upset her this time.

  “That’s just it, it’s just a persona role, but it’s one that society perceives, not necessarily one that I am,” I explained.

  “You have a one percent patch,” she said, pointing it out on my jacket.

  “I am a one percenter, but we aren’t all criminals,” I replied. “The only bad things I or any of my guys have done has been to settle the score with people who have taken care of us in hard times. We have our own laws and we live by them, but the highest laws are about fraternity and philanthropy. There are times where our laws and societal laws don’t see eye to eye, but War Hawk law, man’s law, outranks the rest.”

  She nodded, and we ate in silence for a few minutes. She looked around again, taking in the people and the place. Then she took a large bite and stared at me. I had just eaten a pineapple stuffed jalapeno off a kabob.

  “I can’t say that I haven’t felt there were things the law was wrong about or times where doing the right thing meant needing to do something wrong as well,” she said finally.

  “So you understand then?” I asked, hoping things between us could begin to return to the way they were.

  “I don’t necessarily agree to the extent things have gone between you and whoever you are dealing with, but I understand in theory,” she said hesitantly. “I still think maybe you should talk to them about your arrangement. You almost died, and it probably wasn’t the first time. You can’t be in debt with your life forever, and this place is probably doing well enough that you are probably making solid progress paying off your debt.”

  “Maybe, but either way, do you understand that he did everything he knew how to for me, so I am doing everything I know how to do for him?” I asked.

  She nodded and gave me the first smile that had truly been directed at me since this morning.

  “I do,” she said. “In a way, your side of things is kind of poetic, romantic even. There’s an honor to it. You are a man who literally has a code and lives by it. You never leave a damsel in distress and fight alongside your brethren. You’re still a bad boy, though, a sort of anti-hero rebel with a cause.”

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment,” I replied.

  “You should. I’d prefer a knight on a shining motorcycle any day,” she replied, winking at me as she took a sip of her beer.

  “Well, here I am,” I replied, having some of my own beer as well. “We’ll take our time today. We can eat and relax. My house isn’t far; we’ll stay there tonight. No one knows where it is except my brother and locals.”

  “Do I get to meet your brother while we are here? Whoa, did that sound clingy? Sorry, I really didn’t mean it like that at all,” Annie said awkwardly.

  “Relax, I knew what you meant, but no. My brother does not live in Massapequa. You wouldn’t want to meet him anyway. I don’t imagine you two would get along,” I said, hoping to close the matter.

  “Well, I like you pretty well. Are you two very different? Do you not get along?” she asked me.

  “We are really different. We are night and day different, but we get along,” I replied. “We are brothers. We will always take care of each other.”

  “Yeah, but, there is a difference between taking care of each other and caring for each other,” she said, looking concerned again.

  “Our dad wasn’t around, and our mother worked very hard to make sure we could grow up to have a better life. We loved her and will always be grateful, but our time was spent together. We have each other,” I said, probably more firmly than I intended.

  Annie and I didn’t talk about anything heavy for the rest of the meal. Instead, we talked about how I blended motorcycles and decorations from so many places into a cohesive restaurant theme that still reflected Oyster Bay staples and locally grown items. I told her about interesting trails I had ridden around the world and she told me about different vacations and trips she had with her dad.

  We made the brief ride from Fender Bender to my home at Massapequa Cove. I had hoped tonight would be similar to the last, but I didn’t expect much.

  “Today has been good overall, but I’m kind of tired,” Annie said, once we were inside.

  “Fair enough,” I replied, grasping her true meaning. “I’m going to grab a beer and a shower. The house has three bedrooms, and each of them has its own private bath. My room is here on the first floor. Feel free to stay in whichever room you like upstairs. Help yourself to the kitchen. If you need anything, just call me.”

  “Thanks, I should be fine,” she said, giving me a small wave before making her way upstairs.

  Chapter 8

  Annie

  “Did you sleep okay?” Tarek asked, hearing me coming down the stairs.

  “Well, honestly, I didn’t sleep a lot, but the bed was comfortable,” I admitted. “I actually preferred it to either of the beds I have been in the past two nights.”

  “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, moving into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. “Would you like some coffee?”

  He tipped the pot in my direction and nodded toward a carousel of mugs on the counter.

  “Why not. I seem to need energy for all sorts of things these days,” I said, twirling the carousel.

  It had one tier that was a set of matching cups, but the two tiers above it all looked like novelty cups that were bad gifts. I took one of the plain cups, although Tarek was drinking from a novelty cup that read: Let Me Drop Everything and Work on Your Problems.

  “You can use any cup you like,” he said, gesturing with his cup for me to pick one of the comical mugs.

  “This is fine. I don’t know that I want my cup to say too much about me,” I replied, hoping my refusal came across in a friendly manner.

  “Right now, I would say your plain cup matches the woman you described yourself as before, but not the woman I have been getting to know,” he said, analyzing the cup I had selected to avoid being analyzed. “It’s a perfectly good cup, but it’s a cup that is part of a set, one like the other. You have been a girl who saw herself as one of many and didn’t try to stand out.”

  “Okay, well pick a cup for me then,” I said, encouraging his conclusion of me. “Select a cup for me, so I know how you think of me.”

  “Gladly,” he said, looking at the cups on the stand.

  Finally, he grabbed a plain, solid black mug and poured coffee into it. As he handed it to me, I saw that one side appeared
to unzip revealing a different color.

  “What’s this supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “That is you. There is what is on the outside and then the magic on the inside. I think you are starting to see the magic. I have only known you since the zipper began to come down,” he replied. “The new you would be the vibrant mug that has always been inside, but you are only now allowing to show.”

  His assessment was sweet, or at least I took that to be his intention. I really did feel different since the attack so he may have been on to something. I hoped whatever was changing in me would last after this was all over. I wondered if Tarek would be around once things were over.

  We were quiet, and things were pleasant between us as I added sugar to my coffee. I was never a fan of creamer, but Tarek didn’t seem to be either. He didn’t have any on the counter and didn’t offer any that might have been in the fridge.

 

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