Serving the Bad Boy: War Hawks MC

by Carmen Faye

  “Well, I can have just as much fun trying. If this proves to be unsuccessful, I still have more information on your brother from following you than ever before,” he said, moving around the room confidently. “At the very least, I think if he were pushed enough, he would offer you his cure.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, feeling myself grow uneasy.

  “Well, you looked pretty bad right now, but these injuries are all superficial and will be gone on their own soon enough,” he said, stopping his rambling around the conference room at my side again.

  He leaned close, examining my wounds. My face was a swollen throbbing mess, and I could feel bruises along my torso and ribs, but he was right. With a few days of rest, I would be strong as I ever was.

  “You planning to work me over until he has to choose between giving you what you want and letting me die,” I said, understanding his true end game. “I’m sure you would surprise me in a fight, but I think I could take you.”

  He laughed.

  “A fight?” he asked, still laughing at my expense. “A man like me does not fight. I kill. I poison, stab, slit throats, push people out of windows or go full blackout crazy, but I do not fight. That’s not what I need anyway.”

  I felt more curious about Hamilton’s sanity and eyed him cautiously as his maniacal smile returned.

  “What do you need?” I asked, feeling it might be in my best interest to prepare myself.

  “I need to systematically torture you, Tarek,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and hands. “I need to keep you alive and in agony. I need flesh wounds as well as deep cuts, gashes, and severe burns. I need internal damage that keeps you writhing in pain but won’t bring you the sweet release of death. As part of being the bait, you will also become Man 2. You will need immediate treatment allowing proof that he has brought me the true substance I seek. You will also be the first of many similar patients, all currently waiting for your brother’s care. I will deny them any other treatment.”

  “Many similar patients already waiting? You have been seriously wounding people to force my brother’s hand?” I called out with disbelief. “You truly are insane. How many lives are you willing to endanger to secure the lives of the rich?”

  “As many as it takes as long as they keep paying me. Lives like yours are literally worthless,” Hamilton said, gesturing to the door.

  Suddenly several men with guns began filing into the room, circling the table. Hamilton stood in place and smiled as they poured in. He smiled at them. He smiled at me. He smiled his crooked smile at life, feeling he had already won. As far as I could tell, it was possible he had. I counted a dozen total, all with their weapons aimed at my head and chest.

  I knew that Ali wouldn’t come for just me, but if Hamilton had endangered the lives of as many as he was hinting, I didn’t see how he could avoid it, not with a clear conscience.

  “I trust I have enough men here for you to just come along quietly this time, right?” Hamilton said, looking at me with that awful smile.

  I didn’t respond. I simply stood up and began making my way toward the door. The men parted and let me pass. Two men waiting at the elevator pressed the button once they saw me exit the conference room. By the time I reach their end of the hall, the doors were open, and they were waiting inside.

  One of Hamilton’s security that had been behind me nudged me into the elevator with a tap from the back of his gun to the back of my head. I stepped forward into the lift and eyed him with annoyance. He gave a small smile, pleased to give me a hard time. Hamilton lifted a hand to steady him and anyone else who had their own ideas for me. Then, he joined the two guards and me in the elevator.

  He was truly a strange man. The muzak in the elevator began a new song as the doors closed and he began to hum along. As it continued, he began to sing the melody that went with the instrumental. His men seemed unfazed, used to their boss’s behavior. Although his voice was pleasant, the entire situation made me feel uneasier.

  I was used to dealing with all kinds of situations and all types of people, but I had never met a man who took this much pleasure in toying with human life. I wondered if he was as much of a masochist as he was a sadist.

  I was certain, if he got his hands on Ali’s miracle drug, I would have ample opportunity to find out.

  Our elevator reached the bottom floor, and Hamilton was the first to step out of the door. There was no hesitation. He knew his men would wait. I, on the other hand, was given another nudge, even though I had only paused a moment before getting off to see which direction Hamilton would go.

  He and his men led me through the lobby. Despite a beaten man being held at gunpoint in their midst, the few employees we passed seemed to think nothing of the presence of myself or the guards.

  “Afternoon, Mr. Hamilton,” said one.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said another, looking up from his files just in time to step out of the way.

  “Hold my calls,” Hamilton called, as we passed the front desk.

  “Yes, sir,” the woman at the desk replied with a nod.

  She looked at me briefly, and then quickly darted her eyes away. Unlike the others, she reacted to my grotesque appearance. She held her breath and did all she could to keep her focus on the computer screen in front of her until we passed. I didn’t look back to see whether she had the nerve to look once more.

  I wondered how people ended up working for men like Hamilton. I knew now that it was a question of people being paid enough or afraid enough to keep their mouth shut. For many people in that building I imagined it was the former, but at least for the woman at the front desk, it was the latter.

  Once we were outside, Hamilton came to a stop a few feet from the door. I slowed my pace and stopped just behind him. The men from the elevator waited behind me.

  After a moment, a chauffeured vehicle pulled to a stop with the back door perfectly in line with Hamilton. The driver left the car running as he exited and came around to let his employer in. The guards escorted me around to the other side. One man entered. The other shoved me in and then entered the car behind me.

  “Gentlemen, I believe young Mr. Poole has been more than cooperative,” Hamilton said after the driver returned to the front. “You can lower your guns. Your presence is protection enough.”

  “You really are confident in your little plan, aren’t you,” I asked. “You didn’t blindfold me or anything.”

  “Yes, I am,” he replied as casual as ever. “Why shouldn’t I be, when I know that my chances of failure are so slim? I know that there is nothing that can get in my way at this point. Whether you see where I am taking you is of little consequence. You won’t be leaving there alive.”

  “I thought you said that you needed to keep me alive as part of your plan to use me for bait? Now, you’re talking about killing me?” I barked. “I thought you want me to be Man 2, the second human test subject to ensure you received what you were hoping for if my brother actually did show up?”

  “Yes, but I only need bait until your brother arrives, and once I see the desired result, there is no further reason to keep you,” he said dismissively. “Your brother is the true brains and talent, and I may not even have the need for him once the cure is in my hands.”

  “What about the others you mentioned? Are you going to kill them all too?” I asked.

  “I hadn’t decided,” he said, looking like he was debating his options on the matter. “On one hand, I could look like a hero saving a few hundred innocent people, all being held captive and tortured. Then again, no one knows about them, so I can just as easily continue to have my sport with them long after you are gone, taking pleasure in painfully killing them one by one.”

  “You are truly cruel,” I said, spitting at him as I finished.

  He looked wounded by my words and made a face like he was having a change of heart.

  “You are right. That would be cruel,” he said, nodding and seeming pained by his own actions. “Instead, I should
just keep your brother alive somewhere, using his healing remedy on him, so I can bring him near death again and again. That would truly make him pay for coming into my industry and taking my customers, and money from my pocket.”

  Chapter 16

  Annie

  “The Poole brothers moved here for college. You’d never know it, but your friend Tarek was among the highest in his class. He came to America already knowing four languages, and he was the slacker of the two,” Graham said. “Ali graduated with dual degrees and dual minors, all things chemistry and medicine. Tarek was on track to do the same, but left college early before getting any of his degrees.”

  We grabbed a bite at Forlini’s and were taking a walk around Columbus Park. There were a few people jogging, now that it was later in the day. A few moms were out with strollers. The area carried the scent of a variety of Asian cuisine.

  “How do you know?” I asked, surprised at Tarek’s possible semi-charmed background.

  “Well, there isn’t a lot out there about the two of them together. But once the name Poole started coming up so much when Hamilton would speak to the one or two people he deemed worth his time at events, and his favors began getting riskier with worse results, I began to get curious. I learned what I could about the man paying me to do things, the people he was interested in and spent his time with, and what those people did,” Graham explained.

  “Okay, unfold that for me because you just packed a lot in. How did you and Hamilton even get started?” I asked.

  “He enjoyed the food one night at a restaurant I was working for and wanted to thank the chef,” he replied. “He thought that my restaurant didn’t reflect my nuance with flavor to the world. Once I told him it wasn’t my place, he asked if it wanted to earn the money to have something even better. At the time I thought I would have been a fool to say no.”

  We found a bench away from where most of the people were walking. It was downwind of the trash, but even that smelled like aging food. We sat; Graham had his legs stretched and kept his hands wedged deep in his pockets. I sat with my arms wrapped around myself, feeling a chill even though there wasn’t the slightest breeze.

  “Okay, so when did the favors begin?” I asked, guiding him through giving me the details.

  He sighed heavily, and then said, “He offered me a catering job.”

  “What?” I asked, shocked. “That’s not a favor. That’s just giving you work.”

  “He booked the job with specific people as guests,” he said, shaking his head. “It was basically a meet and greet to have other people book with me. They were all wealthy friends of his that were business owners, politicians, and committees of this and that. Thinking about it now, several of them were tied hosting many of the events he needed access to. He’d be invited, but there would always need to be a uniform left somewhere or a door or key left available. At first, I hoped it was just rich man philandering. Occasionally it was, but not usually.”

  “I don’t even want to think about that,” I said, shuddering at the suggestion he had made earlier about my various uses.

  “That seems to be a way of life among our wealthier counterparts. I can’t count how many events we have had where I have walked in on guests in the coatroom. Many of the hosts plan these things in a way strictly to afford them opportunities to sneak around with lovers or meet new ones,” Graham continued.

  “Well, I wouldn’t question that,” I replied. “I have even seen them in service areas with our staff a few times.”

  “Couldn’t say I wouldn’t want to risk getting caught with you somewhere,” he teased.

  I smiled weakly.

  “Don’t worry, I know,” he said, bobbing his head with distaste. “You still don’t have any feelings for me in that way.”

  He seemed disappointed. Anyone who took the time to look in our direction at that moment could probably see and feel the tension between us. It was awkward and uncomfortable. I shifted in my seat, and he looked in every direction, but mine.

  “You are keeping hope alive for your foreigner turned rebel without a clue what he’s involved in,” he said softly. “You do have feelings for him, don’t you?”

  He faced me now. I was surprised by his question and turned my head to face him quickly. I blushed and turned away.

  “That says it all,” he replied. “I never stood a chance. I don’t know if I was too safe for you or if you really just never considered it because I was your boss, but I will always wish you would have given me a chance.”

  “Graham, I don’t even know what to say,” I began. “You have always been a great guy, and there are a million and one great reasons to be with you, but, no, I have just never felt the spark that made me want to take that step.”

  He nodded, seeming to understand, but looked away again. He looked more upset than about anything else we had discussed.

  “Well, of all the people I researched, I suppose Ali and Tarek’s secrets weren’t the worst of what I saw,” he said, changing the subject. “Like I said, Ali seemed to be a good guy overall. There is very little to be found on Tarek.”

  “Ah, yes,” I said, glad he had ended the awkwardness on his own. “You researched Tarek and Ali? What do you know about them? I thought they had a hard life growing up. Tarek said he and Ali both grew up without a father. I know now their fathers were the same man.”

  “Well, that was true, but they didn’t suffer. I don’t remember where they are from, but they area of Arabic decent. I think they are from Palestine, near Jerusalem,” he said. “I guess if they didn’t have a father, there might have been some hardships they would have faced. I know there has been trouble in that region, so that’s not to say that they haven’t seen some terrible things in life.”

  I nodded as he continued and tried to imagine how Tarek might have grown up. Over the past few days, I had imagined him poor and dirty with an older brother who tried to be there for him, but a somewhat troubled friend that he bonded with more. Now, I knew at least part of that idea was incorrect.

  The friend and the brother were one. It seemed he might have also had more amenities, even luxuries, than people I would have previously considered to be in a better position.

  “I don’t know much about their life other than the things that helped them get ahead once they were here,” Graham said. “They spoke Arabic, naturally, but they also spoke English, French, Italian, and Spanish. They grew up overseas but attended university here. Ali seems to be private, but a climber. Tarek, well, I imagine you might know better than me. I do know they seem to always stay connected, no matter where they live or what they do.”

  “So, they could manage just about anywhere?” I replied.

  “Could they ever. Their mother paid for their tuition, but they each managed to get a few grants and scholarships after the first year. She also gave them each a stipend to invest once they reached a certain age,” he said with a touch of envy. “Tarek had a better opportunity to start than most, he didn’t take advantage of his opportunities.”

  He took his hands out of his pockets and pulled his legs to a proper seated position. He hunched forward and rested his elbows on his knees. I could tell he was thinking of how his life might have been.

  “Graham,” I said softly.

  He looked at me, this time seeming to see me clearly. He did not see any false hope of a relationship. He saw my desire for answers. He saw that I just wanted him to tell me anything he knew that might be useful.

  “Right,” he said, returning to our conversation. “Well, Ali eventually came up in a few photos for Poole Pharmaceuticals and I knew that Hamilton was in that industry and had mentioned that company a couple of times. Then I started to read about the competition between their products.”

  “That is when you began to look at Ali more thoroughly, I imagine,” I said.

  “Yes, I noticed that many reviews comparing their products favored Poole. His products were always released sooner and rated higher. He had good policies with insu
rance companies and doctors alike and rarely produced anything with detrimental side effects,” Graham said, acknowledging Ali’s accolades. “I began to read about Ali himself; humble beginnings in America, a student who became a pharmacist and then pharmaceutical researcher. It seems even after opening his own pharmaceutical company he preferred researching to board meetings.”

  “How did you come to learn he had a brother?” I asked.

  “Well, I overheard something at a party one night. There was a mystery guest no one knew. Eventually, one partygoer identified him as the younger brother of the elusive Ali Poole. His claim to the insider info was that he attended Columbia with them,” Graham said. “I contacted the alumni office, registrar’s office, and a few other campus administrative offices before getting a straight answer, but it was true.”