Serving the Bad Boy: War Hawks MC

by Carmen Faye

I think he began to realize this as his warnings ceased.

  “Then I guess we better get moving,” he said, beginning to walk back toward where he had parked his car. “Ali’s corporate building is in Midtown. We need to get you there before they shut down for the day.”

  I felt excited and relieved that Graham was at least doing this much for me, but I also had a nervous pit in my stomach at the idea of meeting Tarek’s brother, boss, and benefactor. I was concerned that my earliest judgments were correct and that he was not as good a person as everyone wanted me to think.

  “What if he is not there?” I asked, suddenly realizing I had no fallback plan if Ali wasn’t around or refused to see me, or refused to help.

  “Then you try his research lab, I guess,” Graham replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I really don’t know what to tell you. All I know about Ali, I learned from the Internet, Perry Hamilton, and his men. He got more insight into the lives of the Poole brothers since the gala than anyone ever has. Once I drop you off, I’ll be making my way out of town. I doubt you’ll call me, but if you did, I would come back for you in an instant.”

  “I know you would,” I said, knowing he was sincere.

  We shared a brief hug and walked back to his car. We didn’t talk much as we drove. There wasn’t really anything left to say. Graham maneuvered the street looking almost like a ghost of himself. He was a living memory, sitting next to me.

  As we drew closer to Poole Pharmaceuticals, I began to shake. For once, it was not nervousness and hesitation as I had become accustomed to. My life had been plagued with boredom unfairly matched with anxiety. All that was gone now.

  I felt a rush.

  I could feel my cheeks reddening with heat, but not from embarrassment. I felt fueled by fire and wanted to make someone burn - specifically Ali for all that Tarek was going through and had been through in the past. I wondered if this exhilaration was what Tarek felt in his bravest moments. The thought made me more confident. I felt he would be pleased to see me ready to take charge of something.

  The building was the tallest on the block. It looked well maintained, almost new. It was massive and intimidating, with a blunted point at the very top. I imagined this to somehow be reflective of Ali. I assumed the building was a representation of his stature and presence.

  I took a few deep breaths and tried to stay positive as we drew up alongside it.

  “This is it,” Graham said, pulling into the curb. “Poole Pharmaceuticals, number 1 in everything.”

  He craned his neck, looking through the windshield at the top of the building from below. As I opened the door, he did the same.

  “Analise,” he called just before I stepped out.

  “Yes,” I said, turning back to look at him.

  “I hope everything works out for you. I am sorry things got this far.”

  I nodded and managed a warm smile.

  “You were a pawn in a game,” I told him. “All the pieces are important, even if the king is all that matters for the win.”

  He looked at me returned the smile.

  “The queen is the real power player of the game. Everyone acts in fear of her. She can win the game all by herself,” he replied.

  I leaned over the passenger seat and kissed him on the cheek. Once I got out of the car, I watched as he drove out of site.

  ***

  Tarek

  “Mr. Poole, I hope you have enjoyed your alone time. Did you look through any of Dr. Hamilton’s tools?” the redhead from the front desk said, entering the room Hamilton had left me in.

  She was attractive but in a sinister way. She looked like the comic book girlfriend of a villain, with a few screws loose of her own. Her red hair was matched by full red lips and an offset of bright green eyes. Her uniform fit snuggly and she moved like her presence was a gift to those she passed.

  In her mind, it probably was.

  “I was surprised to see there weren’t more things to burn me with, not a lot of fire play,” I said, keeping conversation until she revealed her purpose for visiting me.

  She began moving around the room, eyeing me like a tiger moving in for the kill, as she arranged supplies around the counter and bedside tables for Hamilton’s return.

  “Oh, you are thinking fire,” she said, chuckling as if I was being silly or cute with her. “No, silly. He prefers chemical burns. The marks they leave are far more interesting than classical fire.”

  “I see,” I said, shifting in my seat near the far wall.

  “That comes later though,” she said, setting a tray with a variety of sharp things on a table near the bed in the room. “First, Dr. Hamilton will want to examine you.”

  “Why do you keep saying Dr. Hamilton?”

  “He has four doctoral degrees,” she said as if it was something I should have been aware of. “He has a Doctor of Pharmacy, Medicine, Psychology, and Professional Studies. I’m Nurse Fleiss.”

  “Okay,” I said, surprised but not wanting to dwell on it. “What kind of exam is he giving me?”

  “Oh, just a checkup,” she replied, smiling and walking toward me slowly. “He’ll check your heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature.”

  I raised an eyebrow. This sounded too mundane for the man Hamilton was revealing himself to be.

  “What else?” I asked. “You are setting up way more than basic triage, Nurse Fleiss.”

  “Well.” She paused just before she reached me. “He will check your breathing. Strong lungs are important. He will also check your reflexes. Your stamina and endurance must be recorded as well. He is going to test anything he thinks pertinent.”

  “Pertinent to what? This doesn’t really seem like a medical research lab or facility,” I commented, standing and spreading my arms wide. “All I see around me is the means to torture someone. Person? Check. Torture devices? Check. Psycho who wants to torture someone? I’d say we have a giant, bold print check to that one, too.”

  I was yelling and closed the tiny gap she had left between us. She hadn’t lost her smile or flinched as I got louder. If anything, she was smiling more. She was the perfect pea to share Hamilton’s pod.

  “Is somebody not enjoying their stay at L'Hôpital de la Mort?” she asked teasingly. “Is the big bad biker man intimidated by a few needles and medical machines?”

  “I’m afraid of nothing,” I barked. “But let’s not understate the situation here.”

  “The situation here,” she replied strictly, losing her amusement,” is that you and your brother placed yourselves in opposition to the wrong man. It is a shame because you each have such potential. Your brother is some sort of medical genius. Your reputation for intimidation and combat precedes you as well. That’s not to mention the things I want to do now that I have seen you in person.”

  I stepped back at her offer. Crazy was not my type, but she stepped to match my own movement. She was as close as she ever was and attempting to touch and rub me. I continued to move, and she continued to follow.

  “I thought you and Dr. Hamilton had something going on,” I said, trying to redirect her advances.

  “He loves women. I love people,” she said, continuing her pursuit. “Neither of us likes to be limited.”

  She had my back against a wall, and I caught her by the sides of the arms just before she moved in to kiss me or bite me. Her mouth looked fixed for some combination of the two. Her fingers rounded like talons as she tried to shake my grip on her hands. I held firm and maneuvered us until she was the one by the wall.

  “Ooh,” she cooed. “I’m always on board for a man that prefers to be in charge. Put me up against the wall. Get rough. Smack me around a little.”

  She squirmed and made requests and advances, but I could feel my face expressing more and more confusion. This woman was nothing but a series of extremes, and none of them were of anything particularly good. I couldn’t help looking at her as she twisted and writhed in my hands, but it was largely out of fear of what she would do if I took my han
ds off her.

  “I do prefer to be in charge. I like to do the unexpected,” I said, weighing my options carefully as I spoke. “I may even be in the mood to get a little rough. If I have to.”

  “Oh, you have to. In fact, I came to prep you a little early in case I could get lucky and see the Tarek Poole Perry has talked so much about lately. The Poole brothers sound like opposing ends of a spectrum of a good time,” she said, picking up my change of tone. “You and I could have some savagely wild times, and Ali could use his mad science to make us all better. He could probably make us better than before in every way.”

  She slowed her speech and narrowed her eyes at me over these last syllables. I loosened my grip on her and tried to match the aroused look she was giving me, though all I felt was a little less threatened by the level of crazy.

  “Ali could probably make everyone into whatever he wanted them to be if he chose to,” I said, keeping her gaze. “I have my own, more direct, means of persuasion.”

  She was breathing heavy and smiling at my lips.

  “Have I persuaded you to anything?” she asked, looking down at my groin.

  “I think you have given me some interesting ideas,” I replied, quickly placing a hand to her throat and pressing my body into hers.

  She inhaled deeply, and I sandwiched her to the wall even more, giving her even less room. I could feel her begin to move her hips against me. With a quick turn I pulled her off the wall; in one swift motion I stepped wide and flipped her onto the bed that was prepared for me.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed, leaning up ready to attack.

  I shoved her back down with one hand on her chest and brought my face close to hers.

  “Silence,” I ordered. “You don’t talk anymore.”

  She smiled and shook her head, pursing her lips.

  “Better. I’m in charge. You have relinquished that role,” I said in a low voice, strapping a throat restraint that was built on the bed. “I should probably be quick, so Hamilton doesn’t see us like this.”

  She shrugged and tilted her head as if he wouldn’t care. If it were the sex game I wanted her to think it was, he probably really wouldn’t. In truth, this was my escape.

  I tied her left hand and leg and rubbed her thighs for a moment to continue the ruse. I grunted at the pleasure of the idea of having my freedom back as I tied her right leg and hand. She moaned at the things she thought I was readying her for.

  “Shh,” I said quick and harsh. “Not a word from you. I mean, not a single sound. I want you to see if you can be silent, no matter what happens.”

  She smiled at me.

  I began looking in the drawers and cabinets of the room. I didn’t care if she saw me leave as long as she couldn’t say anything about it. There wasn’t a lot of recovery supplies like medical tape or bandages. This wasn’t a place of healing.

  Finally, I took off the shirt I had been wearing. I glanced at Nurse Fleiss and saw her with her head rolled in my direction smiling at the sight of me. I did my best to smile back like I was interested.

  I shook the shirt open and gripped it taught in my hands. I began tearing strips of fabric, and her smile grew wider. When I approached her, she opened her mouth readily for me. I shoved wads of fabric until her cheeks were full and stretched. Then I used the longest strip I had saved to tie around her mouth, keeping everything else in place.

  I sighed, relieved by how easy she had made it. As I stepped away from the table, she continued to look at me bright eyed. I imagined she was still smiling as best as she could. I was smiling openly too.

  My hand was on the door of a room meant for my torture and possible death, and I was about to walk out without breaking a sweat or getting a scar.

  Chapter 18

  Annie

  “I need to speak with Ali Poole, please,” I said to the woman at the front desk.

  “Mr. Poole does not see unscheduled guests,” she replied without even looking up at me.

  “What makes you so certain I’m an unscheduled guest?” I asked, immediately feeling offended.

  I stepped back and looked around, debating whether it was worth it to deal with this woman or move forward and hope I got lucky.

  I thought better of it as I looked around and saw there was no wall directory of any floors, departments, or offices. There were, however, numerous cameras in the lobby and reception area. I didn’t want to miss out on my only opportunity to be face-to-face with Tarek’s brother, so storming past this woman was likely not the best move.

  “Mr. Poole never sees anyone without a meeting. His meetings rarely involve a single person, much less someone who doesn’t appear to have any files or other materials or research to present,” she said, standing to take in the full view of me over her desk. “Furthermore, your attire to meet the owner and lead scientist of our company is a little casual.”

  I was still wearing the outfit Tarek had purchased for me. While it was easily more expensive than all my clothes combined, it was far from corporate attire. It didn’t help plead my case, but it did distinguish me from being a bag lady off the streets. Perhaps she might mistake me for a wealthy friend of the Poole’s.

  “Well, I still need to speak with him. It is a matter of life and death,” I persisted.

  “If it is that important, you should probably contact a doctor or the police,” she replied, sitting back at her desk and returning to the task on her computer.

  Clearly, my appearance was not enough to deceive her.

  “Please, there has to be someone I can talk to. My name is Analise, Analise Beckwith. I’m a friend of Tarek Poole, and I was told that his brother is Ali Poole. My friend is in a lot of danger, and I believe your boss can help me,” I pleaded.

  She stared at me, unblinking. Finally, she sighed and started pressing buttons on her phone.

  “I don’t suppose you look dangerous. You better not turn out to be a crazy stalker or scorned ex-mystery woman,” she said.

  “I promise I just want his help,” I said eagerly, stepping closer to the desk.

  “Hello,” a woman’s voice said over the speaker.

  The receptionist helping me picked up the receiver and began speaking directly so that I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation.

  “A woman named Analise Beckwith is here. She says she needs to speak with Mr. Poole,” she said, pausing for the other woman to respond. “She said it is in regard to someone named Tarek Poole. She claims it is Mr. Poole’s brother and that he is in danger.”

  She was silent, and I didn’t hear the hum of the person on the other line saying anything. Then her eyes changed as she looked at me. She seemed surprised or confused.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said hesitantly as she lowered the phone back to the base.

  “May I see him? Is he available?” I asked, feeling renewed.

  “You may go upstairs and speak with his secretary, Catarina. She will decide what to do from there,” the receptionist said.

  I was a little disappointed, but I would take what I could get. This greatly lowered my impression of Ali Poole.

  “I guess I’ll take what I can get,” I said, smiling my best fake smile at the receptionist.

  She returned a fake smile of her own and said, “Top floor. Catarina will be waiting for you when you get there. You will want the elevator down the hall here to my right.”

  “Thank you,” I said, turning to begin in the direction she pointed.

  “Of course,” she said, watching me leave her desk.

  I felt like she watched me all the way to the elevator even though I knew I was no longer in her field of vision.

  There did not seem to be any important rooms on the ground floor. I passed a janitorial room, a supply room, and a restroom and break area before reaching the elevator at the end of the hall she directed me to. The interior of the building so far had been sleek and austere. The elevator was no exception.

  When I stepped inside the walls and interior were all mirrors. I
saw myself on every side in duplicate. Had Tarek been with me, it probably would have been an exciting and provocative sight. As it was, I saw the stark contrast I was to my environment.

  I felt small and out of place. I felt insecure and had begun to lose confidence in my ability to persuade Ali to intervene on his brother’s behalf. I looked at myself and saw many reflections of myself doing the same thing. I pressed a hand to my reflection, which pressed a hand back to me.

  I thought of Tarek’s strength that he thought he had gotten from the support of Ali. I compared it in my mind to the strength I saw he truly had from himself. I looked my reflection in the eye from every view possible. I stood as tall as I could and ran my hands over my hair, smoothing it as best as I could. I inhaled and felt the air filling my chest and tried to allow it to fill me with bravery.