‘Dealing unauthorised drugs in a Family club is how you get yourself killed. I’m gonna let you off with a warning this time but if I catch you in any of my clubs again, I’ll kill you.’
With nothing left to say, he turned to leave the room but Luke found his tongue.
‘Can I still join your Family?’
Hawk turned back and cocked his head in exaggerated thoughtfulness, pissed off at the teen’s arrogance and lack of apology.
‘Why should I consider you for my Family?’
‘I’m a hard worker and a quick learner, I’ll do anything you want me to do and…’
Hawk held up his hand.
‘Kid, this isn’t a job interview. I have no use for you. Now do yourself a favor and get out of my face.’
‘You have to let me join or I’ll go to the cops.’
Hawk took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. Why couldn’t the stupid kid have kept his mouth shut? He moved towards Luke, grabbed his shirt and yanked him up so that his feet were dangling in the air, his face inches from Hawk’s. The confidence across Luke’s face was replaced with fear as Hawk’s mismatched eyes locked onto Luke’s brown eyes.
‘I own the fucking cops.’
He head butted Luke unconscious and let the body slump to the ground.
‘Get him out of here.’
No sooner had Hawk stepped outside the office than he was approached by a blonde, who introduced herself and told him she’d seen him there before. His cell rang and he dismissed the woman with a wave. It was one of his soldiers calling from the Mason owned strip club known as The Den.
‘That group of guys you asked us to look out for are here. What do you want me to do Captain?’
‘I’m on my way.’
He raced across the city on his black Ninja and pulled up at the end of the street where The Den was located. From his vantage point, he was able to scope out the street while remaining inconspicuous. He took his time taking off his helmet and spotted a black Chrysler parked three cars down from The Den’s entrance. The windows were dark but not dark enough to obstruct his view of the four men inside. It was almost two in the morning and the street was close to deserted, which meant that that was the car waiting for the boys.
He cradled his helmet under his left arm, leaving his leather jacket on and his right hand free to grab the Beretta at the small of his back. He stalked towards the club, his boots thumping against the pavement and announcing his presence. If the thugs in the Chrysler were thinking of doing the hit in his venue, there was no way they’d dare to with him there. Before he reached the front door he approached the driver, who was leaning against the car.
‘You waiting for someone?’
The man dropped his cigarette and before he was able to plaster on his poker face, Hawk registered a blink of recognition in his eyes. But he recovered quickly and shook his head.
‘I don’t smoke in my car man, custom seats cost a fucking fortune.’
Hawk didn’t respond. He reached The Den and stopped in front of the entrance to shake hands with his soldier and ask if the group was still inside, not bothering with small talk. The soldier led the way into the club and nodded towards a group of boys sitting in a booth towards the back. Hawk dropped down onto an empty stool, placed his helmet on the bar and turned to face the group. He’d just leant back on his elbows when the bartender asked if she could get him anything. The women who worked in Mason establishments knew better than to try and hit on him.
‘Just water.’
She handed him the glass and he took it without breaking his gaze at the table across the floor. There were three boys, although the soldier had told him there were another six glued to the stage and one in the private booths. Hawk wasn’t concerned with the boys by the stage as his gut told him it was one of the other four that had the hit on their head. They looked straight laced to him and he wondered what they’d done to make someone want to kill them. He could tell they were young, early twenties the three of them, and the loud one with the short blond hair throwing back a beer seemed to be the leader of the pack.
The soldier approached Hawk and leant on the bar.
‘It’s a buck’s night for the one in the booths.’
He then left to make another round of the club. Hawk considered the leader of the pack again as the boy wolf whistled at the stage before leaning forward and making some sort of bet with his friends. He was tall and toned and Hawk couldn’t help but think he’d make a good Mason soldier. He seemed familiar, but Hawk came across a lot of people and it was more than likely he’d seen the boy in a club.
It was clear he was the best man and Hawk found himself turning towards the private booths and wondering what the groom was like. Was it possible the groom was someone he knew and that was why the best man seemed familiar? But he stopped himself from over thinking it. He didn’t have time to consider who they were and if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t care. They’d overstayed their welcome and he had to get them out of there. As he approached the table, the two boys grew quiet and apprehensive, while the best man didn’t seem to notice until Hawk was standing right behind him.
‘Alright boys I think you’ve partied enough. How about you round up your friends and go find a couple of cabs.’
It wasn’t a request. The best man looked up at him.
‘Shit man you’re huge!’
‘So I’ve been told. You having a good night?’
‘Hell yes! It’s my brother’s bucks, twenty two and already tying the knot, can you believe it? Kid’s crazy. I’m Austin by the way.’
Austin extended his hand and Hawk gave it a firm shake. He didn’t seem to notice that Hawk neglected to reveal his own name. He never introduced himself. His reputation preceded him and if someone didn’t know him, there was a good reason for that.
‘Start gathering up your friends so that when your boy gets back you can head on home. Take him back to his missus in one piece.’
He expected them to argue or beg him to let them stay but instead they nodded and Austin told him they’d do just that. Hawk clapped him on the back and went to take his seat at the bar, waiting for them to leave. He was willing to give them another ten minutes but he wanted them out. He didn’t know how long the men outside had been waiting and the last thing he felt like was a shootout and a morning of burying bodies. Still, he wasn’t a heartless bastard, and the thought that one of those boys was going to get killed frustrated him.
As the manager of The Den strode out of his office and approached him, Hawk noticed the curtain to one of the private booths pull back. He didn’t bother taking a look at the buck as he walked back to his friends; he had no desire to put a face on a possible dead man walking. Instead he decided to go with the manager back to his office. He didn’t talk to club managers unless he was collecting money or there was a problem. Since the manager had paid Honor earlier in the night, the man was nervous and he stumbled on his words as he explained the state of the club.
Hawk half listened as the manager started to sweat, moving from one file cabinet to another and pulling out security reports that Hawk had seen direct from his soldiers. He was watching the clock and after ten minutes, he nodded that he was satisfied with the manager’s work and left. The group of boys were gone and as he was leaving, he called Ty to confirm if all the money runs had been completed. He’d felt bad leaving Ty to do the runs on his own. Ty hated clubs as much as he did, and he was much more than Hawk’s second in command, he was the closest thing he had to a brother.
He patted the soldier standing at the door on the back and turned down the street to head to his Ninja. He’d hung up the phone when he heard yelling and crying from the alley two blocks up from the club. He walked past the entrance and didn’t bother stopping. The shot rang out and cut through the night.
I
Five year old Hawk held his mother’s hand as they walked down the hospital corridor. They were there to see the new baby and when he had said he nee
ded to go to the bathroom, everyone except his mother had gone ahead. As they were walking, he wondered how long they had to stay. He wanted to go outside and play.
When his mother knocked on the door, he moved to stand behind her. Even though they saw the Hannam family twice a week, he was always shy when he first walked in. His mother entered the room, apologized for being late and gave him a little tug. He looked at everyone from behind her legs and saw his father standing to the side of the room talking to Tony while the older children stood between them arguing over who the baby loved more. He was bored, who cared about the baby, it wasn’t like she could play with them yet.
Between them and the bed stood Santina’s sister, cradling a tired Dante on her hip and trying to stop him from launching himself at his mother. He was sucking his thumb and when she pulled it out of his mouth, his bottom lip started to quiver and she started cooing, telling him to look at his new sister and wasn’t she cute. Hawk could tell that Dante didn’t care, he wasn’t paying attention to the baby, trying instead to get someone, anyone, to pay attention to him. Hawk and his sisters were so close in age that none of them had experienced jealousy when the next one was born.
‘Come on baby, don’t be shy, come meet Aurora.’
His mother greeted Santina’s sister and took her spot beside the bed, holding his hand and helping him get a proper look at Aurora. She was so small, bundled in layers, one little hand poking out at the top with a finger resting on her nose. Her eyes were closed and her skin was a warm shade of pink. She looked like a doll and he wasn’t sure if she was real until he saw her chest move as she breathed.
‘Dad, can we go play outside?’
Johnny interrupted Tony and Mario mid conversation. Instead of being annoyed, Tony looked relieved and turned to his sister-in-law, asking if she wouldn’t mind taking the kids out to the garden. As soon as she said yes, the children ran out of the room. Dante’s aunt helped him down, then took his hand and left. But Hawk didn’t want to play outside anymore.
‘Don’t you want to go play with the others sweetheart?’
His mother was looking down at him and he shook his head, pulling her hand so that she’d lower her head enough for him to whisper in her ear. He wanted to hold the baby. She told him he had to ask Santina so he took a deep breath.
‘Can I hold Aurora please?’
He made sure to say her name so that he sounded more responsible, and to his surprise, Santina smiled and said yes. His mother helped him sit in the armchair in the corner of the room while his father and Aurora’s parents watched, then she surrounded him with pillows while he dangled his feet off the end.
It was annoying having everyone stare at him, he hated being the centre of attention, but then, when his mother placed Aurora in his arms, it all became worth it. He could hear the adults talking and knew they were still watching but he didn’t care. There were so many pillows and layers of blankets around her that he couldn’t feel her. He made sure he wouldn’t drop her and touched the back of her hand. Then something special happened. Aurora yawned, twisted her hand so she could wrap her fingers around his, and opened her eyes.
‘She likes you.’
It was his father who spoke, but Hawk didn’t look away. Her eyes were green, a dark poison ivy, and even though his mother told him that babies eyes changed, he knew her eyes would stay that color.
‘Can she see me?’
‘No sweetheart, not yet.’
He nodded, knowing that even though she couldn’t see him, she knew who he was and she would remember him the next time he held her, and each time after that.
‘I won’t let anybody ever hurt her.’
He didn’t know where the protective urge had come from, but as the adults laughed, he knew he meant what he said. Aurora needed someone to look after her and he wanted to be that someone. That was when their fairytale began.
Four
Aurora woke to find herself covered with a blanket. She looked around, rubbed the sleep from her eye and realized she had fallen asleep in the theatre room. Her nightmares had been intense and even though she was awake, she still felt a tingling fear in the back of her mind. She checked her watch; it was just past four in the morning. The selection menu of the movie was up on the screen, letting her know that Vince had either fallen asleep too, or had left before the end. Since she was alone, she assumed it was the latter and stretched her legs with a groan. She yawned and pulled the blanket up to her chin, getting ready to go back to sleep when cries erupted from the second floor lounge room. She struggled to untangle herself from the blanket, stumbling as she tried to run up the stairs and swearing as she landed on her knees. What the hell was going on?
Bursting into the foyer she raced up the staircase and down the hall only to freeze at the double doors. Her entire family was in the room. Dante was slumped on a couch with his head in his hands but looked up at her when she walked in. His eyes were blood shot and wet with unshed tears. He was still in his clothes from the night before and even from that distance she could smell the alcohol on his breath and see the bite marks on his neck, the telltale signs of a messy night out. Had he done something her father couldn’t fix?
Johnny was barefoot and shirtless, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his right hand and smoke trailing out from between his lips. He looked stressed but not angry. If Dante had gotten into trouble Johnny would be raging. Vince was sitting beside their mother, attempting to console her as she wept, and her father was standing at the window with his back to her. If anyone was going to tell her what was going on, it was going to be him. But somewhere, deep down in her psyche, something told her that she didn’t want to know. It told her to turn around and walk away while she still could, before she found out whatever it was that she knew would change her life forever. But she never ran away.
‘Dad?’
When her father turned around, the sorrow in his eyes was like no emotion she had ever seen cross his face. He looked tormented, like a man whose demons had embedded their claws through to his very bones. At the same time, her mother stopped crying and looked up, using her palms to wipe away her tears.
‘What’s going on?’
Her words came out rough and choked, fear lacing every syllable. As her mother started to whimper, Dante put his head back down and Vince stood up to take her in his arms. Taken aback by the intensity of his embrace, she held onto his biceps and sought out her father over his shoulder.
‘Maybe you should sit down.’
Vince whispered into her ear as he cradled the back of her head in one hand, his other wrapped around her waist. But she shook her head and pushed back.
‘No I don’t need to sit down, I need to know what the hell is going on!’
If they didn’t tell her what had happened in the next couple of minutes she would lose control. Vince was the brother she was closest to and it wasn’t rare for them to hug, but the way he was holding her was different. It was fierce, as if he was trying to hold her body together. Just as she thought she would explode from the silence, her father sighed.
‘Michael’s dead.’
Her mouth went dry. There was no way her father had just told her that Mike was dead. Her fear and anger were causing her to create scenarios in her head and voice them through her father’s lips. She needed to calm down and listen to what her father was saying.
‘What did you say?’
‘A couple of hours ago, Michael and his friends were asked to leave a club. They were grabbed when they walked out and forced into a side alley. They executed him. One shot to the head.’
Her knees buckled and Vince took her full weight in his arms, holding her head close to his and turning to press his lips against her hair. For a moment she could do nothing but stare back at her father with her mouth open.
‘I’m so sorry.’
An anguished cry escaped her lips as she felt the warmth of Vince’s tears against the side of her face. She started to shake in his arms. She couldn’t
breathe, there was no air left in the room. Her tears overrode her brother’s, and she continued to cry out in pain as she battered against his chest and biceps. But Vince refused to let her go and she gave up struggling, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in the crook of his neck.
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The sun beat down on the mourners and Calvary Cemetery was crowded. There were so many people yet so few that were friends. Aurora knew who was there for Mike and his family, and who was there to pay their respects to her father. They were the ones who looked like they belonged on the red carpet of a Hollywood premiere, and it made her sick. The men were weighed down with gold and dressed in designer suits, their hair slicked back and their expressions blank. The women were even more extravagant, decked out in skin tight dresses and skyscraper stilettos, their hair sprayed and styled. They all wore large sunglasses encrusted with crystals, and an array of diamonds and precious jewels iced every inch of their wrists, chests, ears and fingers. In their left hand they clutched thousand dollar handbags, and in their right, a cell that many were using to text even while Mike’s coffin was being lowered.
She knew they didn’t care about Mike. What they did care about was being seen to care, because if they were seen to care, they were thought to be a friend or acquaintance. If they were seen to care, they showed they valued the relationship they had with her father and his associates. But most importantly, if they were seen to care, they kept up the pretense that they weren’t the one who gave the order or pulled the trigger that killed Mike.
After her meltdown, she had come to realize that she had spent the last day of Mike’s life planning on breaking up with him. While that was something she could never change, she became determined to find out who was behind his murder. Rage had replaced sorrow and she’d found herself unable to cry, her body tense and her mind obsessed with thoughts of what she would do when she found the bastards.
Poisoned Rose (Dark Roses #1) Page 2