Hawk (Sex and Bullets Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hawk

  “So you’ll do it?” Detective Lopez tries to hide his grin but fails.

  “Yeah. I’ll be your goddamn bait,” I grunt and knock back the scotch I’m having for breakfast, letting it burn a path down my throat to my chest.

  “Excellent. You are making a huge difference, Mr. Fleming.” Lopez is beaming at me approvingly, and I couldn’t care less. “The world thanks you.”

  Fuck the world.

  I swallow back the words, because that’s not it. I know I’m doing the right thing, but everything today is upside down.

  Because of Layla. And what she told me.

  Yeah, I’m taking responsibility for my parents’ actions, working to take down the monstrous presence of the Organization. Trying to be what my grandfather wanted me to be.

  But what about Layla and the baby? What if I don’t come back this time?

  Sighing, blocking out Lopez’s excited babbling, I lean back on the sofa, lacing my hands behind my head. Even dressed in Storm’s borrowed clothes, the pants slightly too short on me, I feel more human than I have in days. There’s something to wearing normal pants in contrast to sweats that makes me feel more… normal.

  Even after everything that’s gone down.

  Now that I’ve calmed down, I need to talk to Layla. I know I do. My brain is still out of focus. I don’t know what to feel.

  Shock. I am in fucking shock and still I can’t shake it. There’s a strange flutter in my chest whenever I think of her, furious and in my face, when I think of the little white stick with the twin blue lines that mean…

  ….they mean she’s having my baby. My baby.

  A stupid grin pulls at my lips, and I shake my head, push my hair out of my face.

  Raylin is standing at the door of the living room where I’m sitting with the guys, sending me such a glare my pants almost catch on fire. She’s been waiting to talk to me from the moment I entered the room. To chew me out about Layla, I bet.

  She’s right. I kinda lost it there.

  Hey, I fucked up, but going from comforting your girl about not being able to have kids to a positive pregnancy test within the hour can really twist your mind.

  My girl.

  I believe her. I believe she didn’t know this might happen. That she didn’t sleep with anyone else. I’d have known. There was never a second thought when I asked her if she was free to meet me. Never a shadow of a doubt in her eyes.

  Even when we were just fuckbuddies. Even when we didn’t speak of the future and we had fun with each other with the understanding that there would be nothing more.

  And even then I wanted her like no other girl. I just didn’t know I’d fall for her so fucking deeply.

  “We should move fast,” Detective Lopez is saying. “You will drive back with me. I’ll let the HQ know we can go ahead, and as soon as we hide the listening device on you, you can go in.”

  “And then what?” Rook says and shoots me a sharp look. “Are you even paying attention, Hawk? Christ.”

  “Calm your tits, dude.” I wave a hand back and forth, my mind still on Layla, and what I should tell her. How I should apologize. “I’m listening. I’ll go with the detective and get a listening device up my ass, then I’ll be delivered with a bow back to Sandivar.” I hide a shiver and grin widely to cover it up. “Then what, Mr. Lopez? How are you hoping to get my fine ass back out of there alive?”

  His smile falters for a second as if wondering if I’m taking any of this seriously. “You will go to your office, which we are sure they are watching. They’ll have to come and get you. We will follow them.”

  “Simple as that, huh?”

  He shrugs. “Sometimes the simpler the better.”

  Storm looks ready to lay into the guy about the plan, his face reddening, and Rook is tapping his fingers on the armrest, his gaze cold.

  I push to my feet. “Now we’ve settled this, if you’ll all excuse me, there’s something I need to take care of before we leave.”

  “You okay?” Storm asks after me before I make it out of the room.

  “Sure.” If only the doubts plaguing my mind would fuck off and leave me in peace, I’d be peachy.

  My grandfather was right. The world comes first. Before family. Before love. He literally beat it into my head. He’s the reason I’m not my father, that I’d never put money over human lives, success over ethics.

  But what about me? What about falling in love with a girl for the first time—a girl who’s gonna be my baby’s mom no less—and leaving her for a battle I might not win? A battle that might not be successful, or even necessary?

  What if there is another way than throwing myself to the wolves this time? A way that might earn me a life with her? With them?

  Fuck. I’ve already said yes to Lopez—and that’s what my gut tells me I should do—but I can’t shake the feeling that my place is here, with my girl.

  That for the first time in my life, dying for a noble cause isn’t enough. That I wanna live and be happy and have a family like anyone else, and I don’t care if that makes me a selfish bastard.

  Shit. What the hell should I do?

  ***

  “Hawk.” Raylin trails after me, jogging to catch up with my much longer strides. “Wait. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Gonna grab a glass of water.” She grabs my arm. I shake it free.

  She grabs it again, and I stop, groaning. “No. Did you just volunteer to go back to the bastards who almost killed you? The same guys who don’t really care if you live or die? Who wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if you bled internally to death in that basement because their mighty Organization is more important than anything else? Seriously?”

  My lips twitch. Storm’s girl is badass.

  But Layla is gold. She’s honey and silk and concern and love and nobody compares to her. “I have to do it, Ray.”

  “Bullshit. This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  And the doubts are back with a vengeance, circling like vultures. “Oh yeah? So we leave the Organization alone, to bring the world to its knees? No resistance? No fighting?”

  “You aren’t the only person in this world, Hawk. I hate to break it to you, but you may not achieve anything today except lose your life if you go along with that plan. And then what about Layla? What about the baby?”

  I bury my fingers in my hair and tug, because fuck, she’s voicing all my thoughts and all my fears. “Christ, Ray. So what, I step back and say to hell with it? Let someone else fight this battle because I have a girl I love? Don’t others, too?”

  Her expression softens. “See, I knew you loved her. She loves you, too, you know.”

  I close my eyes briefly, pain stabbing me through the chest. “Yeah? Well if she did, after today she probably doesn’t, not anymore.”

  “You’re an idiot. You’re a frigging bastard.”

  “Whoa.” I lift my hands. “Now what?”

  “You accused her of something, didn’t you, Hawk? Of wanting something from you. She’s pregnant, for chrissakes. Have you got any idea how much worse everything hurts her now? How your words must have felt to her?”

  “How come you’re on her side? You don’t know her, Raylin.”

  “But you do. You’re in love with her. Or not? Am I missing something?”

  No, she’s not missing anything. Dammit. I overreacted, that’s all. I fell back on my usual suspicions. I looked at her like I’d have looked at any chick who’d come to tell me she’s pregnant with my baby.

  Thinking she’ll want child support. Compensation. One of my mansions. One of my yachts. Something.

  She’d had hope in her eyes when she’d given me the test. Fear, also, and nervousness, but that bright spark of hope and happiness was there, and I chose to ignore it. I had no choice but to ignore it, lost in my own doubts and rattled by the unexpectedness of it.

  “I need to apologize to her,” I whisper.

&nb
sp; “Yes! Yes, you need to. And what about this suicide mission you’ve taken on? Will you drop it? She needs you, you know.”

  I need her, too. The longer I stay far from her side, the emptier the world feels. Such a weird feeling.

  Raylin is saying something, and I look up. “What?”

  She comes closer, and I see the words form on her lips, “I said, ‘Aren’t you happy, Hawk? Happy you’ll become a daddy?’”

  I am. There’s no stopping the grin spreading on my face, and Raylin giggles, then throws her arms around me and gives me a quick hug.

  “I knew it. I knew you’d love it,” she says breathlessly, her eyes shining when she draws back. “Go tell her that. Tell her you love her, that you’re sorry, and for God’s sake, don’t go and get yourself killed, okay? Stay and protect them. Love them.”

  Everything she says goes against my grandfather’s words. And everything in me wants to do what she says.

  “I haven’t told anyone about this yet,” Raylin says. “It’s your announcement to make, but I’m sure the guys will be so happy for you, too.”

  Nodding, I step past Raylin and start toward the bedroom and my future.

  I’ll talk with Layla. Being together means joint decisions. It means discussing this together before I leave.

  Before anything else.

  ***

  My future is unclear. And that’s because Layla isn’t there. I mean, why should she be waiting for me, right? I was godawful to her, and then I walked out and sat in a meeting with Lopez instead of running back here and apologizing. Talking to her.

  Fuck.

  I check the bedroom, the bathroom, even the walk-in closet. Nada.

  So I head back out and walk through the mansion, looking for her. She’s not in the TV room, or the kitchen. She’s not in the patio, or by the pool. I walk along the tennis court, cursing inside, the wind whipping my hair across my face.

  “Layla? Where are you?” She has to be somewhere on the grounds. She’s probably nearby—so why do I feel cold in the pit of my stomach? Like it’s too fucking late? “Layla!”

  Thirty minutes later, I’m back in the house and sick with worry. What if something has happened to her? What if she passed out somewhere, what if she fell and hit her head? Or hurt the baby? Or—

  “Hawk, where did you go?” Rook is scowling at me from the living room door, the ever-present glass of scotch in his hand. I need to talk to him about that, he’s drinking too much—but that’s not my priority right now.

  “Have you seen Layla?”

  “No, man. Wasn’t she with you?”

  “Fuck. No, and I’ve looked everywhere for her.”

  “You’re worried.” Rook knocks back the rest of his scotch. “She’s here somewhere, buddy. You know that. She can’t leave. Storm’s orders.”

  “I’m fucking serious, man. I can’t find her, and what if something happened to her? She’s been dizzy all these days, and…”

  And now I know why. Neither Storm nor Rook know about Layla’s pregnancy, and dammit, I wanted to talk to her first, before telling everyone else.

  This is so fucked up. Because I’m slowly getting so fucking excited—about the baby, about being with Layla, about the pieces of my life finally falling into place—and because I screwed up and may be the reason Layla may be lying hurt somewhere, hiding from me.

  “Breathe, Hawk. We’ll find her.” He grabs my arm and shakes me. “Okay? We’ll find her. She can’t be far.”

  But as it turns out, he’s wrong.

  ***

  “Not on the premises? What the fuck does that mean?” Storm isn’t amused.

  Then again neither am I. “The fucking chopper is gone, and so is she. Didn’t you tell your pilots nobody is to leave here?”

  “Goddammit, Hawk, I told my pilots to do whatever my guests ask of them. All of you know not to leave here. We talked about it. She knows the risks.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s because we fought. She hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you,” Raylin says, but that’s bull.

  “She won’t tell anyone where we are,” I tell Storm, because I know this to be true. She’d never put us at risk, no matter how upset she is with me. “She just wanted to be as far away from me as possible.”

  “Fucking hell. What did you do now?” Rook has this tired look on his face he always got when we were growing up, and I’d pull off something stupid. “Spill, bro.”

  “Nothing, okay? We had an argument.”

  “He told Layla he doesn’t believe the baby is his,” Raylin says, the traitor.

  Silence spreads.

  “The baby?” Storm stares at me as if I’m an impostor. “You knocked her up?”

  “Yeah, well.” I glare back at all of them. “She told me she can’t have kids. And today she’s pregnant. I had a moment of confusion, okay?”

  “Dude, she’s having your baby,” Rook says, “and instead of proposing with roses and shit, you argued with her?”

  “Dammit, Rook.” I jab a finger at him. “Stop being a damn ass and put yourself in my place. She said she was on the pill. Then it turns out she wasn’t on the pill, because she can’t have kids. And then she’s pregnant.” I shoot to my feet and start pacing. “I lost it for a moment, okay? I was going back to apologize to her, and she’s gone. I can’t… Fuck.” I slam my fist into the wall. Then I slam it again and kick the wall for good measure. “Fuck this shit.”

  Hands pull me away, and I struggle with them. The pain in my hand and foot felt good. My blood is burning in my veins.

  “I fucked this up,” I snarl as Rook drags me to the sofa. “She left because I’m selfish. Because I’m paranoid. Because I can’t see a good thing when I have it. I didn’t tell her what she means to me. This is on me, goddammit. If anything happens to her or the baby…”

  “Shut up, Hawk, and listen.” Storm gets in my face and grabs my shoulder, digging into bruises so hard I wince. “We’ll find her. I’m gonna call the chopper and tell them not to let her out, tell her you were being an idiot, that you’re on your knees begging her to come right back. Okay? It’ll be fine.”

  I shake his hand off me and shove him backward. “Good,” is all I say, because hell, he’s right. Inside my head, I am on my knees, begging her to come back.

  All I want is to have her back in my arms and make everything okay again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Layla

  During the short flight from Storm’s mansion back to Baltimore, I’m so nervous I’m nauseous. Fearing that at any moment the radio will crackle to life and Storm will demand that the chopper return. That the pilots will tell me they’re sorry, but they can’t let me get out of the chopper after all and that we’re going back.

  Back where Hawk is. Hawk who is pissed off that I’m having his baby. Who doesn’t believe everything I told him. Who thinks I want money from him and that I’m playing a game.

  I wrap one arm over my stomach protectively and start when I realize I’ve done it. This is crazy. Don’t know how much more of this joy mixed with sadness I can take. Never thought I’d have a baby with Hawk. Never thought I’d fall for Hawk so completely.

  Never thought he’d break my heart so utterly.

  It’s not Dorothy I want to see. Not my mom I want to talk to. It’s him.

  But he doesn’t trust me. Doesn’t love me, although he talked about dating, and a family. He was the one lying. He lied to me. He pretended to want me.

  Why? Was he just toying with me? After all we went through this week?

  It feels like years have passed. I feel old. I feel tired.

  I miss him already, miss what I thought had sparked between us, and if I don’t distract myself I’ll start bawling. How would I explain that to the chopper pilots?

  Thank God, we’re soon landing on top of the Jordan Tower, on a small helipad, and the younger pilot hops out and helps me down. He takes a plastic name tag that simply says GUEST of JORDAN ENTERPRISES
on it and passes it to me.

  “Wear this, Ms. Green. You need it to use the elevator to go down. Just swipe it over the magnetic sensor beside each locked door to open it. Please be back in two hours, and keep your phone on in case we need to leave earlier.”

  “Sure.” Oh God, he looks all serious and earnest, and I hate myself for lying to him.

  I really hope he won’t get in trouble because of my little stunt. I also hope they will see the note I left for Hawk in my seat on the chopper when they get back without me.

  “Take care, Ms. Green. Remember not to tell anyone where you are staying.”

  At least I can promise this much.

  “Of course I won’t tell anyone,” I say and turn around quickly, to hide my burning face. “See you in two hours.”

  And I hurry away as fast as I dare, hoping it doesn’t look like I’m running, which is what I want to do.

  ***

  I try calling Dorothy again, and again it goes to voicemail.

  What the hell, huh?

  I’ve managed to traverse vertically the Jordans’ tower of glass and steel, and now I’m standing tucked inside the entrance of a clothes store, trying Dorothy again.

  “Come on, come on.” I can’t go to my apartment, in case it’s being watched. I’ll have to meet her someplace else, at a coffee shop or something.

  My cell vibrates with a text message, and I disconnect to read it.

  It’s from Dorothy. It reads, “Can’t talk right now. Really need to see you. Meet me at Starbucks on York road? Lots to tell you.”

  “I doubt it’s more than I need to tell you,” I huff, though I’m kind of worried. Dorothy never gets into trouble. She’s the careful, quiet one of the two of us.

  I send back a “sure” and almost immediately my phone starts trilling with a call. Frowning, I lift it to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Layla? Babe, where the hell are you?” God, it’s Hawk. My stomach twists. “What the hell are you doing? Come back, I—”

  I press disconnect, and the back of my throat burns with tears. “Screw you,” I whisper and step out onto the street to hail a cab. “Screw all of you rich boys.”