Hawk (Fallen Gliders MC Book 2)

by Lynn Burke

  Chuckling, I shook my head. “Work.”

  “She got a job already?” he asked while glancing at my Harley parked outside the opened garage door. “You let her take your fucking truck?”

  “She works from home on her laptop, but I gave her my spare truck key.”

  “What the hell kind of work can she do from home on a computer?”

  I chuckled. Fucker didn’t even own a smart phone yet. “Need to get with the times, or you’ll never find an old lady of your own.”

  “Ha!” Digger punched my arm hard enough I barely caught myself from having to step back to keep my footing. “Knew Janie was your old lady.”

  We got to work, and I actually smiled most of the day. Hadn’t done that for months. With the unrest, brothers leaving, and just overall quietness around the club the previous couple of months, there hadn’t been much to be happy about.

  Janie, my little butterfly.

  I needed to get a new tattoo, I thought when I walked in my kitchen door at the end of the day to find her in one of my tshirts cooking us some dinner with the groceries I’d brought home the day before.

  She flashed a smile over her shoulder from the stove, and I crowded up against her, breathing in the scent of apples from her skin and hair. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.” I ran my hands from her waist down over her hips, noting the lack of clothing beneath my shirt. “No panties?” I asked as my cock twitched.

  “Nope.” She stirred something in the pot that smelled like garlic and beef, but it was the thought of her sweet pussy that had my mouth watering. With a groan, I dropped to my knees, lifted the t-shirt and showed her exactly what I’d been thinking about all day.

  ****

  “I talked to Tasha today,” Janie said when I crawled onto the bed beside her and pulled her back against me.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Janie blew a breath between her lips and clasped her hands over mine resting against her stomach. “She’s going to send me a box of my stuff so we don’t have to head to New York anytime soon, which is good since you’re backed up at work.”

  “Jonny can wait for the engine if I need to run you home this weekend.”

  “No.” She answered quickly and squeezed my hand. “I don’t need much. Just more clothes and some personal stuff. We can plan a trip down there later when you have more time.”

  I nuzzled against her unbound hair and found myself relaxing into my bed more than I ever had in the past. The ranch had been mine for a few years, but having Janie with me made it feel like home rather than a place to crash and keep all my shit. “It was nice coming home to you today.”

  “Mmm.” She squeezed my hand again. “Missed you.”

  “I missed you more.” Smiling, I hugged her tight, wondering if my sap-fucked brain was turning to mush. Would the other Gliders at the club notice? I hadn’t stopped by for my usual two beers after work, so I expected they’d give me shit when I finally chose them over Janie for an hour or two.

  I suddenly understood why Nicky hadn’t returned. Rather than frown or get itchy feet, I grinned. Brotherhood was supposed to come before family. Guess the fuckers who’d made up that rule hadn’t loved their old ladies.

  Janie rolled to face me and smoothed down my beard with her hand, a small smile on her lush lips. “I’m happy, Hawk. Like, genuinely happy for the first time since…” Tears filled her eyes.

  I tucked hair behind her ear and trailed my fingertip down her collarbone until hitting the sheet lying over the swell of her left breast.

  “Since before Mom passed.”

  Janie had only ever told me her mom had died years earlier when Janie was a teenager. It had seemed a touchy subject, so I’d left it alone. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?”

  She nodded and breathed deep, trying for a smile. “She was bipolar, too, but battled depression more than dealt with manic episodes. I try to remember the somewhat normal memories, you know?”

  I nodded and rubbed my hand down along her sheet-covered back.

  “She used to read to me some nights. I remember once she even sang me a song while rocking me. I must have been five or so.” Janie’s misty eyes hazed as though reliving the memory of feeling her mother’s arms. Hearing her voice.

  I never longed for either from the mother I’d lost. She’d never wanted me. Blamed me for wrecking her marriage to my father even though he’d assured me countless times nothing and no one could have made her happy.

  Cancer had taken her, but neither my father nor I had shed a tear over her casket.

  “She hung herself.” Janie’s whisper pulled me back damn quick.

  I blinked. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “She couldn’t handle it anymore. It’s the most selfish thing a person can do, you know?” Janie didn’t seem to want an answer, so I continued to hold her, waiting as she chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’ve been to that point once, not long after being diagnosed, thinking my life wouldn’t be any different than my mom’s. Meds make all the difference, though.” Her brow furrowed, but she finally met my gaze. “I might have inherited her fucked up head, but I’m not her.”

  I kissed her forehead, her apple-scented hair tickling my nose.

  “I could never inflict that kind of pain on anyone.”

  “Glad to hear it, ‘cuz I wouldn’t be able to live without you.” My confession brought more tears to her eyes.

  “You probably think I cry about everything—”

  “I like that you express your emotions.”

  She snorted a laugh and shook her head. “You say that now.”

  “I’ll say that forever.”

  Her smile faded, and she touched my lips with her fingertip. “Forever,” she repeated. “Nothing and no one will ever change that.”

  She pressed her entire body against mine, taking my thoughts from the emphasis of one to the warm, willingness of her soft warmth.

  Janie

  I finished up my author friend’s website by the end of the first week in my new home and dove into the pile of cover art sheets the indie publisher I worked for had waiting for me. While I was far from manic, my creativity had returned, and I didn’t waste any time getting caught up. Every stock photo with a bare-chested, ripped man I downloaded to make the erotic romance covers reminded me of Hawk. Every bearded hottie I cropped, every hazel-eyed, sexy stare of male models turned me on.

  Hawk, the poor man, joked about being my fuck toy, but I always found him hard and willing whenever I needed to feel him inside of me. Fucking while in a normal state turned out to be ten times better than fucking while manic. Sex and being present … best thing ever. My mind could focus on the feel of him, every inch sliding in and out, stretching my body to accommodate his thick cock. No erratic thoughts jumping to what I wanted or needed to do next. Satisfaction and sated bliss.

  Overheated, sweating, and still trying to catch my breath, I sprawled on our bed as he stumbled to the bathroom. His ass flexed in the candles I’d lit earlier which had all but burned to nubs while we’d fucked in every position imaginable. He was a fucking stallion. Thick, hard, with stamina and the ability to come three times in a single night.

  Giggling, I rolled onto my stomach and enjoyed the euphoric tingles racing through my body, muffling my hearing.

  Hawk cleaned me up, same as always, before crawling under the sheet and pulling me into his arms. My heartbeat still thrummed in my ears, a small smile on my lips.

  Life couldn’t be any more perfect.

  “Would you mind if I swing by the club tomorrow after work?”

  My stomach twisted before I could give his words proper thought. Club whores. Willing mouths and holes… I’d been in Dad’s club enough times to understand how things went down. I found myself tensing and tried like hell to relax.

  “Your life,” I finally replied since I couldn’t find it in myself to answer “yes”.

  “Haven’t been there since we got home,” he said, his fingers
drawing circles on my back. “Figured it’d be good to find out what’s going on.”

  I nodded and swallowed against the swelling of my throat.

  “Want to go with me?”

  My head jerked back so I could see his face in the flickering candlelight. “You want me to go to the club with you?”

  “Lots of old ladies do.”

  I found myself smiling. “So I’m your old lady, now?”

  His slow grin and twinkling eyes melted my heart. “Aren’t you?”

  “Guess I am,” I whispered.

  “I love you, Janie.”

  My eyes burned as tears pricked, and I held his bearded cheeks between my hands. “I love you, too, Hawk. So damn much it hurts.”

  He squeezed me tight to his hard chest and kissed me. Explosions of light like fireworks lit behind my eyelids as they fluttered shut … and deep inside my heart, bringing a happiness and contentment I’d never experienced before.

  My new normal, I thought sometime later as Hawk’s heavy breathing let me know he slept. I smiled at the ceiling—far from manic, but flooded with joy. Such excitement usually sent me flying, so I forced my thoughts and dreams back to reality. We still needed to head south to get my stuff. Hawk and Dad still needed to meet.

  Properly back on earth, but with enough anxiety to keep me up late into the night, I considered how to deal with the sure shitstorm in our future.

  ****

  “Welcome to the club.” Hawk pulled the door open and stepped back, ushering me into the Gliders’ club with a hand on my lower back. Only a handful of men sat scattered throughout the large room.

  It was dim, filled with the stench of cigarettes and stale booze, eighties music blasting from hidden speakers. I grimaced and raised an eyebrow at Hawk as he came alongside me.

  “Yeah. That’s all Jonny.” He, too, grimaced. “Been trying to get him to update the music, but he’s in charge.”

  Only two other women lounged at the bar, club whores by the look of their skimpy outfits. I followed after Hawk, never more aware of the lack of hardness lining my face like most of the women following the gangs.

  “Digger.” Hawk clapped a monster of a man on the shoulder, and he turned toward me. I recognized his friend from our two days on the road together. “You remember Janie.”

  “Hi.” I smiled at the blond who looked me square in the face, keeping his gaze from roaming.

  “How are ya, little butterfly?” His lopsided smirk earned a punch to his shoulder from my man. Digger snickered and swigged his beer.

  Hawk motioned me to one of the stools and sat beside his friend.

  The biker with the “67” tattooed on his neck behind the bar set a bottle in front of Hawk without his having asked. “What can I get you?” he asked, turning to me.

  Pale blue eyes and pitch-black hair—the kind of pretty boy most girls would swoon over. Tight white t-shirt and full tatt sleeves. Pierced eyebrow and lower lip … Tasha would be all over him.

  “I’ll have what he’s having,” I said, tipping my head toward Hawk’s bottle.

  “Capone, this is Janie.”

  “How are ya, darlin’?” he asked while flipping the cap off a bottle of beer.

  “Jonny here?” Hawk asked Capone.

  “Yeah, but he’s got company.”

  “The female kind?”

  The pretty boy bartender dipped his head, his smirk and twinkling eyes letting us know exactly what went on behind the door to our right clearly marked “OFFICE” in all caps.

  “Guess I’ll give him a minute,” Hawk mumbled, tipping his drink back for a long pull. “Damn that tastes good after a long day at the shop. Want a burger, Janie? Capone makes a mean one smothered with caramelized onions and mushrooms.”

  “Yeah, sounds good,” I said, smiling at the bartender as he started toward a swinging door.

  “Turn that music down while you go,” Hawk raised his voice.

  Capone turned a dial on the stereo beside the cash register and disappeared through the door that I figured led into a kitchen.

  The hairs on my neck rose as a skitter flicked over my skin. Someone checked me out. I gave a quick, discreet glance around and found one of the two women blatantly staring at me. Offering her a small smile didn’t lessen her resting bitch face. She tossed her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder and curled her nose.

  I turned back to my beer and sipped while Hawk and Digger spoke quietly, their words barely reaching my ears. Sounded as though another handful of Gliders had left the club while the bulk of them had gone on to Sturgis.

  “Jonny found their colors on his desk,” Digger muttered while lifting a shot glass of amber liquid.

  Hawk shook his head, his brow furrowed along with downturned lips. “The fuck is this place coming to?”

  “We need new blood.”

  “Young blood.”

  Digger nodded and downed his drink. “Need to make this place what it was back in the day when Nicky and Jonny’s dad ruled the place.”

  “Those days are long gone.”

  “Would seem that way.” Digger poured himself another shot and leaned forward to catch my gaze. “Hawk says you’re from New York. Know anything about the Silent Demons?”

  My heart stalled and kicked back in as a burst of adrenaline shot through my system. “H-heard of them,” I managed to squeak.

  Digger turned his attention back to Hawk. “I heard their president is a rat, feeding the FBI information.”

  “Fucking Don Taylor,” Hawk muttered.

  I bristled on my stool, my face flooding with heat after having drained of blood mere seconds earlier. Shifting on my stool instead of opening my mouth didn’t do jack to lessen my annoyance. My dad was no snitch. He wasn’t involved with the FBI or any law agency. He was known to be old school, the type of biker who would have made a name for himself back in the seventies when the Hell’s Angels ruled.

  Digger muttered a few more things, more gossip, probably, but I tuned their conversation out so that I wouldn’t be tempted to open my mouth and ruin everything.

  How the fuck was our relationship going to get past the fact my father was the president of the Gliders’ arch rivals? No fucking way… Tears pricked my eyelids. We were fucking doomed.

  Hawk

  Jonny either finally got his rocks off or got sick of trying. His office door opened about twenty minutes or so after Janie and I sat down with our drinks. Hair mussed and gaze furrowing his brow, he glanced our way. He motioned me in with a tip of his head as one of the club whores scooted around him, just as mussed up as he appeared.

  “You all right hanging here with Digger?” I asked Janie while sliding off the stool.

  She nodded, and her shaky smile pulled my brow into a frown. “You okay?” I asked, laying a hand on her back.

  “Yeah,” she whispered, trying for another smile.

  I nodded but didn’t fully believe her. I needed to keep my time short with Jonny and get her back home in case she broke down. While I understood her emotional swings, the other guys—and the two club whores staring at her—probably wouldn’t. Embarrassment was the last thing I wanted Janie to experience at my club.

  I shot a glare at Shelly, the blonde who continued to stare at Janie’s back, hoping she read the warning I let show on my face. She’d always wanted more than a quick fuck with me, and probably hated the fact I’d brought another woman into the club.

  “Be right back, baby.” I kissed the top of Janie’s head and moved across the room toward Jonny.

  He still scowled, scanning the room until I walked past him into the office.

  “How are things?” I asked while settling into the chair across from his desk.

  “Fucking shit.” He slammed the door and slumped into his chair, eyes closed. “Goddamn fucking shit.”

  “She didn’t work for ya, huh?”

  “Best cock-sucker in the club, and she’s leaving me frustrated. Used to love her mouth and big tits…” Jonny shook his head and
met my gaze. “Three more of our newer members left while we were in Sturgis.”

  “Digger told me. Any idea what’s going on?”

  “The clubs aren’t what they used to be. Guess we aren’t living up to expectation. Haven’t had a war, had to do away with anyone, or been involved in any bad shit for close to ten years.”

  The last man knocked off had been by Nicky, and while I’d taken his place as sergeant at arms, I wasn’t anxious to have to perform those types of duties if needed. Digger would have my back, though. “Seems like quite a few of the older clubs are mellowing out.”

  Lips pursed, Jonny sat back to look at the many pictures hanging on the office walls. Past members, cross-country rides, club cookouts.

  “It’s a morale thing, for sure. FBI’s been sniffing around again.”

  “Digger said Don Taylor is a snitch.”

  Jonny scowled at the mention of the name of our rival’s leader. “Wouldn’t put it past that Silent Demon prick to flap at the jaw to cover his club’s ass.”

  Rumor had it, they’d gotten in on the sex trafficking a few other clubs across the country made money off of. Jonny, like his father before him, wouldn’t put up with that sort of shit.

  “What’s he have on us?” I asked, settling back into my chair. “He might know we more than support New Hampshire’s opioid problem, but there’s no way he has names.”

  “I’m not so sure. Local law bagged two of our suppliers. A couple got busted up north near where Nicky settled, too.”

  “Think Nicky ratted them out? They’re the ones who supplied his sister and niece who OD’d.”

  “Can’t stomach that thought, so I’m leaving it alone. Shit.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, his eyes weary as they settled on me. “Some days I just want to pack up my shit and head for the hills. Say fuck it all and leave the club behind.”

  One of my eyebrows popped up. While I’d known Jonny’s weariness affected him to the point of slugging down the hard stuff, I’d never expected him to say such a thing. “You serious right now?”

  “Fuck.” He snorted a wry laugh, devoid of amusement. “Can’t give up the club my dad started. Unless the FBI finds a reason to toss my ass in jail and no one else steps up to lead us.”