Hawke

by R. J. Lewis

  “Unless you’re about to join me in the shower, I don’t see what else you could want, Tyler,”

  Hawke called out.

  Shit!

  My heart jumped, and I couldn’t move away fast enough as I turned and hurried out of there.

  Jesse was there when I stepped outside. When he saw me, he started up his Harley and waited for me to climb on. My movements were slow and forced as I moved to him, putting more distance between me and Hawke. He handed me my helmet and I carefully put it on. I buckled the straps and stared at Hawke’s bike sitting in the parking lot in his very own spot.

  Now there was a bike I wanted to be on, wrapped around a man that wasn’t Jesse.

  “You okay?” Jesse asked me, looking back at me with concerned eyes.

  I nodded and reluctantly wrapped my arms around him. Shutting my eyes, I pretended for just a few seconds that it was Hawke instead.

  thirteen

  Tyler

  The morning was spent doing gopher work. Shit that slaves should be doing; like fetching coffee and breakfast for the boys before being sent on another errand to pick up parts from a couple equipment manufacturers. I consoled myself that at least I wasn’t getting filthy in the heat like all the others.

  By the time I got back early afternoon, the boys told me Jesse wanted to see me in his office. I found him leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, with his latest “assistant” assisting his dick.

  “Fuck sake!” I cursed loudly, turning away in disgust at her head bobbing up and down. First Jonny, now him?! He’d never done this before.

  I heard Jesse’s chair squeak. “Time to go,” he ordered her.

  “I can finish you,” she insisted.

  “I said go,” Jesse repeated, angrily.

  She quickly jumped up to her feet and buttoned up her blouse. She strode out of the office, a smirk on her flushed face. I slammed the door shut loudly the second she was gone and glowered at him. “You could have locked the door, Jesse.”

  “You could have knocked,” he retorted, straightening the sleeves of his suit shirt.

  “I’ve never knocked. Every time I have come to see you, I have opened this goddamn door and there’s never been a problem with it.”

  He rolled his eyes and tucked himself back into his pants. I didn’t know if it was just my imagination, but I thought I saw a tattoo on his freaking dick. “Alright, calm the fuck done, Tyler,” he muttered. “I didn’t think you’d be this fucking prudish about this.”

  “Prudish?” I crossed my arms, irritated beyond belief at the shit I had to put up with. “That’s the last thing I am and you know it. It’s not wrong that I don’t want my eyes to see that shit during work. It’s about being professional, Jesse.”

  “I’m the boss,” he cut back sharply. “I owned this fucking place long before I fucking joined the club. I can kind of do what I want and who I want. You don’t get to talk to me like I’m not your boss, you got it?”

  I took a few breaths to keep myself from losing it and just stared at him pointedly. He looked exhausted and annoyed. It wasn’t a combination I was used to seeing. Jesse was always smiling and joking. I wondered what was pissing him off.

  After a full minute, the anger creases on his face disappeared and he looked at me with remorse. “Sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I’m just…wound up, you know? I needed a release.”

  “Didn’t get it last night?”

  “No.” His face darkened again for a fleeting moment. “Sorry you had to see that. I don’t know what the fuck is getting at me. My head’s cloudy, and I didn’t get enough sleep, I guess.”

  I nodded in understanding. “We all have our bad days. Now what do you need, Jesse? The boys said you asked for me.”

  At my lack of hostility, his shoulders relaxed and his face glowed again. “If it were up to me, I’d have you the same way Miranda was just moments ago.”

  Ah, yes, the funny banter was back.

  I resisted smiling. “If it were up to me, I’d cut your dick off so bitches like Miranda weren’t around in the first place.”

  His eyes lit up. “You jealous?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Well, I need her.”

  “You need her servicing you.”

  “Nah, she’s my personal assistant.”

  “Personal cum-bucket, you mean.”

  He just smiled. “I’m usually doing the pleasing, Tyler. I like it that way more, but she doesn’t really do it for me. I thought her lips were plump enough she could help me out instead. But her suction was off, and she bared her teeth like Jaws.”

  “Too much info, buddy.”

  “You know what would do it for me? Servicing you.”

  This guy. “I kind of have more self-respect than to be with a dude who was just getting sucked off.”

  “I’m limp as a noddle, Ty. She wasn’t accomplishing shit. But you…god, we’d rock each other’s worlds. I’m still waiting for you to give in.”

  I rolled my eyes. “How about I’ll consider it if we’re both single at ninety? Make one of those pact kind of things.”

  “Ninety?”

  “I’ll be experienced then. Think of how good my suction will be without teeth.”

  “Fuck, that actually sounds like we’re going somewhere. Do you want a taste of me right now so you have something to look forward to?”

  “I’m sure your dick tastes like raspberry saliva after what I just saw, so no.”

  “You make it sound like a death sentence, and it’s hard to understand. Girls want me and you don’t.”

  I sighed at the note of somberness in his words. “Okay, I’m not getting into this. Tell me what you want, Jesse, so I can go back to work.”

  He leaned back in his chair and that smile began to slip as he closely eyed my face. “Look, to be all fucking serious, Ty, I wanted to see how you were feeling.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His brows shot up. “I mean you witnessed Hawke kill a dude a foot from you and instead of still losing your shit about it you end up coming to work the next morning.”

  “Oh, you want to talk about feelings. I didn’t think you had a therapist in you.”

  “Tyler, seriously.”

  I looked away from his intrusive eyes and at a spot on the wall. It took a lot for me to hold it together. “To be fair, Jesse, Yuri had a gun to my head.”

  “Yeah, I know, but…fuck, sweets, that was heavy shit. I know you’ve seen the guys brawling. You’re used to some blood here and there, but nothing like last night. I’m worried for your sanity. That’s not something you can easily come back from.”

  “I’m fine,” I lied, trying not to relive Yuri’s eye-less face another second. “You don’t need to worry.”

  “’Course I do,” he heatedly replied. “You’re one of us! Part of the family. That means we need to look out for each other. One thing we never brought to the clubhouse was that sort of violence. We would never in a million years want you to have seen that shit. I don’t know what the fuck Hawke was thinking. He should have stopped the second he got the gun off him.”

  “Hawke was protecting me,” I replied steadfastly, thinking of his words last night. “Men like Yuri don’t change. They just keep coming back and pushing their boundaries. Hawke needed to do it, and I understand that.”

  Jesse looked at me perplexedly. “It was fucking savage!”

  “It was necessary.”

  Now he paused for a moment. “Do you…you got a thing for him or something?”

  I looked at the wall again. “No.”

  “Then why are you so chill about this?”

  “I’m not. I’m just…more capable at handling this shit than other people.”

  Lie. I was totally not capable of handling this shit, hence why Hawke had to rock me back and forth like a fucking baby. But shit, he cared enough to, right? Before I fucked it up by putting his hand between my legs, anyway. He’d touched me all over even. Maybe
it was my imagination, but I could have sworn he’d lingered on my ass longer than everywhere else.

  Wow.

  He definitely had.

  That made the rejection heaps more bearable.

  Jesse didn’t appear totally convinced. In fact, he looked horrified. “No one is capable of handling that shit!”

  “Jesse –”

  “I think about you a lot, did you know that?” he cut in, his voice softer now. “I think about how to make life better for you here and better for you at the club, all so that you don’t run for the hills at the shit that goes on. I’m terrified you’ll leave.”

  “I know that, and I appreciate it. You’ve been a good friend.”

  “Friend?” he scoffed, the smile on his face fake. “I’m not doing this shit to be your friend, Tyler. I’m doing it so you open your fucking eyes and realize I can keep you safe if you were on my side and sharing my bed instead of sleeping in Hawke’s every single night.”

  I clasped my hands together, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. I really just wanted to go back to work and think of Hawke’s hands on my ass instead of dealing with Jesse’s crap.

  “What the hell do you want me to say to that, Jesse? I’m totally struggling here. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, adding your invite in your bed is something I don’t need.”

  He leaned over his desk and stared at me sternly. “You know I’d have killed Yuri for you too, right?”

  I frowned and looked back at him. “This isn’t a competition –”

  “Everybody knows about your schoolgirl crush on Hawke. I saw the way you were blushing up a storm the second he entered the clubhouse last night. Even now you’re fighting it.”

  “Congratulations for really making shit awkward now.”

  “I’m being straightforward, and I’m not going to tickle your ear about Hawke. He murdered a fuck of a lot more people than any of us ever did in the history of our club, Tyler. Did you know that? He is merciless. He’s Borden’s fucking hitman for crying out loud. You’ve grown him in your mind to be something he isn’t and forgetting what’s already in front of you.”

  I hated Jesse for putting me on the spot like this. Was he seriously trying to compare himself to Hawke right now? Because that was like comparing oranges to apples, and I wanted my broody apple instead of an orange that fucked stupid girls in offices and compared their blowjob teeth to Jaws.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s in front of me, Jesse, is a man that got sucked off minutes ago. A man that is constantly around bare-breasted sluts and constantly getting his dick wet by them too with his good pal Hector. So excuse me for not buying your sincerity and sliding into bed with you like some hussy with half a brain.”

  “I was just telling you how it is.”

  “I don’t want to hear it! Hawke doesn’t even want me, and I learned that the hard way, alright? And it was embarrassing and I’m still humiliated, but that’s my business and not yours. And even if he did want me in some other parallel universe, I can decide for myself what I want.”

  He sulked. “I know that, alright? But you also know my past enough to believe I wouldn’t have a thing to do with other girls if you wanted my side of the bed, so don’t be throwing that shit in my face either.”

  “We have a friendship, Jesse. I don’t look at you like that. The idea of fucking you is like incest to me.”

  He shrugged. “That’s not unsexy if we acted out on it in a fantasy kind of way.”

  “You’d only act on it if you’re into that kind of shit, and I am not at all remotely interested. It’s just fucked up and I’d never look at you the same.”

  “You’re an only child, so it’s not like you’d be thinking of a particular sibling, Tyler.”

  What the fuck? “Why are we even talking about this? It’s sick.”

  “I don’t fucking know. There was a point and I’ve just forgotten it. Gimme a second to remember.”

  He brainstormed for a few seconds, and I couldn’t believe I was actually giving him a chance to.

  I finally sighed, giving up. “Jesse, stop, you’re being silly.”

  “I’m trying to make you understand Hawke is nothing like me, and that’s a good thing. I’m there for you. I would be mindful killing someone around you, you know? I’d have you look away at least.”

  “That’s very sweet of you,” I said dryly.

  “I’m better.”

  “Why can’t you both be good in your own ways?”

  “He’s got a fuckin’ mannequin face, Ty. You don’t even know if he can feel half the time you’re around him. Plus his beard is getting fucking ridiculous now. He’s fulfilling the stereotype of a biker, and making pretty boys like Hector and me look soft.”

  “Jesse –”

  “Look, I’m real and I’m here,” he interrupted me, tapping his desk to emphasize how here he was. “Don’t get close to him. He’s a fugitive and he’s leaving soon. Hawke’s a dead end, sweetheart.”

  And just like that, I was knocked speechless over two lines of brutal truth. That was how you slapped someone in the face with reality.

  I felt like fucking Ralph in the Simpsons getting his heart broken on Valentine’s Day by Lisa. Thought of his face cracking in pain when she didn’t choo-choose him.

  Fucking Lisa.

  Fucking Jesse.

  Bunch of heartbreakers, the lot of them.

  Jesse studied me, grimacing at whatever devastation I was so obviously displaying. “Tyler,” he said quietly, his voice like silk, “I’m sorry if I’m being a dick. I just don’t want you wasting your time wanting someone you can’t be with.”

  I looked away from him and cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure,” I returned, trying to come off as casual but failing.

  “You’re struggling,” he stated, sadly. “Maybe you should go home –”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Where the fuck did you get this armor from? I’ve never seen a girl like you.”

  My armor felt brittle and cheap like plastic. I just pretended it was hard so people like Jesse would leave me alone.

  “I gotta go back to work, Jesse,” I told him, the life in my voice gone. “I’ll see you later.”

  I didn’t give him a chance to stop me. I fled from the office and sat at my work bench for a long time, wondering why the hell I felt like I lost Hawke when he wasn’t even mine to begin with.

  fourteen

  Hawke

  It was noon and Hector still hadn’t come down.

  The guys had conglomerated in the meeting room behind the bar to discuss Abram, and were currently not discussing Abram because they were waiting on princess Hector to emerge from the room of Sleeping Beauty. Hawke leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, staring at the head of the table where his brother should have currently been sitting in.

  No, where he should be sitting in.

  He couldn’t help that thought from slipping in.

  Hawke gritted his teeth and turned to Jonny. “What is this?”

  Jonny shook his head, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Yeah, he usually gets up right about now. Maybe he had more to drink than what he usually, uh, drinks…”

  Gus sat across from Hawke, staring at him expectantly. Fuck, he was giving him that look, the one that said: See, Hawke? Your brother fucking sucks at this shit and it should be you at the head of the table.

  “Marshall,” Hawke spoke, “go wake him up. We can’t wait anymore for this shit.”

  Marshall nodded and took off.

  They waited ten more fucking minutes, and it was a shit ten fucking minutes because Hawke spent every second of them trying to fend off thoughts of Tyler. She had latched onto his mind the second he stepped into this place, and he couldn’t stop thinking of her.

  That tight little body.

  Those lips.

  Those soul-sucking eyes.

  That. Mother. Fucking. Stare.

  Then this morning. He almost groaned. Christ, she looked fucking d
elicious in those ugly overalls. He was half-tempted to just get the fuck out of there and see her kneeling before a bike, getting her hands filthy. If it was his bike, he’d have stripped her naked, back against him, ass out, tattoo on display as she worked it with those sexy little hands. He’d have kept her nail polish on, though, because pink nails wrapped around his cock would be sexy as fuck.

  Shit, he was actually fantasizing this shit, enough to make his dick hard.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Hawke rubbed his face, exasperated by his inability to operate without her clouding his head like a pussy-whipped fool.

  You can’t be pussy-whipped without havin’ that pussy first, idiot.

  He wanted to have it. He wanted to have Tyler bent in all kinds of ways. That much was obvious, but she looked so fragile standing in front of him pretending to be strong. He saw right through her façade and it concerned him that she was gone. That he had let her go in the first place.

  The door finally opened, thank fuck. He watched Hector stumble into the room, his hair a mess, his face sullen, his eyes black from exhaustion. He wasn’t even wearing his patch. No, his stupid fucking brother was shirtless and holding tight a freshly opened bottle of beer.

  Well, this was just fucking great, wasn’t it?

  A drunk, alcoholic president strolled through, looking like he currently didn’t give a rat’s ass about being here.

  He smirked at Hawke as he rounded the table and took his sweet old time sitting down at the head of it. Hawke didn’t react to that arrogant expression, though he would have given anything to have smashed that Brad Pitt smile off his face with his fist.

  “Where’s Leon?” Hector asked, looking around the room. “We’re missing our Road Captain, and I can’t have this meeting without him.”

  Gus let out a long sigh. “Leon has been on the road since last Friday, and we ain’t expecting him back for another month, Hector.”

  “Prez,” Hector corrected. “That’s what you call me officially when we’re in a meeting, Gus. You know that.”