Hawke

by R. J. Lewis

  Gus didn’t reply. He just looked at Hawke. Again, he said that thing with his face.

  Hawke dragged his teeth along his bottom lip and turned to his brother. “Alright, Prez, we gotta talk about –”

  “I haven’t addressed you,” Hector interrupted, taking a long swig of his beer. “You don’t talk unless I address you, Hawke, and to be fucking honest, I’m not sure why you’re even in here. You’re not even part of the club anymore.”

  Gus clenched his hands into fists. “You are still drunk, Hector,” he said, trying his hardest to keep the anger out of his voice. “Because need we remind you that Hawke can take your place any fucking second he chooses.”

  Hector didn’t seem ruffled in the slightest, putting on that Pitt smile again. “But Hawke doesn’t want it. Right, bro? You can answer that because I’m addressing you now.”

  Hawke didn’t rise up to the bait. Instead, he calmly said, “We were about to try and get ahold of Abram again to smooth this through when you came through the door.”

  Hector took another gulp of his beer. “I don’t see why we bother. We should just shoot the fucker and sell the shipments to somebody else. We got lots of buyers on the market.”

  “You haven’t spoken to them in over a year,” Gus snapped. “What makes you think they’ll even want our business? There’s a gap now that we’re not keeping contact with ‘em, and it’s being closed by other small time fucks who’ll only get bigger if we don’t do something about it.”

  Hector shot Gus a dark look. “Yeah, you fuckin’ said that already, Gus.”

  “And you’re not demanding anything be done about it. We’re losin’ money! The fucking cockroaches keep comin’ back for more money, and soon, we’re gonna have nothing to give ‘em if we don’t start sellin’ more.”

  Hawke tapped his fingers against the table, keeping his eyes pinned to Hector as he said, “Abram is not an enemy we want to have. He is ruthless and he is untouchable.”

  “Yeah, and so was Borden before he got fucking tortured. Remember that?” Hector retorted.

  Shit, this was an impossible task. Hawke couldn’t believe how fucking STUPID his brother was.

  “Let’s just settle this,” he told him as he pulled out his phone, opting not to indulge his alcoholic president any longer, and called Abram again. He put the call on speaker and settled it on the table.

  It rang four times before someone picked up.

  “You wanna fuck with me, Hawke?” Abram angrily shouted on the other end.

  Everyone in the room stilled in surprise, but Hawke expected this.

  “I don’t want to fuck with you, Abram,” he replied. “It happened for a reason.”

  “It happened for a reason?!” Abram repeated, angrier by the second.

  “Let me explain –”

  “I want to see your fuckin’ ass on my fuckin’ doorstep, you hear me? I want to hear every fuckin’ thing that you did to my cousin to my face, and not over a fuckin’ phone call like a pussy. You got it?”

  “Yeah,” Hawke replied. “I got it.”

  “And if you fuckin’ run, I’m gonna come after that filthy club of yours. I’m gonna tear them to pieces, you hearing me? I’ll pay your cockroaches double so they’ll throw your asses in prison, and I’ll put a price on every single head in there! Then I’m gonna make that whore of a girl that lives there eat a bullet as I fuck her from behind.”

  Tyler.

  Hawke fisted his hands, trying his hardest not to explode.

  “I know everything that goes on in there. If you don’t have a decent excuse this will get fuckin’ ugly, Hawke. I got ties, you stupid fucking idiots. You wanna know who you’re fuckin’ with? You don’t wanna fuckin’ know.”

  Hawke kept his voice steady as he responded, “No, we don’t want to fucking know.”

  “I’m gonna be back in two days and you better be at my place, and don’t you fucking dare drag your sorry excuse of a president there either. I’ll just end up shooting that useless pussy fuck.”

  The line went dead, and the room fell silent.

  Hawke stared at his brother, gauging his reaction. Hector looked paler, his lips sealed as he kept his eyes away from him. He didn’t have anything to say, which shouldn’t have surprised Hawke, but fuck, he was disappointed in the little shit.

  He was over it.

  Fucking OVER his bullshit.

  Standing up, Hawke grabbed Hector’s bottle and tipped it upside down, emptying it on the floor beside Hector’s chair. “And this,” Hawke gritted out, watching his brother’s scowling face, “is why we don’t fuck with Abram. Sober the fuck up, Prez.”

  Then he tossed the beer on the table and turned to everyone else.

  “I know all about Abram. He doesn’t want a war. He’s just really fuckin’ pissed about his stupid fuckin’ cousin bitin’ the dust. We’ll deal with him but not in a gun’s blazing kind of way. We gotta be careful. We are in no fucking shape to tackle on a war because this fucking club is a goddamn mess. In the meantime, take care of security, stock up on our weapons, and do a fucking search of anyone comin’ through that door. Can you handle that obvious goddamn instruction?”

  They all nodded.

  “Good, and keep a fuckin’ eye on Tyler, will you? This fuck just threatened he’d rape her, and believe me, that’s not something he’s against doing. Got it?”

  They all nodded again.

  He walked out of the bar, needing air. He paced out front, wanting nothing more than hard liquor to ease the coil of stress in his chest.

  The fuck had threatened not just the club, but Tyler, like…like he fucking knew all about her. He probably did. Probably had eyes on the outside, and hell, at the rate Hector was letting people in, maybe there was someone in the inside too.

  This shit had suddenly escalated. Hawke wouldn’t be able to just return to the city. Now he had to prevent a big fucking war from happening because his stupid fucking brothers didn’t do a simple body inspection.

  “Fuckin’ hell, Hector,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

  His brother wasn’t fit to lead, and nobody wanted the position. Everyone knew how big the role was. It was an inevitable death sentence if you didn’t know what you were doing. Besides, they wanted Hawke back and he…he went through too much shit to get where he was.

  He wasn’t sure if he had it in him anymore.

  fifteen

  Tyler

  The day got easier toward the end. Working distracted me nicely, and with some good music and small chats with the guys, I was feeling pretty normal again.

  I didn’t expect Hawke to be around when we got back to the clubhouse. I was so surprised – and so fucking elated – to find his motorcycle sitting in the parking lot. Just like that, I perked up more than before, and my body came back to life. I jumped off the bike and nearly sprinted to the entrance. I stepped in and paused, analyzing the scene before I found a seat.

  The brothers had sat on opposite sides of the room; Hector was at the front of the bar, and Hawke in the back. It seemed very purposeful, especially as I caught Hector currently glaring at Hawke. Hawke, as usual, was ignoring it entirely.

  I felt the tension between them as I studied them both. I knew that Hawke taking care of Yuri and the deal about the shipments appeared like he was undermining Hector’s power in the club, but I was thankful he’d done it. I wasn’t sure what would have transpired if Yuri had been negotiating with Hector instead, and that’s not to say that Hector would have allowed the creep to take me home with him because I knew he wouldn’t have agreed to that. No, it was that I was unsure how quick he would have reacted to the gun being pointed at my head.

  Would that have been enough reason to piss Hector off? Or had something else happened while I was gone?

  I stood back for a while and watched Jesse join Hector and Marshall. Then I observed Hawke, who had Gus, Jonny and Kirk by his side. The rest of the members were in the middle, not wanting to confront the obvious
split between both brothers.

  It was so obviously awkward.

  After a few moments Hawke and Hector simultaneously looked up at me. Talk about psychic sibling connection or something. I couldn’t read Hawke’s expression, but Hector’s had an expectant look on his. He was waiting for me to join him, and I felt caught in the middle like my loyalty was being questioned.

  I hesitated and started moving in Hector’s direction. This was the right thing to do. My loyalty was to the current president, not to the man I’d tried to force between my legs.

  Right?

  Only… halfway there, my body turned so abruptly, I found myself moving to Hawke instead. I didn’t once stop to question it, though I knew I should have. Because it wasn’t just them staring at me, it was everybody else too. But I just couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  Hawke watched me intently as I moved to him, taking in every inch of my body like he was committing it to memory. I stopped in front of his table and waited for him to invite me to sit down.

  He took a swig of his beer bottle, his eyes never straying from mine. Then he set it down on the table and slowly said, “Go back, Tyler.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, blankly.

  “You don’t know what you’re doin’ by comin’ to me,” he answered, his voice a warning. “You’re pickin’ my company instead of his, and you know all about Hector’s ego. So think very carefully about what you’re doin’ before you decide where you want to sit.”

  I paused and glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, Hector and Jesse were staring at me, and they didn’t look too happy. Logic told me to go to them because I didn’t want to rock the boat, and Hawke was only here temporarily anyway. Better not to get on their bad side, right?

  But then I looked back at Hawke, and god, my heart burst at the thought of being near him. I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed the chair facing him and sat down.

  Hawke smiled behind his bottle the second my ass hit the chair.

  “Hector will get over it,” I said, returning the smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

  Fuck, what had I done?

  Jonny cackled. “This is the only female that can survive the bullshit of club life, Hawke.”

  Hawke nodded, licking his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’m starting to realize that. How about you get her a beer, Gus?”

  “That I can do,” Gus replied, leaving the table.

  Okay, that was an encouraging start. As long I didn’t look behind me, I could pretend the atmosphere was happy.

  When Gus returned, he gave me a beer and I sipped on it and chilled with them. It wasn’t very exciting because the guys didn’t talk and Hawke spent the whole time watching me. When the women started flooding through the door, everyone in the bar perked up and started to really have some fun. Even miserable Kirk was drawn in by the tits being flashed around the place and excused himself from the table.

  For a while, Hawke and I didn’t talk, but he wouldn’t stop looking at me. He startled me with his attention. I felt warmed by the depth of it and panicked at the same time. Growing up, long before my father died, it took a lot for me to catch his attention because he’d ran the place non-stop, and as a result, he’d been swamped with business and girls dangling around him like starved kittens. And while girls were currently nearing him for a piece of his attention, he wasn’t giving it to them.

  No, he was giving it to me.

  Even after last night’s brutal, horrifying, feel-the-shudder-in-your-bones kind of rejection.

  Mind. Blown.

  “You don’t know what you just did, do you?” he suddenly asked, looking thoughtful now. “You just made a statement to everybody, Ty. That shit has consequences.”

  I hid my hesitation with a shrug. “It’s done with. I can’t just get up now and turn back.”

  He didn’t seem impressed by my response. “Just watch yourself,” he told me grimly. “And choose your prez next time.”

  “That’s what I did,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

  He went still, and then he tensed his jaw. “Fuckin’ hell, Tyler, don’t you be saying shit like that around here, alright?”

  “I’m not. I’m saying them to you.” I leaned forward, smiling softly. “And you secretly like it, don’t you?”

  He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “You’re transparent, Tyler. I know what you’re trying to do. Trying to stir me up.”

  “I’m trying to make you miss it.”

  “Why? So that I can reclaim my title?”

  “It’s still yours technically. When you went to prison Hector was substituting for you. Nobody made it official, and the club’s been in purgatory since.”

  He chuckled. “You think you know everything, huh?”

  “I’ve got years of seeing things, Hawke, and when no one knows you’re around, they show themselves to you. So, yeah, I’m pretty confident I know everything.”

  Hawke shot me a sideways glance. “Hiding under tables.”

  “In closets too.”

  “See a lot of dirty things?”

  “Only the dirtiest.”

  His face brightened, and my heart swelled at the sight. How a man could go from a shade so black last night to a heavenly white tonight was a mystery.

  “So tell me ‘bout Hector then,” he then said, looking past me and at him. “How’s he handling his role? Be honest.”

  I shook my head slowly. “He isn’t handling it, Hawke. He’s either violent or doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t show it, but his hands tremble when they ask him how to handle something.”

  “How often does he tremble?”

  I frowned. “Often enough.”

  “Hmm.” Hawke was inquisitive now as he thought of what I said. “I learned today they’re losin’ money.”

  “Yeah. A lot. It’s the cockroaches. Their ringleader Duggard comes around negotiating all the time. They keep asking for more money.”

  “Bloodsuckers.”

  “Oh, yeah. It stresses Hector out, and Gus just throws more money at them, which is the wrong way to handle it.”

  “You’re right.”

  “What would you do?”

  He didn’t skip a beat replying, “Bleed one of ‘em dry to send the rest a message.”

  “That goes against your rules.”

  “Old rules,” he corrected me. “After working for Borden I realized fear is the biggest weapon. Worse than guns, and violence. Fear is a tool that can silence an entire crowd. Much like the town now. They’re afraid, but if Hector’s doesn’t do anything soon, gangs will rise up and start tryin’ to take over the streets and the cockroaches will keep taking advantage.”

  “Maybe we need you more than ever right now.”

  “Maybe that ship sailed five years ago.”

  I smiled wistfully, looking at him closely as I asked, “But do you miss it, Hawke?”

  “Being president?”

  “The life, being president, all of it.”

  He looked at me peculiarly. “Why? You thinkin’ of leavin’ and seein’ what else is out there?”

  “God no, I can’t see myself out of this place. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. There’d…be no purpose.”

  His smile flattened, and when I realized what I said, I shut my eyes momentarily, wincing out, “Shit, sorry, Hawke. I’m not saying you have no purpose –”

  “You can say what you want, or whatever you feel,” he cut in, softly. “Don’t censor yourself around me, alright?”

  I nodded, not meeting his eye.

  Then he said quietly, “I do miss it, Tyler. Yeah, I ain’t gonna lie. I miss it a fucking lot some days.”

  His voice sounded pained.

  I looked back up at him, surprised by his admission. It was all he was willing to say; I knew that already when he gulped back his drink and slammed the beer down harder than he should have.

  I didn’t know how to make him feel better with words. I wasn’t sure how sincere they would sound anyway.
>
  Without thinking, I leaned over the table and rested my hand over his injured one. As I looked at him, I gently rubbed at the callouses, over the scars and thickened flesh. His eyes shot to mine, his face no longer pained but…curious. Then he watched my movements, the way my fingers roamed his hand. There was such a stark difference between them. He was such a man, his hands so big and vicious looking, while mine were soft and little.

  Hawke visibly relaxed and warmth flooded his face as he took me in, looking over every inch of me he could. The more he did it, the more my skin ignited.

  We drank. Maybe I had one too many beers, but it was just enough for my head to feel that pleasant cloudiness.

  “Can I ask you somethin’?” he suddenly said, running his tongue along his lip thoughtfully.

  “What?” My voice was quiet as I trained my gaze to his mouth.

  “Would you have regretted it if I touched you?”

  My lips parted and my heart raced. He was talking about the ultimate rejection, and I felt my face go red just thinking of my brazenness last night.

  “Yeah,” I admitted steadfastly. Because he’d been right. I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind.

  “What about now?” he asked, his voice huskier, lower.

  I let out a light breath. “No.”

  His gaze dropped to my mouth and he looked at me for a while, intrigued and wanting. I was in my fucking overalls, there were girls wearing nothing, and he was staring at me.

  That spot in the pit of my stomach fluttered and tugged. I wanted him badly. I’d happily take him if he offered. I had no time to play games like the bitches around me did. The longer I was deprived, the more pained I felt.

  And Hawke?

  He deprived me of something big, and I was scrambling to understand it.

  “You’re starin’ at me in that way again,” he growled, gritting his teeth like he was trying to rein in an emotion. “You’re killin’ me, Ty.”

  “Good.”

  There was a ghost of a smile on his wet lips, and I felt that part of me throb a little more just wondering how good he would taste if I kissed him.

  As the alcohol flowed in, the awkward divide in the room lessened, and everybody began to merge with one another. The guys migrated to where we were and Hawke’s attention was abruptly forced from me when they crowded around us.