Before the End (Beyond Series Ultimate Glom Edition)

by Kit Rocha

  Jyoti stood next to Lex and traced her finger along the edge of the map. “The communes and illegal farms are out of Eden's reach. I have yet to come to agreements with all of them, but even the ones holding back are glad to have the sectors standing between them and the city as a buffer. They understand the situation. If Eden shows up, it will be to take everything they have with no hope of payment.”

  Because this was war. Marching armies had taken what they needed for eons, leaving devastation in their wake. If Dallas could manage to protect the communes, they'd owe him. Big. But if Eden meant to take the communes, they'd have to go through the sectors first. And if it was food they were after, there was only one place for them to go—right through Sector Six.

  Right through Hawk's home.

  He was standing on the other side of the table, staring down at the map. At the boundary of Six, just beside Lex's left hand, and his expression made Jeni's chest hurt. Not because he seemed stricken or shocked, but because he didn't. His features were fixed, careful not to betray the slightest hint of his thoughts.

  But she already knew he worried about his family every single day, and this was why. He'd seen this coming long before Ace had laid ink around his wrists, before he'd even set foot on the O'Kane compound.

  Hawk looked up, his gaze clashing with hers. His expression was controlled, but his eyes—

  Hot frustration. Anger.

  Lex spoke. “Hawk?”

  He glowered at the map. “Defense is a nightmare. We're all too spread out. The only advantage we have is that the city can't risk destroying the crops—it would defeat the purpose of coming at us.”

  Lex's voice gentled. “Someone should make sure they know the situation. You can head out in a couple of days.”

  It wasn't a question. He nodded shortly.

  “Whatever they need, let us know,” she told him firmly. “I mean it. They're not alone.”

  Hawk hesitated. “Can they have more land at the edge of Four? A few more of my sisters have been thinking about leaving.”

  “As much as you need,” Dallas said. “Hell, if they need another barn or two, pull a few of the new recruits out there and set them to building. I'm getting used to having bacon whenever I want it.”

  As if he couldn't get anything he wanted, even at a time like this. But concealing generosity under a veneer of selfishness was practically Dallas's trademark, and Jeni hid a smile as the people gathered around the table began to disband. Some left the room, and others grouped together, talking quietly.

  She lingered until Dallas looked her way, then squared her shoulders. “What can I do?”

  He tilted his head. “Noelle said she downloaded everything Eden's archives had on herbal medicine. You looked it over yet?”

  She'd pored over the texts and pictures until her head ached and her vision blurred. The most important things she committed to memory, of course, but she had to be familiar enough with the rest to know where to go next with her research. “I read through it.”

  He tapped her temple gently. “And how much of it do you have up here now? Most of it?”

  “Enough to handle that project we talked about.”

  “Good girl.” He smiled and stroked his fingers through her hair before leaning back. “Put together a list for Hawk before he leaves. Everything we need to get started. They're probably growing a lot of this shit over there already.”

  She kissed Dallas's cheek before he could turn away. “Thank you for helping him.”

  He winked. “I'm not. I just like bacon.”

  “Right.” Jeni winked back and headed for the door.

  Lex caught up with her halfway. “Can you do me a favor, honey? Cover Trix's dance tonight? It's killing, and I hate to take it out of the rotation, but I think you're the only one who's learned the steps.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She had more reading to finish, but she could work on it backstage, between numbers. “Trix is okay, right?”

  “Twisted ankle. Nothing's busted, but she has to take it easy for a few days. No dancing.” Lex shook her head. “So, of course, Finn is carrying her everywhere.”

  “Of course.” It was adorable how the O'Kane men managed to face down bullets and bloody fights like they were no big deal, but they all melted for their women.

  “Thanks, Jeni.”

  “I got it.” It felt good to stay busy. On some level, it meant she was useful, not just decorative.

  Hawk was standing on the other side of the room, talking to Jasper and watching her, his eyes unreadable. Their gazes held while she thought about what it would take to make him smile or laugh, even cross the room to speak to her. Hell, she even had a good reason to talk to him this time. But she just stared back, and he finally broke the contact, returning his attention to Jas.

  It figured. She was good at working people—it was her most vital, marketable job skill—but when it came to Hawk, she was hopeless.

  One thing Jeni had noticed—Hawk's vices of the flesh were very particular.

  He drank whiskey, straight up—though if you poured him one on the rocks, he wouldn't decline. He hardly ever dressed in anything but T-shirts and jeans worn so soft they clung to him like a lover. He liked manning the rooftop grill with Finn, but his favorite thing ever was when Lili baked. He'd grab slices of bread still hot from the oven, slather them with fresh butter, and eat them on the spot—and the sounds he made, low in the back of his throat, were enough to make Jeni blush.

  And, twice a week, he stripped off his T-shirt, climbed into the cage, and beat the holy living hell out of someone.

  By the time fight night rolled around, he was so tense he was practically vibrating, wound so tight that a lesser man would have already exploded. But if there was one thing Hawk valued, it was his control. His precious control.

  Jeni dug her fingernails into the leather arm of the couch and watched as he entered the cage ahead of his opponent, a bulky blond she'd never seen before. The man rounded the perimeter of the cage, flexing and grunting for the crowd, while Hawk waited with the patience of a saint.

  “Is that another new guy?” Nessa dropped onto the couch beside Jeni with a sigh. “Lex, you're gonna need to add a third night a week at this rate. Bren's been breaking up fights over who gets to go next.”

  “I know.” Her gaze was fixed on the would-be fighters clustered around the cage door.

  Trix paused with her beer bottle halfway to her lips. “We could always lock them all in the courtyard and let them at it.”

  “Brawl night.” Nessa wrinkled her nose. “You know, I should be into the wide-scale violence, but it's not the same.”

  No, it wasn't. Then again, nothing could compare to that first swing, not when Hawk was the one throwing it. He didn't lunge for his opponent so much as he just stepped up into his space, as if he belonged there.

  As if it belonged to him.

  The blond hulk took the hit well, though when he circled around, his lip was bleeding. “This one's going to take a while,” Jeni mused aloud, to no one in particular.

  Lex leaned closer. “How do you figure?”

  “Come on, you see it.” Jeni spared her a glance, though it would have taken something even more seductive than Lex's dark eyes to keep her attention away from the cage. It would have taken a miracle. “Hawk's been waiting for this. He'll make it last.”

  “He's been patrolling with Jas.” Noelle perched on the arm of the couch. “It's rough on both of them.”

  Of course it was. The same desperation that lured prospective fighters through the doors in droves saturated the sectors. For some, waiting for Eden to make their next move was unbearable. Others had just thrown in the towel, straight up—no hope, and no faith.

  Most of them had no reason to believe that anyone could pull them through this mess—this war, she corrected herself silently. Jeni knew better. Dallas himself might insist otherwise if you put him on the spot, but the man didn't know how to fail.

  She reached for her drink and tried
not to wince as Hawk landed another solid blow on his opponent.

  Lex arched an eyebrow. “Going soft on us, honey?”

  Normally, violence didn't bother her, especially the way it played out during fight nights. The matches were clean, fair, and everyone who climbed behind the cage bars knew exactly what they were getting into. It was a thousand times better than what most people ever got.

  But something about Hawk made it seem...tragic. He spent so much of his time creating—repairing, growing, or building things—that watching him throw himself headlong into this kind of wanton destruction felt wrong. There were better ways to embrace the sweet edge of pain, nobler ways. Ones that weren't so at odds with who he was outside of the cage.

  Lex was still looking at her, so Jeni shrugged. “He doesn't need a fight, he needs to get laid. Professional opinion.”

  Nessa snorted and nudged Jeni with her elbow. “Only one way that's gonna happen. Ready to put your booty where your mouth is?”

  “Nessa,” Noelle chided.

  “What? He follows her around like a puppy.” Nessa grinned. “Tell him to roll over, I bet he'll let you pet him all night long.”

  How many people looked at them and saw that—a woman with a panting man in the palm of her hand? Certainly anyone who thought Hawk was the type to roll over. In reality, he'd be the one turning her over his knee and—

  “I've already tried,” she told Nessa, “but the man's a rock.”

  Noelle stroked Jeni's hair before squeezing her shoulder lightly. “He's focused. I don't think he makes casual decisions. Everything's a mission for him.”

  It was that focus that made him irresistible. No matter what he was doing, he was there, in the moment, and it was so damn easy to picture other things. For Jeni to close her eyes, block out the sight and sounds of the escalating fight, and imagine all that determination turned toward her.

  Too easy.

  A collective shout from the crowd opened her eyes just in time. Hawk had his opponent up against the bars, unleashing a flurry of punches that left the man sagging and then sliding to the floor. And just like that, the fight was over, ended by a tiny, delicious slip in Hawk's iron self-control.

  If she followed him now...

  A shiver slid up Jeni's spine, and she looked down at the melting ice in her glass. It wasn't fair to push him now, to exploit that slip or the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He would come to her when he was ready.

  Unless he didn't. And he was leaving soon, heading to Six on O'Kane business.

  She grabbed one of the open bottles from the table as she rose. “You ladies have a good time tonight.”

  Nessa let out a whoop of unfettered encouragement. “Go get him, Jeni.”

  Lex was more reserved, limiting herself to a wink and a slow salute with her drink. But she didn't have to speak for Jeni to read the caution in her eyes—watch yourself.

  It was a good idea. A man who was down to fuck and ready to go would have already taken her up on one of her invitations, which meant there was something holding Hawk back. Whether he was just new to the O'Kane lifestyle or had something deeper going on, it would serve her well to remember his reserve.

  Then she pushed through the back door of the warehouse, out into the courtyard, and all of that vanished. Without the exterior lights that normally burned, there was only the moonlight washing over his skin. Her breath caught in her chest, and she couldn't pretend that she hadn't been waiting for this moment. That she hadn't chosen to wear her favorite little black dress tonight on purpose, or decided to go bare beneath it, or strapped on the heeled sandals that made her legs look eight miles long.

  All for this moment.

  He turned to look at her, his tattoos cutting intriguing shadows across his chest and shoulders and down his arms. She'd watched the artwork take form, week after week, month after month—Ace's clever storytelling, his eye for beauty. The ink flowed with Hawk's muscles, emphasizing their strength.

  He was massive. Unshakable, like a tree with roots that went deep. Except for his eyes.

  His eyes were hungry.

  Her knees went weak, so she leaned against the door and held up the bottle.

  He flexed his fingers as he took a step forward. It seemed like forever before he reached for the bottle, but that made it feel purposeful when his fingers slipped over hers, rough and warm and caressing. He tugged the bottle away and lifted it to his lips.

  His throat worked as he swallowed, and she couldn't resist. She leaned in and touched her tongue to his skin. Hawk groaned and slid his fingers into her hair. She froze, certain for one endless moment that he'd pull her away.

  But he didn't. He held her there, her mouth to his neck, so she licked a slow line up from the base of his throat to the spot just under his jaw.

  His fingers clenched, sending tingles along her scalp and down her spine. His chest heaved. Then he moved, and a thousand different sensations flooded her. The cool metal of the door against her back. The breeze on her skin. The hot, solid wall of his chest pressed tightly to hers.

  There were a hundred seductive things she could say. In the end, she only managed his name. “Hawk…”

  The bottle slipped from his fingers and clinked against the pavement. It rolled away, spilling priceless whiskey as it went, but Hawk ignored it. His hands were already moving, sliding down her body, skimming her hips—

  He curled his fingers under her ass and hauled her up. Her skirt rode up her legs as she wrapped them around Hawk's body. His jeans scraped her inner thighs, underscoring just how little separated them.

  His pants and his self-control. And the latter broke on another groan as he caught her mouth in a bruising, starving kiss.

  His lips were lush, firm, and warm against hers, but it was his tongue that undid her. She'd expected a halting exploration, maybe even with a hint of shyness, but this was something else entirely. He licked his way into her mouth, stroking her tongue with a skill that matched his passion, and everything else vanished. All that was left in her entire world was Hawk, kissing her with whiskey on his lips.

  His skin was hot under her hands, hard and soft all at once. His muscles tensed at her touch, turning the vague, empty ache that had plagued her for weeks into a deeper throb of need. It pulsed hotter when she slid her hand down over his stomach to his belt—

  Hawk caught her wrist and broke the kiss. “Not yet. Not like this.”

  They were words, and she knew they made sense, but not in that order, and not right now. She inhaled to clear her head, but all it did was fill her with Hawk's scent, and she almost moaned. “What?”

  “We have to do this right.” He eased her hand away and tipped her head back so she had to meet his eyes. “I need to get you a collar.”

  The words fell into the space between them, heavy and loud. They were still echoing through her like ripples in a pond when she found her voice. “A collar.”

  “That's how O'Kanes do this, right? That's how they say they want…this.”

  He was staring down at her with such earnest gravity that a laugh bubbled up. She swallowed it and shook her head. “We do what we want, sweetheart. If we want to fuck, we fuck.”

  His seriousness didn't waver. “That's not all I want.”

  Oh Jesus, not another one. Not him. “No.” Jeni pushed at his chest until he put her down, and she avoided looking at him as she straightened her skirt. “You—you what? Want to take care of me? Save me from my life?”

  Hawk blinked, clearly startled. Then his eyes narrowed, and his intensity melted from hunger to danger. “Do you need saving from something?”

  “Hell, no. Absolutely fucking not.”

  He studied her in silence for another painfully awkward moment. “I don't understand, then.”

  The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, so she took another deep breath and chose her words carefully. “We've barely spoken, Hawk. I know that we're attracted to one another, but what you're talking about—a collar? That's different.
”

  “Because it's serious,” he said finally, not so much questioning as confirming. “It's a commitment.”

  Not just a commitment, but the most serious one an O'Kane could make short of ink. “Yeah,” she said gently. “And you can't commit to someone you don't know. It's a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “I understand.” He took a step back, then another. “I asked for too much.”

  He'd asked for something unfathomable. Unimaginable. “Why?”

  His brow furrowed. “Why did I ask for it?”

  He said it as though the answer was obvious, and the question unnecessary. “Yes. Why?”

  “Because it's bad enough not having you. If I touch you...” He looked away, casting his expression in shadow. “Not having you is bad. Not getting to keep you would be worse.”

  The breath squeezed out of her lungs. She didn't know which bothered her more—that he'd felt this way and she hadn't had a clue, or that he thought he had to collar her to keep her from moving on after one night.

  Both were equally heartbreaking.

  She moved closer to him again, stopping just out of reach. “What would a collar mean to you?”

  “That you trust me,” he replied softly. “That you choose me. That you're mine.”

  The words slid over her like a slow caress, and she shivered. “You don't need a collar for that.”

  “Yes, I do.” He looked back at her, his gaze shrouded. Dark. “Because not wanting one—that means something, too.”

  It wasn't the way O'Kanes did things, no matter what Hawk thought. She couldn't think of a single collar that had been bestowed except as a prelude to ink. But it was a statement, that much was undeniable, and it didn't have to be permanent the way the marks were. If it didn't work, if Hawk grew tired of her—

  They could still walk away, no harm, no foul.

  “I'll think about it,” she told him finally. “I have to—I have to think.”

  “I understand.” He reached out, his fingers hovering just above her cheek. “I'll wait, Jeni. You're worth it, however long it takes.”

  Part of her wanted to lean into his touch, so she leaned back instead. “I'm going back inside. I'll see you tomorrow?”