by Chiah Wilder
Hawk look behind him and saw Throttle jerk his head back. “What?” Hawk asked.
“That’s Mr. Christiansen. He’s one of my clients. What the fuck, dude?” Throttle came next to Evan, who hung his head down.
“Aren’t you one of the fuckin’ head honchos at Brighter Lives? You took my son?”
Evan Christiansen shrugged as he slowly raised his head.
“That’s all you have to say, asshole?” His fist collided with Evan’s cheekbone, snapping his neck backward like a pine tree caught in the wind.
“I can’t fuckin’ believe it’s you. Why the hell did you do it?” Throttle rubbed his hand over his chin.
“He’s the one breaking into people’s houses and destroying their Christmas.” Garret wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve.
“You’re the one who attacked Cherri, you sick bastard?” Hawk sunk his fist into Evan’s belly.
Gasping for air, he shook his head vigorously. “I didn’t know she was home,” he sputtered.
“Bullshit!” Hawk whacked him on the jaw, knocking him out. He gave Evan a hard kick on the side and went back to the mattress, picking up Braxton. The young boy stirred and his eyes fluttered open. Hawk kissed his cheek. “How’re you feeling?”
“Tired,” Braxton’s lids closed again.
“Don’t fall asleep on me. I’m gonna hand you over to Tiny. He’ll take you outside for some fresh air, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” He yawned and rested his head against Hawk’s shoulder. He handed his son to Tiny. “Did Banger get a hold of Doc?”
“Yeah. He’s talking to him now. Doc’s on his way over here.”
“Good. If Braxton’s breathing gets slow or his heartbeat races, get me. I need to finish up in here.” Tiny lifted his chin and left the room.
“Please don’t hurt me. I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I won’t tell anyone what happened. I just needed some extra money. I didn’t know they were your kids.” Garret stood against the wall, scratching his arms until they bled.
Hawk believed him: he was a junkie and Christiansen fed his habit. He felt a twinge of regret that they’d have to kill him, but they couldn’t leave any witnesses. Besides, junkies were the worst. Hawk had no doubt that Garret would try and blackmail the club once he needed money for his next fix. They couldn’t have a loose thread like Garret. Junkies can never be trusted.
Looking at Rock, he shook his head. “You know what to do,” he said in a low voice.
Rock quirked his lips and pulled Garret into a choke hold. The man struggled and gasped as Rock’s arm tightened. Hawk turned away and went over to Evan who had come to and was sitting on the couch, his head between his hands.
“Now I know why his wife’s so horny for me,” Throttle said.
Evan looked up at him. “So you’re the one she keeps talking about?”
“Shut the fuck up! How much Benadryl did you give the boys?” Hawk loomed over him, and a surge of pleasure zipped through him when he saw fear in the Crazed Grinch’s eyes.
“About four capfuls. I wasn’t going to hurt them. I intended to call Cara and Belle and have them pick the children up. It was a stupid joke. I apologize for it.”
“Yeah… it was a fuckin’ stupid thing to do. The problem is I don’t like jokes. What about you, Throttle? Are you a joke man?”
Throttle scrunched his face while he slowly shook his head. “Nah. I don’t go in for them. Seems like no one’s laughing here, ass wipe.”
“I didn’t hurt them. Ask them. I just had a stupid moment. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“I’d say giving them a shit load of Benadryl is hurting ’em. What do you think, Throttle?”
Nodding, he rocked back on his boots. “I’d have to agree with you, Hawk. I’m fuckin’ pissed about it so I can only imagine how you must feel.”
Evan’s eyes darted from Hawk’s face to Throttle’s and back to Hawk’s. “How can I make this up to you? I really like Cara and Belle. I can’t believe I did something so stupid.”
“Stop saying my wife’s name or I’m gonna punch you in the throat to shut you the fuck up.” Anger roared through him.
“Okay, okay.” Evan tried to stand, but Throttle shoved him back.
“Doc’s here.” Tiny’s voice broke through Hawk’s fury.
“I’ll be right back.” As he walked out of the room, he saw Garret’s body in a heap on the floor and Rock bending over it.
The frosty wind made Hawk’s eyes water and he blinked several times as he walked over to Doc’s car. Banger sat in the front seat and Doc was in the back.
“How the hell are they?” Hawk asked as he slid inside the Land Rover.
“Do you know how much cold medicine they took?” Doc asked.
“The fucker said four of those cups that come with the medicine.”
“That’s a little over one tablespoon. It’s double the dose.”
“Fuck!” Banger yelled as he pounded the dashboard.
“It sounds worse than it is. If they were younger or if they weighed less, it could be a real problem, but they’ll be fine. They’re going to sleep for about ten hours or so. Any adverse reaction to the medication would’ve occurred by now. When they wake up tomorrow morning, they’ll be very dehydrated, so give them water. Keep them hydrated for sure. If they start acting confused, complain of stomach pain, can’t go to the bathroom, or just stay groggy, call me. I don’t think that’ll happen, but just letting you know what’s normal and what’s not.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Hawk said, and Banger nodded. “I got some stuff to do. Take Banger and the kids back to Pinewood.” He turned to Banger. “Call Cara for me and let her know Braxton’s good. I’m sure she’s going through hell. Tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Will do. You taking care of it?”
“Yeah. I’m already halfway finished.” Hawk slid out of the vehicle, went to the back and kissed Braxton’s cheek, clasped his arm on Doc’s shoulder, and walked back into the house. He waited until Doc drove off then he went back into the room.
“How’re the children?” Evan asked.
It took all of Hawk’s strength not to kill him right then and there. “I can’t believe you fuckin’ work for a charity for kids and you hate them. You’re a goddamn psycho.”
Evan smiled weakly. “It is a dichotomy, isn’t it? What can I say? My wife likes a nice life, and the pay is quite good. Anyway, it was a clever cover. No one will believe that I’m the Crazed Grinch. The only thing enjoyable about this whole damn thing will be my wife’s embarrassment. Brittany won’t be able to hold her head up in town.” He chuckled softly.
“Do you believe this motherfucker?” Throttle asked Hawk.
Hawk shook his head. “Too bad you won’t be able to see her shame. I’m tired of this shit.” He grabbed Evan by the collar and dragged him up.
“You need us to help?” Tiny asked. Tigger came over to them.
“Yeah. Don’t make it messy,” Hawk said.
Evan shook his head. “Please. Don’t. I’m sorry. I know it was a huge mistake. I didn’t hurt the children. I don’t want—”
“Take him out of here before I slit his fuckin’ throat,” Hawk gritted. With Blade and Jigger following, Tiny and Rock dragged a sobbing Evan out of the room.
For the next hour, Throttle and Hawk smoked pot and talked while they waited for the brothers to return. He kept tabs on Braxton and Cara via texts to Banger. Belle and he were staying with Cara until Hawk returned home. Evan’s cries bled into the night unheard by anyone but the brothers. And then it was quiet—still as a graveyard at midnight.
Hawk rose to his feet. “Time to head out.” He made sure the front door was locked then he and Throttle walked through the kitchen and out the back door into the inky blackness. As he walked to the front of the house, his boots slipped on the icy ground beneath them. The wintry wind’s harsh bite tore through him making the hair on his arms raise. As the brothers made their way to the SUV parked dow
n the road, puffs of vapor rose above them, mingling with the icy air.
“Fuck it’s cold,” Hawk muttered.
“Were you able to get rid of the two assholes with all this fuckin’ snow and ice?” Throttle asked.
“Everything’s good,” Rock said as he swung up into the SUV.
Hawk switched on the ignition and turned the heater to full blast. Soon they were back on the old highway. Hawk would drop off Tiny, Blade, and Jigger at the clubhouse, and then drop Rock and Throttle at their houses before he went to his home.
It was another hour until he pulled into the garage. The door flew open and Cara ran out, throwing herself into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his jacket, her body trembling like a flame blown by the wind.
“Shhh, baby. Don’t cry. Everything’s okay.” He pressed her close and guided her into the house where warmth blanketed them.
“I was so scared. I’m glad you’re safe,” she said between quivering gasps.
As she struggled to catch her breath, he tilted her head back and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his fingers before he brushed his lips over hers.
“Oh, Hawk,” her voice hitched and she clung to him tighter.
“How’s Braxton?”
“He’s still sleeping but Belle and Banger said that’s normal. Is it?”
“Yeah. Is he breathing okay?” She nodded. He gripped her around the shoulders. “Let’s tell Belle and Banger they can take Harley and go home.”
“Why would anyone do something like this to our sweet boy? Did he abuse Braxton?” The tears slipped down her face again.
“No. He just drugged him and Harley. He said it was a joke.”
“What a sicko. Did you call the police?”
Hawk led her into the family room where Belle and Banger sat with Harley curled in their lap. “How’s the little guy?”
“He’s doing okay,” Banger answered, his eyes fixed on Hawk.
“Good.” Hawk lifted his chin and the president’s face relaxed. Sprawled on the loveseat was Braxton with a fleece blanket tucked around him. He went over and ran his fingers over his cheek.
“Did you find out who did this?” Belle asked as she threaded her fingers through Harley’s hair.
Taking Cara by the hand, he led her over to the couch and eased her down. “You’ll need to sit for this one.” Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms. “The fucker who endangered our boys is Evan Christiansen.”
Belle and Cara looked at each other, then at Hawk. As the reality of his statement sunk in, Cara’s mouth dropped and she quickly covered it with her hand while Belle stared at Hawk incredulously.
“Isn’t he the guy you’ve been working with at Brighter Lives?” Banger asked. Belle nodded slightly, her gaze still on Hawk.
“I don’t believe it,” Cara whispered. “Evan? Why would he do something like that? I stupidly thought it was Dale since he was gone when the lights came back on. Lindi was freaked out about him not being there, and she had to finish giving the gifts out to the kids. I later learned that he was in the back room, drinking up a storm and making out with Evan’s wife, Brittany. But I never thought Evan would do something like this. He always seemed so nice. Can you believe this, Belle?”
“No, I can’t. Are you sure, Hawk?”
“Yeah. Throttle recognized him because his wife’s always calling Throttle to come over.”
“So Kimber was right. It was Evan’s wife who was making a play for Throttle,” Belle said.
“Your Mr. Fuck’s been busy this holiday season. Not only was he plotting to take Braxton and Harley and pretending he gave a shit about the Toy Drive, he was also breaking into people’s houses and smashing up their Christmas decorations. He’s the one who paid a visit to Cherri. Jax’s gonna be pissed he didn’t get a chance to confront him.”
“Evan’s the Crazed Grinch? What the hell? How did we not pick up he was a total lunatic?” Cara glanced at Belle who sat shaking her head with her fingers touching her parted lips. “What about Garret? Was he involved at all?”
“He was Evan’s stooge. You didn’t tell anyone about Braxton and Harley being kidnapped, did you?” Hawk looked at Cara and then Belle. Cara shook her head.
“No,” Belle whispered.
“Keep it that way.” Hawk went over to the couch and sat next to Cara.
“My head’s spinning. I can’t believe any of this. Why did Evan do all those things? Why did he ruin people’s homes like that?” Cara leaned her head on Hawk’s shoulder.
“Who the fuck knows? He’s a psycho,” he answered, squeezing her shoulders.
“But there must’ve been a reason,” Belle mumbled. “It’s just too crazy. And to take our sons. We spent a lot of time with him. I can’t believe he’d do this to us.”
“Those are the worst kind of fuckers,” Banger said. “They pretend to be your friend, take you into their confidence, and then do shit behind your back. You never suspect them because you think they’re your friend.” He ran his hand up and down her arm.
“Did he tell you why he took Braxton and Harley?” Cara asked.
“He said it was just a joke,” Hawk replied.
“A joke? How can taking two innocent boys away from their parents and drugging them be a joke? Belle and I were beside ourselves wondering if they were hurt or killed.” Her voice broke and Hawk tucked her head under his chin.
“It’s okay, babe. It’s over.”
“What if he does this again?” Belle asked.
“He won’t,” Banger replied.
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.” Banger grasped her hand.
“Did you call the police?” Cara asked.
“Badges and us don’t mix,” Banger said gruffly.
“All you two need to know is the fucker won’t hurt the boys again. The rest is club business.” Hawk stood up and went over to the wet bar in the corner. “I need a shot. Who else wants a drink?”
A half hour later, Hawk closed the front door and turned off the porch light. He went over to the loveseat and cradled Braxton in his arms. “I’m beat. Let’s go upstairs. Braxton can sleep in our bed.” He waited until Cara switched off the lights and turned on the alarm then he followed her to their room.
With Braxton cocooned between them, he lay back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. That night was the worst one in his life. He’d done four tours of duty in Afghanistan before he joined up with the Insurgents. He’d seen his best buddy get blown to bits. Once he joined the Insurgents, he’d been shot at, gotten into fights, did a short stint in the pen, and almost lost Cara, but nothing had prepared him for the cold terror he felt when he’d found out his son was missing. Glancing over at Cara, he smiled when he saw her arm resting over Braxton as they both slept. Shaking off the covers, he shuffled over to Isa’s room, picked her up from the crib, and went back to the bedroom. He placed her next to Braxton and slipped under the covers. Content that he had his family close to him, he let the tension, anger, and fear melt away and welcomed the refuge of sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Throttle
A blast of arctic air poured into the clubhouse as Detectives McCue and Ibuado opened the door. Throttle shifted in his chair and gestured for another shot of whiskey. The last thing he wanted to do was field questions from the fuckin’ badges. He doubted they were here about Christiansen or Garret, but the little problem the Insurgents had taken care of at Bridgewater’s farm was another story. Before McCue could reach him, he downed his shot, the smoky flavor and bite warming him.
“How’s it going, Throttle?” McCue asked as he took out a stick of gum.
“I can’t complain,” he answered, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
“It’s like the damn North Pole out there.” McCue moved into Throttle’s field of vision.
“You didn’t come here to give me a fuckin’ weather report.”
Ibuado chuckled. “No, we didn’t. We have some questions
we wanted to ask you and the other club members.”
“The women as well,” added McCue.
“I don’t know anything you’d want to know, so you’re wasting your time,” Throttle replied as Hog placed another shot on the table and ambled away.
“That’s the thing with people. They never think they know anything, but when they start thinking about it, they actually know a whole lot of things. Where were you last Tuesday night?”
Throttle picked up his glass, sipped slowly then put it back down on the table. Stretching his legs in front of him, he looked pointedly at the detective. “I was home with my woman.”
“You weren’t at Chad Bridgewater’s place?” McCue’s jaw moved incessantly.
“No reason to be there. Chad and me aren’t close.”
“What about the other guys around here?” Ibuado asked.
“Don’t know, but if I had to guess, everyone was where they were supposed to be.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Ibuado said.
“Hitched brothers were with their old ladies and single ones were enjoying themselves at the club with the club women. Just an ordinary night.”
“We need to speak with the club women. How many you got living here?” McCue took out another stick of gum.
Throttle held the detective’s gaze for several seconds and the tension between them hissed. “Six.”
McCue shoved the stick of gum into his mouth. “We need to speak to them. Get them.”
Anger bristled inside him. “They’re resting.”
“You guys wear them out?” The detective’s lip curled.
“The brothers leave them satisfied.”
“McCue, what the hell are you doing here?” Banger’s voice broke through the tension.
“Just asking Throttle if we can talk to the club girls.”
“Why do you wanna talk to them?” Banger turned to the bar. “Two shots over here.”
McCue and Ibuado shook their heads. “We’re on duty, but thanks,” said Ibuado.
“Don’t sweat it. The shots aren’t for you.” He took the two glasses from Hog and gave one to Throttle. After downing it, he put the glass on the table. “You didn’t answer me.”