Hawk's Revenge

by N. M. Catalano

  “I’ve got better.”

  She narrows her eyes at me as her lips flatten to an angry line. “Yeah, you and your boss, and all of his little bitches. No thanks, I don’t want anything from you.”

  I’m on my feet and in her face before she can even blink. With her jaw clasped tightly in my grip, I tilt her head back and force her to look into my eyes. “Don’t, Jo. Let’s just put this shit out on the table. You and I both know if he knew I was here, if he didn’t try to kill me, he’d put my ass in the hospital for a long time.”

  She averts her gaze as a pained expression washes over her features.

  I know I’m fucking with old wounds I know nothing about, pushing her boundaries. I can’t get in if I don’t crush her barriers. What good have they done her? She’s living with a gun clenched in her hands twenty-four-seven, for fucks sake. I’m probably doing her a favor.

  “Look at me,” I pull her face closer. When her eyes meet mine again, full of defiance and…shit, is that hope? Goddamn it! I can only imagine what she sees in mine. I’m fucking furious she’s in this mess, and hell if I should care. I don’t know how she got here, whether she agreed to it or not, but she’s always got that weapon, so it’s obviously not what she signed up for. “I’ve already told you, whatever this shit is I’m doing, right now I’m here for you. So let’s cut the crap, okay?”

  Her eyes dance back and forth on mine, studying me, trying to decide if I’m lying and setting her up. Or if I came here to fuck her again. I always want to fuck her, and that’s not necessarily a good thing. That could be a major distraction, something I cannot afford. So I keep my eyes fixed on hers, I don’t even look at her tits, and how they’re lifting and falling with each of her heavy breaths. I don’t let her see all the depraved ways I want to defile her. I can feel her body relax when she comes to the conclusion I’m telling her the truth, as much truth as I’m capable of. If she’s going to trust me so I can get what I need from her, I’ve got to give her something.

  “Okay,” she mumbles.

  “Good,” I drop my hand and make myself right at home on the couch again.

  “What are you doing here, Hawk?” she asks as she locks the deadbolt before she takes tentative steps away from the door. She sets her shotgun on the floor against the wall, a good distance from me, and goes to the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.

  I take the opportunity to look at her, really look at her. The woman is dangerously beautiful, a fatal cocktail with long creamy legs, long, silky black hair, and tawny eyes that would make a man beg. She’s strong yet feminine, confident but demure, and thin, too thin, thinner than she normally would be from the way her clothing hangs loosely from her body. That doesn’t detract from her lethal seduction, rare and consuming, once she gives you a tiny taste of it, you’re hooked and you’d gladly die from its overdose. And kill for it without hesitation.

  But it’s her that’s got me hooked. Her smart ass attitude, her strength and I-don’t-need-any-fucking-body grit. It’s all a façade. All weapons in her arsenal of self-preservation. Just like that piece of shit toy gun she keeps glued to her side. It’s all fake, because she needs someone, and she’d never admit it. It’s her one vulnerability. It’s the only one that brought me back.

  “Well, Jo, since we’re being honest, I’m here because you need me.” I might as well keep it real.

  Her entire body tenses as her fists curl, even the one gripping the plastic bottle, causing it to spill over like a volcano spewing lava.

  “Get out,” she seethes. “Get the fuck out of my apartment! Don’t ever touch me again!”

  “You see,” I continue as if she hadn’t said anything, “I do a lot of listening. It’s amazing what a person can put together if they listen to offhanded information tossed around.”

  “I don’t care what you think,” she cuts me off.

  I ignore her. “Bo told me the boss said you’re off limits,” I scratch my chin pretending I’m thinking.

  “Fuck you, and fuck him!” she’s getting irate.

  “That same night when you were up there singing, and woman, anybody ever tell you you’ve got a voice that could make a man do bad things?” I grin at her.

  I’d wanted to rip Bo’s throat out for saying that very same thing. She doesn’t need to know that.

  “I don’t care what you think,” the words leave her mouth, but the flush in her face tells me something different.

  “Apparently Castillo thought the same thing,” I comment casually.

  That gets her attention.

  “What do you mean,” she whispers roughly. She’s transfixed like a deer in headlights.

  “Yeah,” I scratch my head still mocking thought. “He came out of his office while you up there, it was the damndest thing,” I turn my attention back to her. The color has drained from her face. I force back the rage her reaction erupts from within me and remain impassive. “He looked like he wanted to drag you away,” her eyes widen. I’m a horrible prick because I decide to push her more. “Yeah, drag you from up there, tie you down, and lock you up.” Her hand flies to her mouth as her eyebrows shoot to her hairline.

  Fury and adrenaline pump through my system as I watch her strength and resolve burst into flames right in front me. That’s what the motherfucker did, I have no doubt, her reaction says it all, she doesn’t have to tell me a thing.

  I might as well hammer the last spike into her heart. “When you told me he’d hurt me if he knew I was here last night, I figured I was right.” There is no judgment in my tone, no questions that need to be answered. I’m not a tender, sentimental bastard. I’m rough, uncouth, and about as calloused as they come. I’m a bad man, but I’m not completely heartless. Whatever happened to her was fucked up, but it didn’t break her. If anything, I think it created this warrior in front of me.

  The one thing I can’t let happen is giving her an opportunity to get rid of me.

  “Decided I wasn’t going to let that happen,” I shrug, because I’m not. “That’s why I came back last night. So, you can tell me to leave, but I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but like I said, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you don’t want any part of the shit that’s happening, or you wouldn’t be walking around with your security blanket.” I lean my head back to rest on the cushions. Jo still hasn’t moved. “Don’t worry, no one will ever see me coming or going, I’ve done this work for a long time. I’m very good at what I do.”

  I shut up, and give her time to let everything sink in. Allow her time to get over the shock of whatever was dragged up from all that I’ve said, and let her accept that I’m the good guy, at least for her.

  Thing is, I’m the worst out of them all. Except Castillo. The things I’m going to do to him will change that.

  With my eyes closed, I hear her moving around the room. Flashes of the snapshots in my mind of her apartment change like a slideshow behind my eyelids. I took the liberty of looking around, getting a peek inside her, almost like crawling inside her skin. It felt good.

  Her apartment is a small two bedroom, one bath, with a decent sized living room, dining area, and kitchenette. It’s Bohemian meets Ikea chic, with a splash of thrift shop. Honestly, she’s got it set up cool as hell. She’s everywhere in here, I can smell her scent in the air, I can see through her eyes when I look at the many pictures of her and who I guess is her dad in the photos all over the place. There’s even one of her and the DJ and they’re holding a couple of drinks in a club laughing at something only they know. She was happy then, she glowed with it. Now, I can feel her sadness all around like a blanket that’s smothering her world.

  “What do you do, Hawk?” finally she breaks the silence.

  The woman is a fighter.

  I raise my head and level my stare at her. “You want the truth?”

  “I thought that’s what this was,” she stares me down.

  I dip my head in agreement. “Fair enough, b
ut remember, it goes both ways.”

  I can see the muscles clench in her jaw, biting back all of the secrets she’s kept inside. That’s fine, she’ll give them up. All in due time.

  “Mostly I kill people,” I state emotionless.

  I watch her expression, waiting for her reaction, loathing, disgust, repulsion. I expect it all because I’m a bad person who does very bad things. I’m incapable of any goodness in my life, because everything I touch I destroy. Which is why I should stay away from her. She’s broken enough, she doesn’t need me to finally break her completely, or to be the cause of it.

  Yet here I sit, waiting, biding my time, throwing out just enough line to make her come to me, make her trust me. Let her get close so that I can take everything from her, use her, fuck up this world she so carefully teeters on the edge of, then no doubt I’ll walk away as she falls.

  But I don’t see any of that. Instead she gets a glint in her eyes as the corner of her lips twitch.

  “Is that right?” she asks quietly.

  Our eyes remain locked, something silent passing between us as the air crackles with all the energy surging there.

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  “Yeah, Jo, that’s right.”

  She nods her head slowly. I remain immobile, waiting for some other reaction, something else she might say. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, and hell, if she’s not transforming before my eyes. She was never a victim, because standing in front of me is a woman who’s in control and confident, and so far from broken. That stirs the demons inside me, she’s got her own demons, and they just might be the perfect kind of crazy for mine.

  “What are your plans then, Hawk? You think you’re going sit around here all day and babysit me?”

  The ball busting broad has returned.

  I lean my head back again. “Nope.”

  “They’re watching you too, you know that, right?”

  “Yep,” I reply quietly, my eyes closed.

  “Just remember yours is not the only ass on the line because you decided to play cowboy.” I don’t have to look at her to know she’s fine with this.

  It’s more like Terminator, doll.

  “I know.”

  “Jesus Christ,” she breathes out, probably to herself, as I hear her approach me. I want to wrap my arm around her legs, make her straddle me, her hair wrapped around my fist bowing her head back, as she rode my cock until we both shattered. “I’m going to take a hot bath and go to bed. There are extra blankets in the closet by the door.” She’s past me and the door next to the sofa clicks.

  I smile. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, I don’t precisely know what I’m doing in Gulfport, even though this whole place is like a Twilight Zone of bad shit. But being here right now, for Jo, it feels right. And that is a territory I have never been before.

  This thing between us? Shit’s just changed. It shifted from turbulent and wild, to lethal and powerful.

  And really, really dangerous.

  CHAPTER 15

  Hawk

  I was gone before the sun came up. I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t, but I crashed when I got back to my humble abode before daybreak. For now, it’s better I stay with her. She doesn’t fully trust me, She doesn’t know the half of it, but I’m the only person she can trust. The truth is, as long as I’m around, nothing is going to happen to her.

  I’d slipped into her room before I left. I only meant to check on her, make sure she was okay. But when the door opened a crack and I spied her sprawled out on the bed, all that creamy skin on display illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the open curtains, I had to get a better look. I stepped closer to the bed surrounded by her scent, vanilla and woman, and outlined every one of her lines with my eyes, the curve of her calves, the crease where her knee was slightly bent, the roundness of her ass, over the dip of her waist and the swell of her breasts, to her face.

  This is what she looks like when she’s at peace.

  She was perfect, so damn perfect I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Her long dark lashes resting on her cheeks and her cupid bow mouth slightly open. I felt like a starving man and the sight of her was filling some empty space inside me I didn’t know was there. I traced her with my gaze from the top of her head, to the tips of her black painted toe nails, and back. It seems now I could add stalker to my repertoire. I stood and stared, resisting the urge to reach out a finger and glide it over her skin, just to make sure I remembered how she felt.

  The other night was about her. The pain I saw in her expression made me want to rip apart whomever had put it there. She’s was toeing the line of a breakdown, and I couldn’t be sure if she wanted to fall. I’m certain Castillo is number one on that list, but it goes too deep, she’s carried it so long, I’d hate to think that someone she cared about, someone she trusted, had thrown her to the wolves and left her for them to feed on until there was nothing left.

  Looks like she beat them off and walked away standing taller.

  That’s right, Jo, they might have kicked your ass, but they didn’t break you.

  As I drive through town to meet Castillo, a stab of guilt hits me right in the chest. “Son of bitch,” I grumble. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her, but she’s dug her way into my head and I can’t pull her out. Thoughts of her could be a liability. She could be a liability, a fatal one. Besides having the ability to blow this whole thing before I even finish the job.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have made it my business to be her personal bodyguard. I sure as hell didn’t need to fuck her, that was a mistake. Now she’s becoming a constant distraction, consuming all of my thoughts, and making me think things I have no business thinking. Too many things. But with her pain, I saw need. Need for someone, for something, for intimacy, that was the something she never allows herself. Because it allows trust.

  Inside that stock room, her walls were down and her truth was staring me in the face. A better man would have given her what she needed. I’m not a better man. I gave, but I took just as much.

  Watching her sleep, I’d wanted to bury my head between her legs and wake her up as she came all over my face, then straddle her, slide my cock into her mouth, then finally take care of this raging hard-on I’ve had since she walked into her apartment.

  The things I’d imagined doing to her while I waited were on the what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-me side. I have a feeling Jo’s got a little freak in her as well. It was all I could do to leave, but I needed some sleep, and I needed to get out of there before it got light out. Before I wouldn’t leave.

  Castillo’s phone call had woken me up, told me he wanted to see me right away, that he had something special for me to do. I’d swear there was some kind of maniacal pleasure in his voice. The fucked up thing is, whatever’s he’s got planned for me, I’ve done worse.

  Today I’ve got two guns with me. He wants to meet me at the commercial docks.

  Despite all the shit I’ve done, I have a feeling I am not going to like this.

  When I pull up to dock number seven, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, Joe and his sidekick, (what the hell is his name?), are at the foot of the gangplank. Just like everywhere else around here, the pier is a virtual ghost town. And the only vessels at port all belong to Southern Shore Enterprises. They’re no doubt filled with all things illegal.

  Talk about eliminating the competition.

  I park next to the black Mercedes with the tinted out windows that’s waiting. Joe’s already approaching my truck when I open my door.

  “Get out, and lean over the hood,” he sneers.

  “I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” I say quietly as I exit my vehicle. I tilt my head toward him. “Don’t give me a reason to kill you, because I will.”

  He cocks his head to the side with a smirk on his face. In my mind, I’m smashing my fist through his teeth before I make his skull part of the pavement.

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No. It’s a courtesy. Not som
ething I normally give, you should feel lucky.”

  I turn and walk away from him.

  He grabs my shoulder. “Seems like you’re the one giving me a reason,” he grits out.

  Twisting into his hold. I ram my elbow into his face as I pull my Beretta with the other hand. When he collapses to the ground as blood explodes from his nose, I’m leaning over him with my gun pointed at his partner.

  “GODDAMMIT, YOU BROKE MY FUCKING NOSE,” he bellows with his hands cupping his face as crimson pours through them. His buddy has not moved.

  “I told you, you were lucky,” I say standing over him. “Next time, I’ll shove it so far in your brain, you’ll be dead instantly.”

  As I turn away from Joe and return my piece to my waistband, the rear window of the Mercedes glides down. “Get in the car, Hawk,” Castillo says casually from the interior.

  Rounding the car, I get in the backseat from the other side. Bo’s in front behind the steering wheel, Dave’s in the seat next to him.

  “Was that really necessary?” Castillo asks me after I close the door and lean back.

  “Yes,” my tone is deadpan and bored.

  “Should I expect that behavior from you any time they give you an order?”

  “I don’t take orders from them.” I turn my face to his. “I take them from you.”

  That awards me a sick smile, the narcissistic bastard. “Yes, you do. Which is why I wanted to talk to you, get more specifics to your talents.”

  I’m not fond of audiences, like Bo and Dave, Bo’s watching me through the rearview mirror and I swear the dick’s grinning. I’m especially not fond of talking about myself. I think that if someone feels the need to boast, they’re full of shit. This conversation, however, is necessary, no matter what I think.

  “What do you want to know?” I ask, taking the bait.

  “You’re a hitman,” Castillo states.

  I think about the question, wondering how much I should tell him.