Hawk's Revenge

by N. M. Catalano

  “Hawk…,” it comes out on a moan.

  He drags his length out slowly. “Michael,” my eyes dart to his. He’s staring at me, watching my face as he pushes back in. “My name is Michael Hawkston.” Under his riveting gaze, all pretenses are ripped away. Right now, in this moment, we’re both raw and vulnerable, stripped of lies and secrets. I can see it in his expression. He’s just given me a private part of himself, a piece he won’t allow anyone else to see.

  “Michael,” I whisper.

  He gives me a fleeting crooked grin. Michael’s pushed aside again by the man who wants to fuck me dirty. Hawk.

  His hips drive into me, filling me up, stripping me bare, ripping away everything except him, me, and what he’s doing to me. He’s purging me, breaking me apart with each pounding of his hips, with every stroke of his shaft and slap of his skin, he’s exorcising my demons, until there’s nothing left but what he’s creating.

  He slides one hand down the inside of my thigh to my clit, and pinches it between a finger and thumb. Shockwaves shoot through me. “Mine,” he rumbles darkly as he claims me again and again with his cock. YES. I’m close, so close, I feel the coil getting tighter, ready to blow.

  “Lay back, baby, and look at me. I want to watch your face when you come.”

  He’s destroying me. I know it, and it feels so good.

  I do, I lay back and keep my eyes fixed on him.

  “You’re so fucking perfect, Jo.” He lowers himself on top of me, and holds my face with both hands. “Eyes open,” he whispers as he drives into me. His mouth is on mine, his tongue swirls with mine, his teeth drag my lip between his, but his eyes are always watching me. “I love to watch you,” I breathe in his words as he circles his hips against me, grinding against me in all the right places.

  “Hawk,” I pant.

  He shifts, hitting me in that perfect place again, and that’s it, that right there, sends me over the edge once again. I come apart in his hands, on his cock, and scream into our kiss. My hands are all over him, he’s so hard yet soft, rough yet gentle, dangerous but tender. He is destruction and salvation, and he’s going to kill for me.

  I feel him come, pouring his strength and power into me, as his body goes taut against mine, everything in his release as it seeps into me. “Jesus Christ, Jo.” His mouth crashes against mine and I take everything he has to give.

  We lie together, our breaths coming in unison. All that I see is us together, nothing before exists.

  “Tell me about the DJ,” Hawk asks quietly as his finger glides a trail up my skin.

  “Niles?” Where did that come from? “He’s the only family I’ve got. I’ve known him all my life.” I peer into his face. His expression hasn’t changed, but something is different. It makes me uneasy.

  “Looks like someone wasn’t very happy with him,” Hawk comments. However, I don’t think unintentionally.

  You can fuck with me, but you don’t fuck with my family. The intimacy we’ve just shared is gone, smashed by reality. Hawk is up to something. “You want to tell me what all these questions are about?”

  “Nothing.”

  I shove him. “You’re lying.” I push him again. No matter what he says, he’s still one of them. “Get out.” I don’t want him touching me.

  “It’s nothing. I’ve seen you talking with him, that’s all.” Everything in his expression is shut down tight, hard and unreadable. Cold and calculated. His lips flatten tightly. “But I do have to go.” He stands and starts to dress.

  “Is that what this is? You come here to get a quick piece of ass, ask some questions to take back to your boss. Kill two birds with one stone? You’re all disgusting.” I push myself from the bed and yank on an oversized t-shirt, feeling cheap and used.

  Hawk grabs my arm, spins me around, and locks me in the tight bands of his arms. “Don’t, Jo. Don’t make this dirty.”

  I stare in his eyes. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted? Hard and dirty?”

  “Goddamn it, I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  “This is all there is. Get out, and don’t come back,” I pull free and walk to the front door.

  I can hear him growling something in the bedroom. I just want him gone. I can feel the tears starting to well in my eyes, and I don’t want to make the mistake of crying in front of him. I refuse to show any weakness in front of any man.

  He comes out of the bedroom with his gun in his hand. When he reaches the door, he grabs my hand and places the weapon on my palm. “This is for you. It’s loaded,” he turns it over, “this is the safety. Don’t disengage it unless you’re going to use it.” His eyes are locked with mine. “I really hope you don’t need to use it. Like right now.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. If I wasn’t so angry, hurt, confused, I’d laugh at him. The flick of a glimmer in his eyes tells me he was hoping for the laugh. “We’ll continue this conversation tomorrow.” He grabs me with a hand around the back of my neck as his mouth crashes on mine. It knocks the wind out of me, especially with what just happened and what we shared, the way his face looked, the intensity of his expression, and the crack into his soul of who he is.

  None of that matters.

  I rip myself away. “Thank you. Now leave.”

  He studies me for a minute before shaking his head and walking out the door.

  I close it, lock it behind him, lean my head against the cheap wooden panel, and let the tears fall.

  CHAPTER 20

  Hawk

  I knew the hotel Castillo had referred to. It’s the Bates Motel of Gulfport, Mississippi, the amenities most likely include rotary dial phones, no water pressure, and your nightly entertainment would come through the thin walls from the room next door. Enjoy your stay. For four a.m., the place still has activity, I could see some of the room lights still on from the street, but no one had come and gone through the front door as I watched from the car. Pulling the police vehicle I’d stolen to the rear of the building, I park in the darkest spot, although the entire area is engulfed in darkness, I’d made sure of that earlier when I shot out all the lights. One thing I am grateful for is the hotel is enclosed, the rooms are only accessible through the interior, the only ways in or out are through a door in the front, and one in the back. Grabbing my pack on the seat next to me, I stride unannounced through the back door. I’d already dealt with lock; the fire alarm had probably stopped working years ago.

  When I get to the unmanned front desk, I continue behind it to the office in the back. Only two more hours until daybreak, the guy’s either asleep, getting his dick sucked, or watching porn.

  “Wake up,” I kick the snoring man with the flat of my shoe. He’s sprawled out on the small couch in a dirty wife beater t-shirt and khaki’s, his shirt somewhere in the mess on the floor.

  He jumps, shaking himself into consciousness. “What the hell?!”

  “Castillo sent me.” That’s all I need to say.

  He freezes as the situation settles over him.

  I give him a minute. The small space wreaks of every single body odor known to man, mingling with cigarettes, booze, spoiled food, and stagnant vomit. I can see the sweat erupt on the skin of his wide forehead underneath the fluorescent lights.

  I don’t have time for this shit.

  “The DJ, which room?”

  He blinks once, then twice trying to catch up with my question.

  “You’re not one of Castillo’s regular boys,” he stammers. I’ve got to give him props for that, covering his ass just in case.

  I raise my arm and press the silencer of the gun into the center of his forehead, hard enough there’ll be an imprint to remind him of me every time he looks in the mirror.

  “New guy. Which room?” I shove him back with the gun.

  “Threesixteenthreesixteenthreesixteen!” he flings his hands up in the air in surrender, eyes wide with fear, as I get the distinct impression he’s just pissed himself.

  I hold out the empty gloved hand not holding the gun. “Good. M
aster key please.”

  He fumbles with something at his side, the large key ring, his shaking making the metal play a tune. When he gets it unhooked from his belt loop, he starts to go through them looking for the right one.

  I roll my eyes. Is this guy for real? “For Christ’s sake, just give me the whole thing, I’ll figure it out. I’ll even return them to you when I’m done,” I give him a halfcocked smirk.

  He’s trembling so hard, the keys jangle as he places them in my outstretched palm. “No, it’s alright, keep them.”

  “I’ll bring them back,” I lower my face level with his. “Now, let’s not make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” I nod my head knowing he’s going to mirror my movements. “No scenes, no visitors, we don’t want to disturb anyone else in here, do we?” I shake my head no; he does the same. “Excellent, now you stay right here. Do. Not. Move. I’ll be back for you. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” I think the guy is going to start bawling.

  I turn and leave him sitting there alone thinking about me and what I’m about to do.

  This is all intentional. I wanted him to see me, recognize me, know my voice and be able to describe me to a T. My tattoos are completely visible, there’s no hood covering my head, hell, if he’d asked my name I’d have told him, but he didn’t.

  I push the door to the stairs open and take them two at a time. Not because I’m in a hurry, I just want to get this over with. If this were a Program job, I’d fucking walk. These two boys are just dicking each other. They’ve been hiding their affair, there is no way they’d be involved with something as stupid as going against the most dangerous cartel leader on American soil. The fact one of Castillo’s main inside boys is having a homosexual relationship with a feminine black man would bring enough attention to keep everyone watching them.

  Dave is not the guy. And Niles is a victim by association.

  This fucking sucks.

  Either someone set them up to keep the attention off them, or they, meaning Dave, knows who it is. This would eliminate him and the possibility of him going public with anything he knows. Both very strong scenarios. I’m about to find out which.

  Exiting the stairwell on the third floor, I head down the hall to threesixteenthreesixteenthreesixteen. Poor guy, it’s almost comical.

  As I search for the master key in front of the door, the memory of Jo’s face flashes in my mind, going from that look as I was sliding in and out of her, I can still feel her, smell her, taste her, God, she’s so fucking perfect, to the anger and disappointment when I left. Guilt washes over me, something so foreign before I met her. Pain slices into my chest, so strong, it’s almost physical.

  I can’t think about her now. My jaw clenches as I shove her and all thoughts of her aside.

  The door clicks open. I slide my Berretta through the narrow opening and let it lead me inside.

  I’m here for her too. Too bad it’s going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.

  Pulling the small mechanical instrument from my pocket, I line it up so it’s ready when it’s time.

  The room is dark, the drapes are pulled tight, and the scent of sex hangs in the air with the sound of light snoring. I make out the shape of two men under the sheets, their bodies entwined, one a large frame, the other slender. As I silently approach them, I make a split second decision on how this is going to play. At the side of the bed, I press the barrel of the gun into Niles’ cheek. From the slight shift of the bed, I know he’s awake. Now that my eyes are adjusted, I can see his wide eyes staring sideways at me in the darkness. I raise a finger to my lips, indicating for him to remain quiet, then I motion for him to get out of the bed.

  Damn. He does.

  Slowly, he disentangles himself from Dave and stands in front of me. With the gun still pressing against his temple, I turn him around, and pull him directly in front of me with my arm around his neck in a chokehold.

  “Don’t say a word, or I’ll kill him,” I barely whisper the threat. I feel him nod. “Good. Reach over and turn on the light.”

  The boy’s good, he doesn’t even flinch when he extends an arm and flicks the switch, the bedside lamp exploding a golden circle of light on part of the bed.

  “Niles, baby, what are…,” Dave’s words are cut short mid eye rub when he sees me and his baby. Things start falling into place. I spy the gun on the nightstand next to Dave as his eyes narrow to angry slits. “What the fuck are you doing here, Hawk?”

  “Castillo sent me.”

  Niles’ body stiffens against me, but he doesn’t utter a word. Dave’s eyes flick from me to Niles, me, then back to Niles, before he slowly raises his hands in surrender. “You don’t have to do this. Let him go,” I can see Dave fighting with himself, and the need to look at his lover with deep apology.

  I know the feeling I suddenly realize. It punched me in the chest out in the hall. It sucks bad.

  “You see, Dave, I do. It’s an order. Castillo sent me to kill both of you together…”

  “Jo is going kill you herself. Because you’re going to destroy her,” it’s Niles. The boy’s got balls talking to me like that when I’ve got a gun ready to snuff out his lights.

  “I know,” because I do.

  “You are worse than that bastard Castillo,” he sneers.

  The image of the letters he’d carved into her flesh burn a white hot fire through me. The demon inside me screams for revenge knowing what he must have done if that was the end result, branding her his. Pride for the woman explodes within me, she survived it and came out a fucking warrior. Patience. I force the beast down, it’s not his time yet, but soon.

  “Knowing why I’m here, we can make this easy, or we can make it difficult. You choose,” I can see Dave’s muscles tense from here, but he nods, his eyes flicking from me to Niles. “Good.” In one swift move, I aim the Taser at Dave as I tighten my grip around Niles’ neck. Dave is a big guy, I have to shoot him twice. His body flails on the bed, kicking and arching, as Niles writhes and thrashes in my grip, until his body goes limp in my arms. When he’s unconscious, I let him slide to the floor. I have to move quickly, I’ve only got seconds.

  “You fucking prick,” Dave grits out almost unintelligibly. “I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.”

  “You and everyone else,” I pull the bottle of chloroform and the rag from my bag, douse the fabric, and slam it over Dave’s mouth and nose.

  “Don’t hurt him!” I hear him slur.

  Another pang of guilt slams into me as I suffocate him.

  He fights me with everything he’s got, but the Taser still has control over him. Within seconds, he’s out. Next, I give Niles a smaller dose, I don’t want to give him brain damage or some shit because he’s smaller.

  With both men unconscious, I raise my gun and fire two shots, one in each of them.

  I’ve got to get them both out of here and take them some place we won’t be disturbed.

  Wrapping the two men in blankets, a calm settles over me.

  I’m going to burn this whole place down, destroy it, wipe it from the face of the earth and make sure there’s nothing left. Hell will rain down on them. The need for revenge is whispering in my ear, it’s voice soft and feminine, a seductress who wants blood, not the demon inside me. It’s war, and I’m not taking any prisoners. I’m going to do it for Jo. I’ll hold her hand as she walks across their rotting carcasses with her name carved into every one of the bodies.

  This place will be her monument, a gift from me. Consecrated with their blood.

  If she doesn’t hate me first.

  CHAPTER 21

  Hawk

  Running on three hours of closing my eyes, which was a luxury, I head to the bar. I’ve got Castillo’s souvenirs – on ice – but first Jo. I’m taking her to shoot.

  I’ve got no time to dick around, things are moving, and they’re moving fast.

  Slapping the truck in park, I pull up right in front of the door. It’s early so the pl
ace isn’t open for business, and I hope empty except for her. From the looks of the parking lot, it is. I’m not in the mood to fight her about this, and if she does, I’m throwing her over my shoulder and taking her with me. The door is unlocked when I pull on it, hard enough to make it bang against the wall. There’s still a few more hours before the douchebags arrive for their nightly debauchery.

  When I step inside, I freeze. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

  Jo’s bent over a table, her shoulders slumped with a hand running through all that glorious black hair, with a spread sheet laid out in front of her. There are trash cans, and more full bags of garbage surrounding her.

  Not bothering to even look at me, She’s still pissed off, she states flatly, “Looks like the door was unlocked and the local vermin got in.”

  I step through the maze of trash bags filled with what I now see are empty bottles until I’m standing beside her. “Tell me what you’re doing…please.” I force myself to be polite.

  She looks up at me trying to pretend she’s annoyed, hell, maybe she is. “Since you asked so nicely, I’m going through last night’s sales. Or, more accurately, freebies. This is how I make sure every penny that runs through this place and ends up in Frank’s pockets, whether it be directly or through the people of his kingdom, is accounted for.”

  The loan.

  Slow burning rage starts low and seeps through me like acid until I feel it in my throat, making me want to choke on it. “You do this every day.” I don’t have to ask, I know.

  Her mouth puckers and her eyebrows draw tight as she holds back all the things she wants to fling at me, every horrible truth about Castillo, about me, about the fucked up hand she’s been dealt in life. I’d take it, every single horrendous thing she keeps locked up inside her. Because she’s right.

  “What did you want, Hawk? I don’t have time for a dirty quickie, nor do I want one. Not anymore.”