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“And what have I taught you since you were a little girl in pigtails?”
“Face my fears, tell them to fuck off, and live my life like a badass bitch because the only thing I should fear is not living the life I want.”
“Attagirl.”
My whole life I had thought I had followed her advice, but I realized at this moment I hadn’t. Instead, I had let the worry of losing my job stop me from standing up for myself against Rothwell. I had let that same worry nearly keep me away from Hawk forever. My career was important to me, but no job was worth the abuse on my body or losing out on the most passionate love I’d ever felt.
If I had to choose between Hawk and my job, I would choose Hawk. There were plenty of other jobs in other clinics that needed my expertise. The life I wanted was one with a successful career and with this scar-faced, tattooed, dog-snuggling man at my side. And in my bed.
Nana handed me Hawk’s phone. “It’s time.”
I stared at the phone, ready to delve into Hawk’s life. But I didn’t have a clue where to start. “I don’t know which contact to call.”
“That’s easy. Look at his history. The one he’s called the most is the underboss. The one he trusts most.”
I placed the screen in front of Hawk’s face to unlock the phone. As I scrolled through his call and text history, I spotted names I recognized. Stephen and John. The friends he’d told me about. Their chat was all banter and superficial stuff about clubs and girls. Seeing how Hawk had a fun side, one where he teased his friends, brought a smile to my face.
I kept scrolling, counting the times each name came up apart from Stephen and John. There was Finn, Leo, Jamal, Denzel, and Robert. There was even a contact named Rambo’s babysitter. I wondered what she was like.
Come on, Lila, are you seriously jealous right now?I pushed those thoughts away and continued my search for the underboss. Robert had the most texts, but they were all about stocks and trades. Unless that was a code for something, I didn’t think he was the one. Leo had the most calls and no texts whatsoever. No texts meant no evidence.
“I think it’s this one, Nana. But I can’t bring myself to call.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, gimme the phone.”
She tapped on Leo’s name and put the call on speaker. I bit at my fingernail, nearly ripping the whole thing off.
“Where have you been?” a man’s voice said, presumably Leo. It was phlegmy and sounded like it came from someone really elderly.
Nana and I looked at each other. She had a question mark on her face. Maybe I had been wrong.
“Hawk?” the voice said.
I nudged Nana’s shoulder to urge her to say something.
“Umm…The pilot got pounded.”
Oh my god… I shook my head. Nana was using spy-speak on a mobster. And did she have to use the word pounded?
“What?” Leo said.
“The eagle has not landed.” Nana gave me a thumbs-up, proud of herself for her code talk.
“Who’s this?” Leo asked.
Nana placed her hands over the bottom half of the phone. “Cookie, I don’t think this is our guy.”
“Nana, he can still hear you. That’s not a receiver that you can block out your voice with a hand over it like in the olden days.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Leo said. “Where’s the owner of this phone?”
“The pilot is sleeping with the fishes.”
“WHAT?” Leo bellowed.
“No,” I said quickly. “No, he’s not.”
“Sugarpie, leave this to me. I’ve got it.”
