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Calliope grew up with a group of the hardest, scariest fucking men around. It took a hell of a lot to rattle her.
My brothers were scattered through the house, some out front eating on the porch and others in the dining room down the hall. I grabbed a beer from the fridge before heading out through the living room and down the hallway to the back door, the chorus of unfamiliar laughter leading me.
Several sets of eyes looked up as the screen door slammed shut behind me, and there was silence for a second before Bishop waved me over. “I was wondering when you’d fucking get here.”
I eyed the other guys at the table as I slipped onto the end of the long bench. “I wanted to get some shit finished before I left the construction guys to it.”
“Bishop was saying you’re a bit behind,” the largest guy announced, looking at me like we were good friends. “You want some great work done? I’ve got a cousin who can do it in half the time for half the price.”
“And I’ve got a cousin who can swallow a whole banana without gagging, but I don’t get him to suck my di—”
“Hawk, this is Robert,” Bishop interrupted me casually, gesturing to the largest of the men with a fork loaded with mashed potato. “He and his boys are going to be doing security at the bar when we open. Robert, this is Hawk, my VP and nephew.”
He thrust his hand across the table as if I would take it and welcome him to the family with a pat on the back and a high-five. Instead, I looked at it for a second before turning my attention to my food.
It took him a few seconds, but eventually, he withdrew his handshake offer and played it off with a laugh. “When you’re hungry, you’re hungry, right?”
I filled my stomach, listening to the bastard rattle on for another ten minutes about the people he knew, the skills he had, and how fucking lucky we were to have him. I kept eyeing Bishop out of the corner of my eye. For a man who didn’t put up with any bullshit, he was surprisingly okay with this loud-mouth asshole and his tall tales.
“I’ve got shit to do,” Bishop finally announced when Calli stepped outside. If you were a man and not a part of the club, you weren’t allowed within ten feet of Bishop’s baby girl. “I’ll get the club lawyer to write up some contracts, and you can come in and sign them next week.”
Robert grinned across the table at us, his round face lighting up. “Sounds fucking great,” he responded, thrusting his hand across the table again. Bishop shook it, and the men both got to their feet. “I think this will be the start of a great working relationship.”
I sat back in my seat, refusing to get up and acknowledge him with more than a narrowed glare.
“I’m sure it will be,” Bishop answered with a nod, looking up at Robert. The first time I’d seen him ever look up at anyone. At six foot two with a body like a linebacker, Bishop wasn’t a tiny man. Robert, though, dwarfed him by about six inches and two hundred pounds. Hence, the reason he and his team had just been offered the job of security for The Exiled Eight’s new sports bar. “I’ll get someone to call you when the contracts are ready.”
“I’ll see you both real soon,” Robert responded, his gaze turning to me. “Hawk.”
I offered him a sharp nod.
That was all he was getting, much to Bishop’s amusement, my president falling into his seat with a smirk as Robert waddled back through the house.
“You didn’t like him?”
“What was there to like?” I threw back with a snort.
“He’s big—”
“And fucking stupid,” I finished for Bishop.
It wasn’t an understatement.
During his spiel about how awesome he was, he’d rambled on about how he had trained himself to sniff out police officers, just like a fucking drug dog. And I wasn’t about to relive the way he spoke about how irresistible he was to women because they saw him as this giant teddy bear.
“Stupid to you might be a negative, but to me, it just means easier to control and too dumb to try and fuck with us,” Bishop explained, reminding me once again why he was the damn president.
That was in his blood.
And I guess mine too.
It gave me something to be proud of, something to fight and stand for—those things I thought at one point in my life I’d never have. Bishop didn’t only save me from dying that day, he gave me something to fucking live for.
“Uh… Bishop? Hawk?” We both looked up at the same time. Chase, one of the club prospects, stood in the doorway. I couldn’t tell if he looked nervous or was fighting a smile and trying to hide it with the back of his hand. “I think you guys need to come out here.”
MISSY
Stones crunched under my heavy boots as I climbed the steep driveway.
