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“Grace needed time to reconnect with God,” he announced with a shrug, as though I didn’t know exactly what that meant. As though I hadn’t been locked in rooms for days without food or a bathroom, forced to repeat prayers over and fucking over again until some man in the clouds told Prophet Andrew that I’d suffered enough. “She is safe, and happy.”
“Fucking great,” I replied, clapping my hands loudly. “Then you can give me the address of the prayer house, and I can check.”
A small smile cracked the corner of his mouth, and I instantly wanted to rip it off his smug shitty face. “That does not concern you.”
“Hawk.” Bishop’s warning was quickly noted. The sound of approaching vehicles was getting louder and louder.A lot of vehicles.
I began to back away, throwing the strap of the large gun over my shoulder and pushing it toward my back, not about to give these bastards another way to kill me.
“You better hope she is safe and happy like you say,” I warned with a deep growl. My brothers and I reached our rides and climbed on, never once taking our eyes off the snakes surrounding us, waiting for a moment to strike. “Because if I find out otherwise, you can kiss those pearly fucking gates goodbye because I’ll be back, and I’ll be bringing the fires of hell.”
MISSY
“Chase, can you bring me out another tray of whiskey glasses?”
The young club prospect quickly snapped a salute and disappeared through the large swinging doors leading to the backroom and kitchen. The sounds of power tools droned loudly over the music we were playing. The televisions had arrived this morning, at least ten of varying sizes—maybe more— and they all needed brackets mounted to the walls or beams before they could be hung.
Gem, the other new staff member, and I had all given up trying to keep the polished wood bar top clean about half an hour ago. The amount of dust and crap floating in the air from the number of holes being drilled was impossible to contend with.
Instead, we were filling cupboards and fridges and making lists.
I liked lists.
They gave me a feeling of accomplishment when I was overwhelmed by the number of things I needed to do or bills I needed to pay.
“Here you go,” Chase announced as he slid a tray full of sparkling new glasses onto the bar. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to go and help Drew set up the TVs. He’s struggling with the technology part.”
If I had to guess, I’d say Chase was barely eighteen. He didn’t have a baby face exactly, but something about him gave the impression he had yet to be tainted by the world. Which made me wonder how he’d found himself here, prospecting for an outlaw motorcycle club.
Maybe one day I’d ask.
But at that moment, my attention was pulled toward the front door as Hawk and Bishop walked in, their heads leaning toward each other as they spoke.
I reached for a glass from the tray just as Hawk spotted me, and his eyes held mine as he finished his conversation with a nod.
Bishop patted him on the back and broke off, making a beeline for the doors toward the rear. “Anyone free right now,” he boomed, pausing at the swinging doors. “There’s a large delivery due in a few minutes, and the more hands to unload, the better.”
A handful of people followed him out, including Gem, while Hawk took a seat on the bar stool opposite me. I reached down, pulling a bottle of rum from the closest box and twisting the cap off. “It’s not exactly top shelf,” I said, free pouring what felt like an ounce, though I didn’t work behind the bar at The Rush often enough to be practiced at it. “But I think you need it.”
He didn’t hesitate, wrapping his fingers around the glass and throwing it back within seconds. “What gave it away?”
“The blood on your boot was a sure sign.”
I smiled when he glanced down, shaking his head and letting out a gentle laugh. “How’d you…”
Had his boots been black, I probably wouldn’t have noticed, but the red droplets stood out against the dark brown leather. Especially since I’d noticed that Hawk liked to keep his boots reasonably clean of dirt and grease, unlike some of the other men in the club who obviously took the termshitkickersliterally.
He leaned back into the back of the stool. “Would you believe me if I told you he fucking deserved it?”
I splashed another few fingers of rum into his glass before capping the bottle and putting it to the side. “Tell me.”
He lifted the glass to his lips and downed the contents, gritting his teeth as he placed the glass back on the bar. “My dad showed up at the clubhouse. Haven’t seen him in like seventeen years.”
My mouth fell open, and I leaned in, bracing my forearms on the bar. “What the hell did he want?” It was hard seeing Hawk like this, without some of his confidence, for the first time. It made me want to get my baseball bat. I fucking hated it. I hated that this man had that much power over Hawk all these years later, and that one interaction could completely throw him.
“To let me know that something bad was happening with my sister and that it was my fucking fault. That I was thisdiseaseinfecting her life.” His fingers curled into fists, and I couldn’t help but reach out, drawing his lost gaze in so he was focusing on me.
I’d come back to the comment about Grace.
