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Who the hell did I think I was?
Oh yeah.
A mom.
The picture of Kadey that sat proudly on my dashboard had me sucking in a deep breath, my shoulders rising and falling dramatically. This kid was my world, and I’d do anything and more to protect her. To show her she was safe and loved.
And I did just that.
But as I pulled out from the curb and caught sight of the biker standing at the roadside watching me drive away, I had this feeling that this wasn’t the end of it, and he wasn’t about to just let me walk away.
I simply didn’t know if my heart was suddenly pounding because that scared the crap out of me.
Or because it didn’t.
HAWK
My fist hammered on the red wooden door.
The still night air was cool, with a slight edge to it, despite the fact that we were getting pretty damn close to summer.
This side of town was so damn quiet.
A nice change of pace from the busier streets of Detroit.
And yet, I’d still rather be there than in this shit hole, dealing with some stupid motherfucker who decided to screw with one of our clients. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” the male voice called from inside, a deep raspy cough following and growing louder as he got closer to the door.
I clasped the weapon in my hand a little tighter, my finger curling around the trigger as I raised and leveled it at where the door was about to open.
One lock.
Two locks.
Three, before the handle finally turned and the door cracked open.
“Can I hel… fuck!” He tried to slam it closed, but I raised my foot and pulled it back, ramming my heel into the cheap piece of shit and almost cracking the damn thing in half. Adrian stumbled back, hitting the wall for a second in his stunned state before he lifted his hands, his head shaking back and forth. “Hawk, man, come in.”
Shoving what was left of the door to the side, I stepped through, Drew and Blue right behind me.
I wasn’t one of those assholes who sent their entourage in first. Instead, I handled whatever I could fucking handle with my fists or the bullets in my goddamn gun.
“I don’t have the money,” Adrian protested. He knew exactly why I was there because, unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time I’d had to visit his dumb ass. “You gotta give me some time.”
Shaking my head, I stepped inside the run-down apartment. There were holes in the walls, stains on the carpet, and trash pushed into corners. Oh, and the smell? “Last thing I wanted to do was come down to this fucking dump just for you to tell me you don’t have the money,” I ground out, dodging a pile of trash that looked like it was damn well moving. “I don’t have the time for that.”
I really didn’t. I had shit to do that didn’t involve this dirty bastard and his inability to know when to stop ticking up shit he couldn’t afford.
Bad for him, good for us.
The club had been debt collecting for the past three or four years. We bought debt from businesses at lower than the amount owed, then added what we like to call ‘tax’ on top of the original amount. It could be a gamble, given there was never any guarantee we would get our money back, but there was one difference between us and other debt collection agencies—they have to follow the law.
I find there are other far more productive means.
Hands shaking, Adrian reached for a lit cigarette sitting in an ashtray and drew it to his lips. “I… I honestly don’t have anything. I don’t.” He took a long, deep inhale of nicotine, holding his breath for a few long seconds before letting a steady stream of smoke leak between his lips.
“You’re on your third strike,” I warned, dusting off the wall beside me before I leaned against it, my gun resting against my leg. “So, there’s only two ways I’m leaving this place.”
That was his warning.
