Craving Hawk Read online

  “Fire’s out, everyone back inside,” the man who’d told me earlier to get out of the way ordered. Without his signature ponytail, I hadn’t realized that it was their club’s president. Dragon. Stupid name, hot as fuck. Even if he was old enough to be my dad.

  “Seriously?” my sister griped as people began to move back inside. She grabbed my arm in a tight hold. “You can’t keep yourself out of shit—even here?”

  “Oh, fuck off,” I retorted, ripping my arm out of her grip. It wasn’t like I’d planned it. I’d never be the happy-go-lucky person my sister was. Did trouble seem to follow me? Yes. But I never asked for her fucking help.

  “Come on, baby,” Rocky muttered, wrapping his dirty arm around Mel’s shoulders. He dragged her into the clubhouse along with everyone else and I stumbled back a couple of steps until I was leaning against the wall again. Mel’s relationship with Rocky was the perfect example of how differently we were made. He’d been married when they got together. Of course, he hadn’t told her that until she was in so deep with him she hadn’t wanted to walk away. She let him lead her around, and was perfectly happy with their dynamic. If it had been me? I would have ripped his Adam’s apple out with my teeth when I found out he was married. I sure as shit wouldn’t have stayed with him, especially considering the life she’d signed up for.

  I looked around the almost empty club grounds. All the motorcycles and cars and even a couple RVs were parked out front; beyond some picnic tables, there really wasn’t anything indicating we were on the compound of an outlaw motorcycle club. Just grass and trees as far as the eye could see and the lights of a small house twinkling in the distance.

  We’d been staying in the Aces and Eights MC’s clubhouse for almost two weeks, and I was still trying to navigate my way around. With my sister being a member’s “old lady” and our parents out of town on a cruise, I’d been pulled into their lockdown with her. I wasn’t stupid, so it wasn’t like I was mad about it. If they thought they were keeping me safe, who was I to argue?

  But it was hard to understand the dynamics when you were an outsider—and I was definitely an outsider. Mel and her best friend Molly were my only connections to the club, I’d made sure of that after Mick died. I hadn’t had any interest in keeping in touch with his family after he was gone. Well, until in an odd twist of fate Molly hooked up with Mick’s older brother Will. I’d almost choked on my own tongue when I’d received that little nugget of information. Molly was a nurse, a mom, and completely… normal.

  I could totally understand Mel hitching her star to a criminal. She wore rose-colored glasses like a prescription she couldn’t see without. Molly, though, she was pragmatic. She knew and understood the score, yet still chose to get back with Will. At least, I was pretty sure they were back together. It’s not like they’d made an announcement, though sharing a bed and being connected at the hip were pretty clear indications.

  For so many people living in such a little space, the club members and their wives got along surprisingly well. The women bickered and snapped at each other after the first couple of days, but they usually got over things pretty quickly. There was no other way to survive if you were going to be in close quarters for such a long period of time.

  The men though… they were harder to figure out. There was clearly a hierarchy. Dragon was the President and Grease was the Vice President, but after that things got kind of hazy. Half of the guys were part of the same family, all married into it in some way or another, and most of them were related to Tommy and Mick in some way. It was confusing as hell, and I couldn’t tell who was in charge after Dragon and Grease. Sometimes it seemed like this guy named Casper, other times it was a guy named Hulk that was married to Dragon’s daughter. It gave me a headache trying to figure it out.

  I’d done my best to stay out of their way for the most part. Their shit didn’t have a damn thing to do with me. But as the crowd dispersed and the only people left were Tommy, his dad, the president, and the guy they called Casper, I stepped away from the building again, clenching my fists as I made my way to where Tommy was standing.

  “Not your business,” Dragon told me gruffly, making me jump. “Go on inside.”

  “It was my fault,” I said hurriedly, lifting my hands palm up. “I got pissed and—”

  “Enough, Heather,” Tommy said quietly, reaching out to wrap his fingers gently around the back of my neck. “Go inside.”

  “No, this is stupid.” I stuttered to a stop as Tommy’s dad stiffened. “It-it was an accident, and it was my fault. I’m the one who—”

  “Enough,” Tommy snapped, his fingers tightening. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to!” I didn’t know why I was arguing. The men were scary and they were pissed and I wanted to be anywhere but right there, but I couldn’t make my feet move.

  Tommy shot a glance at his dad, then before I even realized what was happening he was hauling me against his chest and wrapping a long arm around my shoulders, the other hand sliding into the back of my hair to hold my head steady.

  “You’re makin’ shit worse,” he whispered into my ear, his lips rubbing against the skin. “Go on inside. It’s all good, yeah?”

  “No, it’s not,” I argued, shaking my head a little. “It was my fault.”

  “And you’ll pay for it later,” he snapped back, nipping at my ear. “But not right now. Right now you’re gonna take that ass inside and go the fuck to bed.”

  “What are they going to do?” I asked, my hands digging into his waist where I hadn’t even realized I was gripping him. I had no idea why I cared so much. Tommy had been a dismissive asshole in high school and was even more of a dick now, but I just couldn’t let it go. We had a history. We’d shared a best friend. For some reason, I felt a loyalty to Thomas Hawthorne.

  “Don’t worry about it. Just wanna yell at me a bit, yeah? Go on inside,” Tommy assured me gently. I didn’t believe him. My hands tightened on his vest. Maybe if I stayed where I was they’d lose interest. I knew they wouldn’t say or do anything while I was standing there. Their little club was exclusive, and I didn’t have a membership.

  I inhaled deeply and shook my head, making him growl.

  His arm dropped from my shoulders, and suddenly his fist in my hair was jerking my face away from where I’d been pressing it against his chest. “Go. Now.”

  “Fine.” If he was going to be a dick again, he could save his own ass. Jesus, my thoughts were all over the place.

  His hand slid out of my hair as he lifted his chin toward the building. God, I couldn’t count the number of times he’d done that chin lift thing when we were younger. I’d be hanging with Mick, and the minute Tommy walked up he’d jerk his chin at me, telling me to get lost. It still pissed me off as much as it had back then. I rubbed the back of my head and didn’t say another word or make eye contact with any of the men as I spun around. Before I could even take a step, a loud smack sounded right as my ass cheek felt the slap.

  “What the fuck?” I cried, swinging my head toward Tommy.

  “Said you got one free pass, used that up hittin’ me in the dick. Didn’t say you could light the whole fuckin’ yard on fire,” he replied simply. “Go inside.”

  I opened my mouth to argue and then realized I couldn’t. I’d already taken the blame for the goddamn fire.

  “Such an asshole,” I muttered as I stomped toward the open back door.

  As soon as I reached the clubhouse, I paused and turned to look at the men in the yard. I could barely make out their shapes in the darkness, but from what I could see, all of them were turned in my direction, waiting for me to go inside.

  Chapter 2

  Thomas

  “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” my dad said the minute Heather was back inside.

  “Grease,” Uncle Casper murmured in warning.

  “He coulda burned the entire fuckin’ place down,” Dad shot back. He turned to me and scowled. “The fuck are you doin’ out here anyw
ay?”

  “Came out to have a smoke,” I replied, clenching my jaw.

  “You coulda smoked out front,” he argued, “you came out here to fuck around with that girl.”

  “Does it fuckin’ matter?” I blurted, throwing my hands up.

  “Movin’ in on your brother’s girl—”

  “What?” Dragon asked, his voice a low rumble.

  “She wasn’t his girl,” I snapped. “Doesn’t really matter if she was. My brother’s been in the ground for almost three goddamn years.”

  I didn’t see the punch coming, but I’d still expected it. I’d known it was coming since the minute my dad had mentioned my baby brother.

  “Jesus Christ,” Casper muttered, shoving my dad backward.

  “You stay away from her,” my dad ordered, letting Casper shove him back another step. “She ain’t for you.”

  I stood there silently as my dad spun on his heel and walked away, Casper following behind him. When they made it back inside the clubhouse, I turned to Dragon.

  “That an official order?” I asked, digging my cigarettes out of my pocket like I didn’t give a fuck.

  “No,” Dragon spat, shaking his head. “But you’re really gonna fuck shit up with your parents over a piece of ass?”

  “Never said I was,” I mumbled around a cigarette, patting my pockets until I found my lighter. “But usin’ Mick as an excuse for shit is gettin’ really fuckin’ old.”

  “Your parents are grievin’,” Dragon murmured, walking over to a picnic table and sitting down. “Losin’ a kid…” He shook his head.

  “Know that,” I mumbled, exhaling smoke through my nose. “But Heather? That shit’s just stupid. Her and Mick were never together.”

  “Not what your parents think.”

  “They didn’t even say hi to her when she showed up.”

  “She didn’t say shit to them either,” Dragon reminded me, leaning back on his elbows. “Pretty sure they were just followin’ her lead.”

  “Her and Mick weren’t together,” I said again, annoyed that I found myself defending a nonexistent relationship with a chick I barely knew anymore. “Wasn’t like that.”

  “Don’t think it matters,” Dragon replied, brushing his hands against his dirty jeans as he stood back up. “They see that girl as his, nothin’ you do is gonna change that.”

  “It’s bullshit,” I muttered.

  “It is what it is,” he said, slapping me on the shoulder as he moved past me. “Now take that thing out front before you start another goddamn fire.”

  I let out a rusty laugh as he strode back inside and glanced down at my cigarette. No way in hell was I going out front to get fucked with by everyone who’d just seen me light the stupid yard on fire. I couldn’t believe she’d backhanded me. I’d instinctively dropped my hands to make sure she wasn’t going to swing again and I’d completely forgotten about the cigarette dangling from my fingertips.

  She’d always been the chick that acted before thinking shit through. I should have seen the hit coming. She’d be the first person to jump off high rocks at the river, the first one to hang on an old, frayed rope swing. She talked smack to people she shouldn’t and gave the finger to pretty much everyone. My baby brother had been the only person I’d ever seen rein her in. After he was gone, I probably should have checked in on her, but I’d been dealing with my own shit.

  I pinched out my smoke as I dragged my ass around the side of the clubhouse. There was an RV and a trailer parked near the garage bays with long extension cords connecting them to the club’s power, and six tents spread out in the grass for those of us who didn’t rate a room inside. Like me. As a prospect, I was a peon at the club still, and I had no idea how long I’d be stuck in limbo. I knew a lot more than the other prospects, it came with being the son of the VP, but I still had to pay my dues. That shit sucked. Especially when I knew shit was going down, but I was expected to stay back at the club with the old ladies.

  I shucked my boots and crawled inside my tent with a groan. My balls were still sore as hell. After stripping out of everything but my boxer briefs, I searched through my duffle stored in the corner and finally found what I was looking for. It wasn’t like I had to hide it, but with all the kids running around I didn’t want little hands finding it.

  I loaded up my pipe and grabbed my lighter out of my jeans, and after the first inhale I could feel myself starting to mellow. By the time I was cleaning the pipe out, I knew I’d be able to sleep. Sometimes I couldn’t. Sometimes I woke up yelling. And sometimes I had nightmares that left me jonesing for an Adderall the next day so I wouldn’t have to deal with them again that night.

  I laid back down in my sleeping bag and stared up at the little mesh opening at the top of my tent, listening to people walk around outside. There was a baby crying somewhere, and I could hear my Aunt Farrah talking to someone about a vintage clothes shop she’d found when she and Casper were on the road.

  The sounds didn’t bother me. If anything, they were almost comforting. They were noises I recognized. Home.

  I closed my eyes, and like every other night, I saw my little brother’s face smirking at me. Like he’d just done something that would piss me off, but he knew I didn’t know about it yet. I’d seen that look a million times when he was alive, and almost every night since he’d died.

  “You should ask her out.”

  “The fuck are you talking about?” I asked, rolling a tire toward our Nova. Some asshole had slashed all her tires in the school parking lot, and it had taken three days to find replacement tires. Such bullshit.

  “Heather,” Mick said, picking up a tire and carrying it over. “The girls you hang out with are nasty as fuck.”

  I scoffed. “Doesn’t mean I want your sloppy seconds, fuckwad.”

  “It’s not like that,” he argued, throwing a greasy rag at my head as I bent down to fit the tire on. “We’re just friends.”

  “Stupid,” I called back over my shoulder. “That chick would ride ya like she stole ya.”

  “Not happenin’,” he argued, shaking his head.

  “Why not?” I asked, not really expecting an answer. “She’s hot as hell.”

  “See? Exactly why you should ask her out.”

  “I’m not asking her out.”

  “You should.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Why?”

  I stood up straight and turned to my little brother who really wasn’t all that little. He’d been towering over me for the past two years, and before that we’d been the same size for most of our childhood even though he was almost three years younger than me. “She wants you, man,” I said in exasperation. “She digs you. Follows your ass around, always touchin’ you and findin’ reasons for you guys to hang out.”

  “How many times do I gotta say that we’re friends?”

  “You can say it all you want, Micky boy,” I muttered, dropping back down to finish the tire. “But that doesn’t make it the truth. Least not on her end.”

  “Tom!” my brother yelled.

  Then I was being tackled to the side as the Nova fell off the blocks. My back hit the concrete hard and the added weight of Mick knocked the breath right out of me. I tried to push him off as I struggled for air, but it only took a few moments for me to realize he wasn’t moving. Not at all.

  I was gasping for air as I woke up, disoriented for a minute until I realized where I was. Christ. I ran a hand down my sweaty chest and threw the top of my sleeping bag off me. Everything was soaked. So soaked, I wondered if I’d just pissed myself. Reaching down, I let out a sigh when I encountered damp boxers, not soaking wet ones.

  The conversation between Mick and I had happened exactly as I’d dreamed it. It hadn’t been the first time he’d brought it up, but it had been the last. The car hadn’t fallen, though. We’d put the tires on with no problem and I’d taken the Nova on a date, got my hands down Ashley McDonald’s pants and a stellar blowjob that night.

  No, t
he feeling of Mick’s limp body pinning me to the ground was a familiar one, but it hadn’t happened that way.

  I hopped up and shucked off my boxers, tossing them into the corner with the rest of my dirty laundry. Knowing there was no way I’d fall back asleep, I got dressed in some clean clothes and pushed myself out of the tent. The compound was quiet, and I could see the sun just barely rising behind the clubhouse as I stretched. Might as well get up and get some fucking coffee.

  I stepped into my boots and grabbed my smokes, lighting one as I walked toward the front door. All the bays were closed up for the night, but I knew the door to the main room would be open. There was always someone awake inside, especially when we were on lockdown.

  “Up early,” Poet greeted, lifting his mug in my direction as I stepped inside the clubhouse. His hair was all fucking over the place and his beard was massive, like he’d just woken up, but his eyes were clear and sharp.

  “Yep,” I murmured, stopping next to him at the bar.

  I grabbed a mug and poured myself some coffee as he watched me closely.

  “Still havin’ bad dreams, are ya?” he asked quietly.

  I barked out a short laugh at the way he’d phrased it. Bad dreams? More like night terrors.

  “Not so bad anymore,” I replied, as I sat down on the barstool next to him.

  “Amy’s got ’em,” he said simply, turning his entire body toward me. “Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

  “Didn’t say I was ashamed.”

  “Actin’ like it, are ya not?”

  “Go back to bed, old man,” I murmured into my cup. “Your Irish is showing.”

  He jerked in surprise, then laughed, “Maybe so.”

  “Her dreams get better?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

  “Are the dreams better? Can’t say they are,” he said sympathetically. “Happens less and less though, as time goes on. Used to be, she said she had them every night. Now, well, mostly happens when somethin’ triggers a memory.”

  “So, the rest of my life then,” I barked out a humorless laugh. “Fuckin’ fantastic.”