Page 97 of Hawk

“Tessa has cancer. They’re not sure how bad it is.”

“We have a boy,” I lie. Bringing Sam up wasn’t in the plans, but I’m hoping he’ll have some fucking compassion. He doesn’t need to know Sam’s age. If he did, I don’t know how he’ll react. Sam does have Diablo blood flowing through his veins, and I’m not sure how seriously Jr. takes that.

“She’s been gone all these years, and now she’s home because she’s–” my voice cracks, “dying and I want her to make as many memories with him before it’s too late. She won’t leave the house because of her fears. That’s not the way for her to live, not when we don’t know how much time she has left.”

“What do I get in return? I have a fucking reputation to keep. What the fuck do you think people are going to say about me if I continue to hand my men over to you? It’s fucked up that you’d ask me to do that.”

“I hear Tre isn’t even this chapter anymore.”

“So you’ve been looking? Why the fuck did you even bring me here if you’ve been looking on your own?”

“We brought you here because the piece of shit hasn’t been visible for over a year.”

“Then, for all we know, he might be dead with the rest of them.” He turns and addresses Cut. “I’d hate for our truce to be over with. I don’t want to start doing shit old school, but if you’re going to start going after mine, then I’m going to start coming after yours.”

Cut squeeze his eyes shut. His jaw tenses. He takes a deep breath before opening his eyes. “I’ve asked you here to discuss this because one, you’re a father and I can only imagine the shit you went through when Redding took your little girl. Picture having five animals taking their turns with her. Fucking her, biting her, pissing on her. Can you imagine how, as a father, you’d be able to handle that? I respect you, Louie. You’ve pulled your club from the pile of shit your father put it in. Not everyone would be able to do what you did. Most clubs would have folded, but you didn’t back down, and because of that, the stain that was once on the Diablos name is no more. Don’t prove me wrong, because I don’t like to be wrong. I’m asking as a man, do the right thing. Ease the burden this woman has been living through all these years. Let her finally rest easy.”

Louie pushes himself up and heads towards the door. “Heard he was up in a small town in southern Colorado–Capulin. Ask for Edwardo at the local bar. He’ll help you.” He pulls the door opens and leaves.

Finally giving me some fucking hope.

Hawk

The dirt circles around our bikes as we park next to the bar. “You know how this shit is going down, right?” I ask Cruise after I pull my helmet off.

He shakes his long blond faux hawk as soon as his helmet is off his head. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Hawk. I know what the fuck to do.”

I haul my leg over my bike at the same time as him. “That’s not what I fucking mean. I’m taking the lead on this one.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” he tells me as he locks his helmet to the bike.

I grab his arm. “This isn’t up for discussion. I take that fucker out.”

He pulls from my grip and takes a step towards me. “Do you know what’s it been like all these years living with that fucking picture in my mind. The guilt? Would you like me to describe it for you?” His blue eyes bore into mine. “The way her wails and shrieks of pain ring in my ears? How she fought time after time only to be beaten down until she didn’t have a fight left? I’m not sure what Tessa has told you, but I’ve seen it. So whatever it is that your little brain is picturing right now, make it twenty times worse. You have no idea how lucky she is to be alive. Not after what I saw. No one should have survived that.” He takes a step back and heads towards the bar.

“This isn’t your fight!”

He looks over his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

* * *

We both take a seat at the bar. The bartender looks at us both, his gaze landing on the patches of our cuts. He leans over and says, “I’m Edwardo, what can I get for ya?”

“I think you know,” I tell him.

His eyes scan the area before he leans on the bar. “Rumor has it that he’s held up in a little house at the end of town.” He slides a piece of paper towards me, then stands up and turns his back. “I’ll get you both those beers,” he says over his shoulder as he pulls the tap down, filling the frosted glass.

To make it less conspicuous, Cruise and I decide to make the journey to the address on the paper on foot. There’s no reason to draw attention to ourselves by riding our bikes. Plus, we don’t want the sound of our engines tipping him off. Before we leave the bar, we push our bikes around back in a shed. I grab the pack and container I have mounted to the side, and we make the trip a few streets over.

It’s close to eleven at night. Most of the lights are out in the houses as we pass them. The fewer people that are up, the less likely they’ll be able to call the cops. When we reach the address that’s written on the paper, the house is dark, not even a porch light.

“Do you think this is right?” Cruise asks in hushed tones.

“Yeah. I don’t think Jr. would lead us down the wrong path.”

I move from off the sidewalk, towards the back of the house. None of the homes have fences in this neighborhood, so it makes it easier. When we reach the back door, I take the gun from my belt before grabbing for the slider.

“Hey.” Cruise grips my hand. “Let me go first.” Before I open my mouth to tell him where he can go, he continues, “I’m saying if he’s waiting for us, I’m better off taking a bullet or whatever else he’s got planned. You’ve got people counting on you.”