Chapter 11
HAWK
T he second I saw the state of Gemma’s studio, I’d felt something split wide open inside me. The beast pacing just beneath the surface had surged forward.
My knuckles tightened around my phone as I stepped away from Gemma to call Maverick. She stood frozen beside me, her fingers trembling as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“You good?” Maverick asked when he picked up. He’d known where we were, so he probably assumed I wouldn’t have a reason to call unless there was a problem.
“I need help with cleanup at Gemma’s studio.” My voice was low and even despite my pulse thundering in my veins. “Front’s been tagged, lights smashed, and the yard is a fucking mess. They even gouged the door.”
“You check the security footage?”
“No cameras caught it. Bastard knew we’d upgrade the system, avoided detection outside, and didn’t step foot in the studio.”
“Fucking hell. Okay, I’ll get a few prospects out there and a couple of patches to supervise.”
“Thanks. See if Stone is around. Going to need help keeping the police outta this shit.”
“Done.”
I hung up and stared at the vulgar streaks on the siding again, imagining how it would feel to slam the man responsible face-first into the concrete.
Gemma let out a shaky breath and stepped a little closer to me.
I turned and pulled her back into my arms, inhaling deep to calm the heat boiling in my blood.
Her eyes darted around, her mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing came out.
She just buried her face in my shirt and took several deep breaths.
But her attempts to calm herself didn’t work, and when I heard her sniffle, I decided whoever had done this would suffer before he met his end.
Before we could say anything else, Stone pulled up on his hog. He dismounted slowly, like he had all the time in the world, but I knew better. Stone moved deliberately when he was sizing up a situation. Especially when he wanted the person responsible to sweat.
He took one look at the door, then glanced toward Gemma. “You call this in?”
“What do you think, asshole?” I snarked in a bone-dry voice.
Stone shrugged. “Just checking. Getting a feel for what I’m dealing with. I’ll file a police report for the paper trail and insurance.”
Gemma looked up at me. “I—should I have reported it?”
Before Stone could respond, I dropped my head so our faces were inches apart, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You don’t call the cops, Gemma. You call me. And I was already here.”
She blinked up at me, swallowing hard.
“I’ll handle it. Always.”
Stone made a sound like a dry chuckle. “You’re his now, sweetheart. That makes you one of us.”
Her breath hitched, her cheeks turning a soft rose. “I—I’m not?—”
“Yes,” I cut in, voice flat. Final. “You are.”
She stared at me, lips parted, hope flickering in her eyes.
“You’re mine, baby.”
When I finally raised my head, Stone was smirking at me. “Better knock her up. Lock that shit down.”
“Working on it.”
Gemma flushed scarlet, the color flooding her from her ears down to her collarbone.
I grinned, but before I could say anything else, the rumble of bikes echoed off the buildings. Wrecker pulled up first, followed by Racer and a pair of fresh-faced prospects. They dismounted, eyes sharp as they took in the mess.
Gemma instinctively burrowed into my side, and I curled my arm tighter around her.
She knew they’d never hurt her, but they were still intimidating motherfuckers.
Wrecker sauntered over to us and caught her eye, giving her a rare smile. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ve seen worse. This is nothing. Don’t even have any blood to clean up.”
Gemma stiffened, and I glared daggers at my brother.
“Appreciate you coming out,” I said before he could say anything else stupid and force me to shut him up with my fist. Or my Glock. I was on the fence about that.
“No problem,” he murmured, his humor dissipating as his attention turned to the destruction. “Told Mav we’d make it look like it never happened.”
We got to work, and it helped keep me from losing my shit, but the fire in my gut was growing by the second.
I was dumping a load of trash into her bin when my phone rang.
Not bothering to check who was calling, I answered, “Yeah.”
“I found it,” Deviant announced.
“Found what?”
There was a short pause before he responded, and I knew that meant it was bad.
“A hidden forum. Encrypted by invitation only. Buried fucking deep on the dark web. There are portfolios, private photo sets…all of them intimate shots of men and women, or both. And a lot of them are completely nude. Gemma’s watermark is on at least three of the boudoir samples.”
“Portfolios? Samples?” My hand closed around the edge of the trash can so tightly it cut into my palm. “Why wou—” Then it hit me. “They’re fucking selling them?”
“It’s a fucking black market. Voyeur shit. Password-protected trades, timed auto-deletes, rotating proxies. Think dark web, but worse. Encrypted and buried behind dead-drop servers. Took me all night to crack. But I have a lead.”
The world dimmed around me. All I could see was her face. That light in her eyes when she talked about helping women feel beautiful. About building something sacred.
And these fucking bastards had turned it into a market.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.
“I’ll keep digging. I’ll text when I have a trace on the account owner.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “I should also warn you. I’m sure there are stolen photos from other photographers, but…”
My gut clenched at the anger vibrating in his voice.
“I don’t think all of the photo shoots were consensual.”
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
“I don’t have proof with the professional pictures, but there is something about the expressions on some of these people. They can’t completely hide the fear.”
“You think they’re being coerced? Blackmail?” I guessed.
Deviant sighed. “Or forced.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Not all of the pictures are staged, though. It’s obvious that some were taken when the subject had no idea they were being watched.”
His words took a few seconds to sink in, then the fury I’d been stamping down broke through my carefully constructed barriers.
“What the fuck?” I roared.
“Keep it together, Hawk,” Deviant snapped. “Gonna send your girl runnin’ if you don’t.”
My teeth ground together until my jaw ached. Rage blistered inside me, stretching the edges of my control until it nearly ripped free. Deviant was right, but the beast inside me didn’t give a shit. It wanted out. It wanted a fucking blood bath.
“Let you know when I have more, but you should get back here as soon as you can. Fox wants to strategize.”
Then he hung up.
I stood there, breathing heavily and clenching my fists while I tried to find the strength to contain the monster once more. Gemma didn’t need to see me like this. I didn’t want her to.
Then behind me, Wrecker’s voice cut through the haze. “You know why we call him Hawk, right?”
He had to be talking to Gemma.
Fuck!
“Because once he’s locked onto a target, he doesn’t blink. Never hesitates. Doesn’t stop until the motherfucker is gone. Until the threat is eliminated.”
There was a small gasp, and I froze. Afraid to turn around. To see her recoil. Worried I would see the trust in her eyes splinter.
But then I felt her steps behind me. Quiet. Steady. A second later, her hand curled gently around my arm. I turned, expecting distance, fear, or even disgust.
What I got was calm, reassuring brown eyes. Our gazes locked, and she searched mine for a second, then seemed to have a realization.
“I’m not scared of you, Callum,” she said softly. “I could never be. I know you’ll always keep me safe.”
I didn’t speak. I had no words to tell her what it meant to me to hear her say that.
So I just pulled her into me and kissed her.
One hand curled behind her neck, and the other gripped her waist. I didn’t care who saw it.
The whole damn street could stop to watch.
I kissed her like I needed her breath to survive. Because I did.
And I needed her to feel it. Everything I couldn’t say.
The claim. The promise. The fire.
We broke apart only when my phone buzzed with a text.
Deviant
Get back to the compound now. I have what we need.
“We’re leaving,” I told her as I showed her the message. “The guys will finish the cleanup.”
“But—”
“I need you with me, baby. Locked up tight behind steel and concrete. Otherwise, I won’t be able to think straight.”
She didn’t argue. She never did when I put shit like that—knowing it wasn’t up for debate when it came to her safety.