Hawk
“Stella,” I bark, hoping my voice carries across the compound. “You know how to work this goddamn thing?” I’m in Phantom’s office, looking from my phone to the printer.
I throw my phone on Phantom’s desk. “I gotta fill out this damn form, and I need you to…” I must be really fired up about this shit because I’m pacing the small office Phantom uses, and Stella is clearly holding back laughter. “What the shit is so funny?” I snap.
“It’s handled, babe,” she says, using the word she uses when I get like this. A gentle hand on my arm usually calms me down, but today, when she rests her palm on my forearm, I yank it back.
“Ouch, goddamnit.”
Stella looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind, and for a minute, I think I have.
I hold out my arm to her. “I got burned. Then this bitch from the school called and yelled at me. It’s not even been one day, and I am fucking done with this babysitting gig.”
Stella purses her lips and nods. “Let’s get something on that arm, okay? You’ll feel better when you’re not in so much pain.”
I’m not in so much pain. I mean, it’s a small injury, all right.
I’m just… I don’t know. Feeling shit. Guilt that the kids were late.
Anger that the school cussed me out over the smallest thing.
I’m pissed that Phantom’s gonna think I fucked up the only thing I need to be responsible for over the next few days—his kids.
Stella leaves me in Phantom’s office but returns a few minutes later with a glass of water and a couple of pills. “This will take the edge off the pain.”
I cup the drugs in my hand and look them over. “What’s this?” I ask. “I gotta be sharp for the kids.”
“These aren’t party drugs, Hawk.” She lifts a brow at me. “It’s an anti-inflammatory. Will take down some of the sting of that burn.”
I throw them back and chase them with the water.
Stella’s not a hard partier. Neither am I.
That’s why Phantom and Poppy left their kids in our care.
Sure, there are other guys who could have done it, but…
Ah, fuck. I don’t know why they picked us, but all I know is if the kids get in late tomorrow, it’ll be my ass on the chopping block.
I drain the water glass, and Stella gives me a sweet smile. “Now, chin up. I printed out the form from the principal. She emailed it to me, and I just texted it to you.”
I look from Stella to the printer—an ancient thing that I don’t think Phantom’s ever turned on. “How’d you get it back to her?”
She pulls her phone from her pocket. “I got skills, baby. Don’t you forget it.”
I scrub my hands over my face and sigh. Those little tablets must be doing something because I’m already feeling a lot less irritable. “Thanks for handling it.”
She nods, turns on her stacked flip-flops, and sashays back down toward the kitchen. I’m about to lock up Phantom’s office when my phone starts ringing.
“Hey, man.” The call is not coming through on the secure app we use to communicate about club business, so Phantom must be calling just to check in. “How’s it going?”
Phantom is normally a man of few words, and today is no exception. “How are you?” he asks pointedly.
I sigh. “I’ve been burned, verbally abused, and shamed,” I tell him. “But your kids only did one of those.” My mind flits back to the sultry—and somewhat snotty—voice from Palm High. “So yeah, we’re killing it over here.”
I hear a throaty chuckle. “All right,” he says. “Shadow and Violet are crashing your evening tonight. Violet wants to cook dinner for you and the kids.”
I groan but only a little. “I can handle it, Phantom,” I tell him, but I’m not even sure I believe that.
“I know you can,” he says. “Look, kids are a lot. Even perfect kids like my girls.” He pauses as if I’m gonna correct him or say absolutely anything to contradict that belief.
I’d sooner smash my own balls with a bat than suggest Holly and Daisy are less than perfect.
“You’ve got this, but Violet’s feeling bad she couldn’t offer to stay herself this time, so she wants to make sure you’re all good. Let her do that.”
By the time I get off the phone and wander back into the living area, one of our prospects, a kid called Tank, is playing video games while Savage scrolls through his phone.
Savage is a dad now, but I remember when his old lady and her kid were brand-new to the club.
Scared little things that had been through hell.
Somehow, Savage and Claire connected deeply and were able to work past all the shit they both had in their lives.
Now, they are raising her daughter Aurora together.
“I could use some advice.” I nod at Savage. “Kid shit.”
Tank takes one hand off his video game controller and pats the seat on the leather couch next to him. “I got you,” he tells me. “I’m an official uncle to like—”
I clamp a hand on Tank’s shoulder. The kid’s build is how he got his nickname. We recruited him a while back after we went through some dirty shit with a few of the prospects and had to clean house.
“Asshole, you focus on stealing cars. The grown-ups are talking.”
Tank chuckles and curses me out under his breath. Savage studies me like he’s not sure whether I’m serious or giving him shit.
“What is it?” he asks. “You in some kind of trouble?”
I shrug one shoulder. “I will be if I get Phantom’s kids to school late again.”
Tank blows a long, hard breath from his lips, and I air-smack the back of his head, not actually making contact.
Savage just grins and holds up his hands. “I don’t know a goddamn thing about teenagers.”
From behind the bar, I hear Stella crack open a bottle. Shit, I guess it is noon someplace. I wander over and plop down on a stool, taking a cold one from her and chugging it down.
“I’ll stay over tonight,” she says. “I did it the last time Jax had a travel tournament. You gotta get the kids up in the morning and basically drill-sergeant their asses until they are in the car.”
I set the half-empty beer on the counter. “I’ve managed a crew of criminals easier than getting two girls off to school.” I look down at the shiny red burn on my arm and snort. “I thought they took care of themselves at this age.”
She chuckles. “They mostly do. But mornings…” She shrugs and waves her long nails at me. “Even I don’t do mornings.”
I roll my neck and check the time. “This kid shit is a full-time job.”
“Don’t I know it,” Savage calls out. “Best job in the world, though.”
I think back to the principal, Miss High and Mighty.
After just one morning with Holly and Daisy, I don’t think you could pay me all the money in the world to run a school full of chuckleheads.
I can hardly wrangle two girls. A school of, what, a couple thousand?
Running drugs and beating up thugs is no doubt an easier gig.
I finish off my beer, then push the empty across the counter at Stella.
“Stay here tonight,” I tell her. “Shadow and Violet are coming for dinner. I’ll handle the overnight and tomorrow morning.
” I don’t tell her that I’m calling in a big favor if anything burns me, attacks me, or otherwise threatens to destroy my peace—especially two adorable kids.
I’m going to play Uncle Hawk one more night, and if that doesn’t work, I’m calling it and tapping out.
I finish the last of the food on my plate like I haven’t eaten in weeks. “Violet, damn, that was good.” I stand and clear my plate from the table, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t mind.” She flicks a look at Shadow that is filled with meaning. “Why don’t you two take some time? I’ll clean up with the girls and get things set up for school tomorrow.”
I am pretty sure that the house rules here are if you cook, you don’t clean up, but Shadow has a look on his face that has me out of my chair.
“Right,” I say. I nod at him. “I’ll grab the beers.” As I head toward the fridge, I flick Daisy on the blue curl. “Heard from the wicked witch of Palm High this morning.”
Daisy sighs and gives me a double dose of rolled eyes as she hold’s Shadow and Violet’s little one. “I think you’re in trouble with her.”
“Me?” I can’t help the shock in my voice. “Okay. I can leave the house without doing—” I smash my fingers through my hair and wildly mess it up “—all of this.”
Holly takes one look at me, then meets Violet’s eyes, and all three of the women in the kitchen start laughing.
I shake my head, making my thick hair even wilder, and growl at them playfully. Then I snag two cold ones and start to follow Shadow to the back patio overlooking the pool.
Something in my gut stops me, and I put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s sit out front instead.”
Shadow follows me without comment, and I start to worry about what exactly is on his mind. Shadow’s been my brother for so long now, we hardly need to talk. Like Phantom and Savage and the rest of them, we say what needs to be said, but only if something needs dealing with.
A wave of tightness passes over my chest as we drop down into the wicker chairs on the front patio. There are security cameras and motion sensors on the house, but we leave the lights off and sit together in darkness.
“We got ears,” I tell him, nodding at the discreetly mounted camera.
After Phantom had some shit go down with his ex-wife, he had recording cameras installed everywhere—on his pool house, the back yard, even right on the front of the patio.
There’s no conversation I can’t have with Shadow and nothing I would say that I wouldn’t want the prez of the Heat to hear on his own front porch, but it can’t hurt to remind Shadow that we could be overheard.
He nods. “I’m all right with that.” He takes a long draw on his beer and then sighs. “I’m just frustrated. Phantom knows all about it.”
I sit back and let him talk, my eyes adjusting to the gradually darkening twilight.
“That arms deal, the one we did way back with Mad Dog,” Shadow says. “I’ve been thinking. About how we make our money. I want to expand into something legit, Hawk. Something I can own if I ever…”