Chapter Two
Hawk
I push through the doors of the Steel Rebels clubhouse, the familiar smell of beer and cigarettes hitting me like a wave.
The place is buzzing, and at the low clack of billiard balls I immediately spot the guys already gathered around the table.
A half a dozen heads look up when I walk in, before everyone turns back to what it is they were doing.
“You’re late.”
I shake my head and strip off my jacket as I head over to the bar, the worn wood smooth beneath my fingertips when I lean against it.
“Got caught up with something,” I say, nodding in appreciation when the club’s vice president and unofficial bartender slides a cold one across the counter.
I grab it, the condensation already beading the glass when I pop the bottle and take a long swig.
I sigh as the cold liquid washes down my throat before turning to face the others.
“The game hasn’t even started yet,” I say, nodding to the men gathered around the pool table.
“That’s because we were waiting for you, asshole.”
“Told you I was caught up with something.”
Or rather, someone. A gorgeous woman with beautiful chocolate-brown eyes and hair so golden she looks like a freaking angel.
It’s pathetic, really, that every time I run into her in the hallway it’s the highlight of my day.
It’s always a pleasure watching the pretty woman blush and act all flustered when we talk.
A part of me wonders if she acts the same way around others.
“So, who is she?”
I shake my head at Knox and grab my beer before moving away to join the guys by the pool table.
“You’re late,” someone else calls out, echoing Knox’s first words to me, and I shake my head, grabbing a pool stick and watching the game that’s just starting.
Kyle, one of the MC’s prospects, lines up a shot, his brow furrowed in concentration, and I can’t help but smirk. I can already tell he’s going to miss.
“Come on, man, it’s been a year since you moved here and none of us has seen you take any interest in anything outside work or club business,” Knox says, joining me to watch the game. “Except the pretty neighbor you’ve mentioned a few times. So…have you asked her out yet?”
Kyle takes the shot and just as I predicted, he misses; the cue ball clanks harmlessly against the eight ball. I take another swig of the beer before turning to Knox. “What’s with the sudden interest in my personal life?”
“I’m the vice president of the Rebels. Can I not take an interest in the members’ lives outside the clubhouse?”
I think about it for a whole five seconds. “No.”
He rolls his eyes as he grabs a cue stick and walks to the pool table.
“Jesus, show some interest in members’ lives and you get treated with suspicion.
” I watch him take a shot before he turns back to look at me.
“You’re going to break a lot of hearts when they find out you already have your eyes on someone.
” He picks up his own beer and takes a swig, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“I don’t have time to date,” I respond, and isn’t that the honest truth. Between my work as a parole officer and club business, I already have my hands full. No, I shouldn’t be looking at women in any way, but even as the thought settles in there’s a flash of wide, chocolate-brown eyes in my head.
Amelia Belton.
I met her a week after moving to Chicago.
A week I’d spent trying to drown my sorrow in a bottle and never quite getting to the bottom of it.
I made a shit ton of mistakes that same week, including a drunken hookup with a woman I met at a bar.
A one-night stand which I’d hoped would ease the ache in my chest after losing the only family I had. After losing my brother.
I was grieving, so I fell into the arms of a woman whose name I didn’t even bother to ask. Whose face I don’t even remember. A warm body against mine for a night I barely recall. A night that left me feeling haggard and worn.
No, moving to a new city hadn’t changed anything.
I couldn’t escape the guilt and pain. Hell, every time I closed my eyes, I still saw my older brother’s lifeless body, felt the immense guilt from not being able to protect him when he fell in with the wrong crowd.
The overwhelming sense of loneliness in knowing I had no family left in this world.
Then I saw her.
The morning I woke up after spending a drunken night in some hotel room, I was walking back to my apartment. She was standing right outside her door, trying to balance a violin case on her shoulder, the massive bag in her arms, and the phone pressed to her ear as she tried to lock her door.
Her hair, a cascade of sun-kissed blonde, flowed down her back and around her shoulders, each strand catching in the light like a thousand tiny mirrors.
She was wearing blue jeans that fit like a glove, hugging her curves and an ass I was tempted to walk over and touch.
She wore a cozy, muted gray sweater, and she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.
I couldn’t help but think that she looked like an angel. Sounded like one too.
“Are you sure? Like, absolutely sure that Monday’s rehearsals were pushed to today? But why didn’t anyone tell me? Oh God, I’m so late. I’m not going to make it in time.”
Even with all the things in her arms, she somehow managed to lock the door and when she turned to leave, our eyes collided in the most intense moment of my life.
Her chocolate-brown eyes widened in surprise before sparking with something.
I’d witnessed attraction in many women before, but this was different.
At least, the effect she had on me felt different than anything I’d ever experienced.
“Oh, hi there,” she said, her cheeks picking up the prettiest blush. “You’re the new neighbor, right?”
“Yes. I’m Hawk.”
“My name’s Amelia Belton and I…live here.” She nodded toward her door, her blush deepening, but before I could say anything more, her phone started ringing again. “Sorry, I…um, need to go.”
And then she fled, something she continued to do for the eleven months we’ve lived next door to each other. It’s always a mix of standing in the hallway, all shy and flustered, and running away at the sight of me. I can’t tell if I scare or excite her. Or both.
Still, something about that first encounter changed something inside of me.
For the first time in months, I found myself smiling.
Smiling at thoughts of my adorable neighbor, how quickly her face can take on different shades of pink and those eyes, Christ, they’re like melted chocolate. Warm…delicious.
A slap on the shoulder pulls me back to the present and I turn to find the guys staring. “What?” I ask defensively.
“It’s your turn to play,” Knox says, a curious look in his eyes.
He’s wrong if he thinks I’m going to discuss Amelia with them.
I place my beer to the side and join the guys to play, talking smack to each other with each missed stroke.
I stick to my one beer all evening and I realize, with amusement, that the Steel Rebels MC isn’t so different from their sister club.
I transferred here from the Steel Order MC, at the recommendation of my old MC president.
I thought the move would take time adjusting to, but Priest was right—it’s a good fit for me.
The guys here are just as crazy and loyal as those from my hometown.
We’re in the middle of the second round when a prospect approaches Knox and speaks to him in low tones.
I shrug it off as club business and even when they turn to look at me, I don’t think much of it.
As a parole officer, the club often turns to me for help with members who get themselves in trouble.
But then something about the way Knox’s face shifts tells me something is up.
He nods and then says something back to the prospect before the man walks away.
I pass the cue stick blindly to the guy standing next to me before making my way to Knox, a frown etched on my face. “What’s up?”
“Trouble,” he says sympathetically, which confuses me. “We need to talk. Let’s head to Saint’s office.”
“What’s this about?” I ask even as I follow him down the hallway.
He doesn’t respond, and when I walk into the office, it’s to be met with another sympathetic look from the club’s president.
Saint is Priest’s cousin. The two look nothing alike, but leadership must run in their family as they are both exceptional leaders to their respective MCs.
“Have a sit, Hawk,” Saint says.
“What is this about?” I ask again, too unnerved to take a seat. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re about to announce the loss of a family member. Except my whole family is dead.”
“It’s more like a gain,” Knox says cryptically.
Before I can ask him to elaborate, there’s a knock on the door and in walks a woman I’ve never seen before.
She’s young, dressed in a dark suit with a firm look that screams authority, but even more surprising is the bundle she’s carrying in her arms along with what looks like a baby carrier.
“Jax Drayton?”
I nearly jerk at the sound of my name on the woman’s lips. A name I don’t use outside official settings. Even the men I help rehabilitate call me Hawk. Everyone at work does as well, so sometimes I forget the name I carried in a different time, a different life.
But this woman knows my name. Is she maybe the lawyer or spouse of one of the men I help? How the hell did she find me here? And why?
With a frown, I step forward and stand in front of the lady. “That’s me. And you are?”
“My name is Kelly Davis, and I work for DCFS—”
“DCFS?”