Chapter 1 Hawk #2
In the corner, I spotted a 12-gauge and knew I couldn’t let him get close enough to use it.
I’d studied Brazilian jiu-jitsu after my old man used to knock me around as a kid.
The self-defense martial art and combat sport based on grappling, ground fighting, and submission holds had grown from a necessity to a passion.
I loved the flexibility and burn of my muscles, the flood of adrenaline when I pushed my body to the limit.
I stopped being a punching bag the day I stood up to my father and blocked the hit aiming for my head, shocking the hell out of him.
To this day, I never let a man get the best of me or gain the advantage. I learned to watch my opponents and anticipate their moves. That skill proved useful when I patched into the Devil’s Murder. I earned my place in the club with blood, sweat, and loyalty and never looked back.
So when I saw this motherfucker move toward his weapon, I never had to think about what to do next. My body moved without conscious thought.
I let the hammer drop.
Lunging in his direction, I lifted his leg, knocking the abusive fucker off balance.
He crashed to the ground, groaning as I swung my fist. The brass knuckles I wore grazed the left side of his face as his head bounced off the carpet.
I swung a few more times, enjoying the splatter of blood and his swelling face.
Motherfucker deserved a hell of a lot worse.
I whipped my gun free, pointing the barrel at his forehead. “We’re gonna get something straight, asshole. You lift a finger to hurt another woman, and I’ll be back.” I pointed to the patches on my cut. “You see these?”
He squinted, nodding as he read the Devil’s Murder MC logo.
“I’ll return with my entire club. Trust me when I say they won’t find anything left of you to bury. I know everywhere in the fuckin’ desert to scatter your pathetic ass for the crows to feast.”
“Fuck,” he spit, turning his head while he groaned. “That bitch isn’t worth it.”
His remark pissed me off. “You don’t ever lift a finger to hurt a woman again. Got it?”
His hand rose, and he flipped me off. “Fuck you.”
Really? This guy was dumber than I thought. Did he think I was messin’ around?
His attitude needed an adjustment. I called to the crow, grinning wide when I heard him rush inside the house through the open front door, flapping his wings and scolding the bloodied man on the ground.
“I guess this lesson is gonna be learned the hard way.”
I stomped on his right hand, feeling several of his bones snap. He screamed as I pistol-whipped the side of his head, watching with satisfaction as his eyes rolled back.
“Lights out, bitch.”
Yanking my knife out of my cut, I bent down, carving wife beater into his forehead. With any luck, it would leave a scar.
Caw...caw.
“Yeah. Yeah. You’re getting your turn. Take his eye.”
Backing away, I stared down at the bloody message forever etched into this prick’s skin. Maybe that would stop his abuse.
The crow hopped on his chest, quivering with excitement. His beady eyes blinked before his head tilted to the side. Another caw escaped.
“No. Only one eye. Don’t kill him.”
The crow protested, hopping around as he berated me for denying him justice.
“Hey. We’ve been over this. We don’t kill unless it’s necessary.”
The crow’s puffed chest deflated. He turned around, shaking out his onyx feathers.
“Just the one eye,” I reminded him.
All I got in response was a short, exasperated caw.
Fucking cranky ass bird.
I dropped to the floor, picked up the limp left hand, and snapped the rest of this asshole’s fingers.
There. A matching set.
“Have fun wiping your ass, you abusive fuck.”
The crow tittered, perching on the man’s nose. He stared me down.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll leave you to peck his eye in peace.”
Damn.
Mumbling about the crow’s ridiculous need to feast without an audience, I stomped outside, pausing to pick up a pack of smokes off the end table.
I ignored the blood staining my fingers and plucked out a cigarette, lighting up as I sat on a chair.
The tiny porch didn’t have much furniture, but I managed to plant my boots on the worn metal table, waiting for the cops to show up.
Made me smile as I inhaled to know I stole them from the man inside.
“Is he dead?”
The young woman watched me smoke an entire cigarette before speaking, her gaze falling on the bloodied brass knuckles I slipped off, wiping on my jeans before slipping into a pocket.
“Nope. Bet he wishes he was once he wakes up, though.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Why?”
“Let’s just say an eye for an eye.”
She sank onto an empty chair across from me. “Jed didn’t start out hitting me.”
“Doesn’t matter, honey.”
“I guess not.”
“Anyone you want to call?” I asked, smacking the pack into my palm before sliding out another of the Marlboro Reds. Picking up my lighter, I lit the end, drawing the nicotine into my lungs.
“My sister Callie.”
“I reckon you don’t have a phone.”
She shook her head. “Too much money.”
“Bet he spent whatever he wanted.” Asshole. “Here.” I swiped across my cell as I pulled it from my cut. “Call your sister. Tell her where to find you.”
She didn’t hesitate to reach for the device, tapping in her sister’s number. I heard it ring twice before a sexy as fuck female voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Callie, it’s me.”
“Sadie!? Are you okay?”
“No, but I think I will be,” she managed to say before the tears began to fall.
I stood up, giving her a little privacy as I watched the road for red and blue lights. Once I had my phone call, I’d let Rook and the club know where I got locked up. Not much point in contacting my pres until then. Wasn’t shit they could do.
“So, Sadie,” I began, accepting my cell as she handed it over. “I can call you Sadie, right?”
“I think you earned the right,” she joked, wincing when the half smile on her lips tugged at the cut and bruising beginning to form around her mouth.
“Tell me you won’t be a man’s punching bag again.”
“No.” She touched the side of her swollen face. “That’s why I left him.” She stared at me with big brown, curious eyes, even if one of them couldn’t open more than a slit.
Nodding, I realized that was why I found her on the road. “My old man liked to solve problems with his fist,” I admitted, answering her unspoken question, “when I was strong and big enough, I learned to become better at it than he did.”
She swallowed hard. “You hit him back?”
“Only took one night to set him straight,” I mused aloud, taking a long hit from the cigarette. “He spent three months in rehab and never could walk right again after I busted his knees and ankles with a bat. Didn’t hurt my mamma again until I moved out.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah. He got to her one night when I was out of town.” Fuck. I didn’t want to think about that night.
“She’s gone?” Her eyes filled with tears, not for what she endured, but because of my loss.
“I couldn’t save her,” I choked, hating the memory.
Sadie’s breath sawed in and out of her chest as she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
What a sweetheart. She deserved better than the life she’d known.
“I got justice,” I replied with finality.
And that was the cold, hard truth. The reason I didn’t care if I spent time behind bars.
I did it once to save a woman’s life and it seemed like a damn good reason to repeat the experience.
My mother survived another ten years on this earth before the man who fathered me ended her life.
At least I could say he didn’t breathe for long afterward.
Something in me closed off and hardened when I lost my mom. I shut off my emotions after burying her. To this day, I kept my heart guarded. Didn’t believe in love or romance. Maybe someday I would meet the woman who made that statement a lie.
Sadie swallowed, placing her hand over mine. “Thank you for getting justice for me too.”
“You’re welcome, honey.”
She withdrew her hand, sliding it across the table and onto her lap. “Is Hawk your real name? Or just the one you use?” Her gaze swept over my cut, reading the patches.
“It’s my road name.”
“Okay. A pleasure to meet you, Hawk.”
Smirking, I nodded. “You ain’t lyin’.”
We didn’t say much else, sitting in the warm night air until the cops finally arrived. Cuffed and placed in the back of a cruiser, I ticked my head her way. “Don’t forget about my bike.”
“I won’t. I’ll make sure it gets to your club.”
Satisfied, I rested back against the seat.
Caw...caw.
The crow landed a few feet away, swaying his head from side to side before shaking out his feathers.
“I know.”
Gonna be a long while before I set foot outside as a free man again.