Chapter 7 Hawk
Callie screamed as I pulled her to my bike and threw a leg over it, kicking up the stand and starting the engine as a low rumble roared to life beneath me. “Get on!”
She didn’t hesitate, slamming her bottom onto the seat and wrapping her arms around my waist. A ripple of lust sped through me, followed by a fierce need to protect her above all else. I couldn’t let anything happen to her. With the Dirty Death after us, she could be injured. Fuck!
I sped off, zooming across the parking lot and around a parked ambulance, increasing my speed as I blew by two Dirty Death MC members jumping on their rides.
Fuck. Me.
I heard the engines growling behind us and knew the DDMC was in pursuit. I couldn’t let them reach us or get close enough to fire off any shots. Callie was a fucking target behind me. I wasn’t allowing her to stay that vulnerable or end up hurt because of me or the club.
We whipped out of the parking lot at top speed, making a wide arc down the street and around the block, straight through a red light.
Cars honked as I lowered my head, concentrating on the intersection looming ahead.
If only it were the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have to worry about any of these cages ramming into us.
There were too many fucking vehicles on the road.
I steered the bike to the left, rolling up over the curb as Callie squealed, gripping my cut as we caught air for about two seconds, slamming back down on the asphalt with a vicious jerk. The rear tire fishtailed, and my bike swerved, but I didn’t slow down.
We rode over the sidewalk, barreling through pedestrians like they were fucking pins in a bowling alley.
No, I didn’t hit anyone, but they sure dived out of the way.
Smirking, I rolled the throttle toward me and shifted gears, grunting as the engine revved.
I thought I heard a gunshot as something bit into my side, but I ignored the sting, focusing on weaving in and out of the traffic.
Behind us, I heard a crash and knew the Dirty Death wasn’t far behind. “Hold on!” I shouted, spotting the oversized semi pulling out of a restaurant and onto the road. If I timed this right . . .
The truck driver honked as we cut him off, finishing his turn as he yelled out his window at us.
Callie smacked my arm as I laughed, relieved to find the other motorcycles couldn’t follow us yet.
We needed to lose them, but the desert didn’t hide much.
All I needed to do was confuse our scent and wait it out, hoping they’d give up with the evening crowd.
If Crow was right, those Dirty Death members were trackers.
The Downtown commercial corridor, known as the Water Street District, was a place to shop, dine, and visit the casinos.
If we could reach the parking garage off Market Street, I could find a place for us to hide my bike.
There was a bar that was friendly to the club.
They’d provide cover for a few hours until nightfall.
I rolled into the garage for one of the casinos as Callie shouted.
“You’re bleeding!”
Fuck. I guess one of those fuckers managed to graze me.
“I’ll live,” I announced, maintaining speed as we rode up a ramp, traveling upward until we reached the highest level. Thanks to the weekend, there weren’t any empty spaces. I found a big suburban parked in a row with other SUVs—the perfect vehicles to hide my bike.
“Hop off, honey. Give me a minute to stash our ride.”
She slipped off on shaky legs, hugging her torso as I carefully maneuvered my bike against the back wall, hidden where the light wasn’t as bright. The inner portion of the garage was far dimmer and would provide the discretion I needed.
I hissed as I stood, shaking off the numb feeling in my head. Dizzy, I stood still a few seconds before reaching inside to find the tarp I kept in my panniers. Covering my bike only took a minute, but the effort weakened me. I’d lost more blood than I realized.
With a groan, I stumbled toward Callie.
“Hawk!” She rushed toward me, pressing her hand against my side as I winced.
“I think there’s a bullet by my ribs,” I joked.
“Oh my god! How can you joke about that?”
My lips widened into a grin. “You worried about me, baby?”
She rolled her eyes. “You need medical attention, and we just left a hospital.”
“We can’t go back either.”
“I’m aware,” she snarked. “What do we do? You’re bleeding everywhere!”
“Nah. I just need you to make a bandage.”
She stared at me like I spoke a different language. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Well,” I began, staring at her tits and unable to hide my appreciation, “if you rip off the bottom half of that tank top, I bet it would work.”
She glanced at the white tank she wore, blinking at me as she considered it.
“Or I can keep bleeding. Up to you, beautiful.”
“Shit,” she cursed with her silky soft lips that I suddenly wanted to kiss again. She attempted to rip the material, but nothing happened. “Do you have a knife?”
“Sure do,” I realized, swaying slightly on my feet. Reaching into my cut, I grasped the knife and slapped it into her palm. “Don’t cut yourself, babe.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re calling me a lot of pet names.”
“I like the way they sound on my tongue. In the same way I’d like to see if you taste as delicious as you look.”
Oops. I said that part out loud instead of in my head.
A giggle escaped as she shook her head, using the blade to cut around her middle until she had a jagged but serviceable bandage. Creamy skin snared my attention as I reached out and slid a finger over her navel and up her ribcage.
Callie sucked in a breath. “Hawk. I need to wrap you up.”
Right. My hand dropped, and I shrugged off my cut, followed by my shirt. “You gotta hold my cut. It never touches the ground.”
She bit her lip and nodded, sticking her arms through the sleeves as she grabbed it. I had to fucking pause because seeing this sexy, fine woman wearing my leather turned me the fuck on.
“Fuck, Callie. You make me want an ol’ lady.”
“I don’t know what that means. Lift your arms so I can get a look at your wound.”
I held onto my shirt and obeyed, biting into the inside of my cheek at the fresh wave of pain slicing into my side.
Callie lowered her head, examining the gunshot wound. “It’s deep. I don’t know how you’re standing right now. There’s blood all down your side. People are going to notice.”
“They won’t. You’d be surprised how distracted people are and how much detail they miss. Too absorbed in their lives to pay attention. Plus, my jeans are dark denim.”
She gave me a look like she doubted my words. “Maybe. You would snag my attention, though.”
I couldn’t help grinning at that. Did she realize what she just admitted? This sexy woman found me attractive.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take my shirt and press it against the hole in my side. Then use the bandage. Not too hard to figure out, honey. It’s not brain surgery.”
She glared at me and folded the shirt. I held it to my side, then stretched the material around my middle, just enough left over to tie it.
“Make sure it’s tight,” I added, enjoying the flush in her cheeks as I riled her up a bit.
“That’s going to hurt.”
“And slow down the bleeding.” My hands fisted as she finished, breathing through the pain because I couldn’t pass out until we were safe. Goddamn. The entire left side of my body burned. Sweat beaded on my brow.
Don’t be a pussy, Hawk.
“This isn’t going to work for long,” she worried.
“I know. We just need to get to the Powder Keg.”
“What’s that?”
“A bar owned by a friend. He’ll take care of us.” I lifted my knuckles to brush along her cheek. “You’re doing great, Callie. Fucking amazing, baby. Just keep it up a little longer, okay?”
Her lower lip quivered, but she straightened her spine. “Okay.”
“Take off my cut and turn it inside out, then help me put it on. It’ll help hide my wound.”
Once I had it on, she reached for the zipper. “You want this zipped?”
“Yeah, better do it.” The two-way zipper proved quite convenient right now.
Once done, she smiled. “You look handsome, Hawk. Like we’re here on a date.”
Smirking, I had to laugh at that. “Never been on a date.”
“Why not?”
“I was only interested in fucking, nothing more. Dating seemed a waste of time. Either a chick wants my dick, or she doesn’t.”
My blunt response didn’t shock her as much as I expected. Yeah, I said that shit on purpose to see how she’d take it.
“You’re missing out. Dates are fun.” She shrugged. “Which way?”
I took a step in her direction, slipping an arm around her waist. “Does that mean you’re down to fuck?” Yep, teasing her was gonna be way too much fun.
She smacked my chest, and I winced.
“Omg, sorry!”
“Is that a no?” I lifted my hands when she swatted at me, chuckling at her heated cheeks. My gaze locked on hers, noticing the stormy gray had darkened. Was that lust? “Tell me you’re not thinking about my cock right now.”
“You’re idiotic. Shot, bleeding, and still thinking with the wrong head.”
“You bring out the beast in me.”
Caw...caw.
And the crow agreed.
About time he showed up. Where the fuck had he flown off to since those Dirty Death chased us? Goddamn crazy bird.
Callie blew out a breath. “Where’s the Powder Keg?”
“I’ll tell you for a kiss.”
“You can’t be serious right now.”
I slapped my hand over my chest. “As serious as a heart attack.”
This girl wasn’t like anyone I ever met. Feisty. Intelligent. Sharp-witted. So. Fucking. Beautiful. Not to mention, she could handle herself in a crisis.
Ol’ lady material.
And I swore I’d never have one. I enjoyed a different woman in my bed every night. Hell, I had a rotation of sweet butts in my room all week at The Roost. Sometimes, more than one partner at a time. Adventurous sex turned me on.