Chapter 8 Callie
“Is he going to be okay?” I asked, pacing the room where Marcus and his bouncers had brought Hawk.
The Powder Keg seemed like a typical bar until I got ushered through a series of rooms, some of them with private parties, stripper poles, and people engaging in sexual acts. Like right out in the open. On furniture. Against the wall.
A woman pleasuring three men on a pool table.
What the hell? Was this a porn studio or something? Did hidden cameras record all of this for entertainment?
“I’ve contacted Falcon. He’ll know what to do.”
“Falcon?” I asked, perplexed.
“A healer.”
Like a doctor? Hawk needed that bullet removed and the wound sewn by a professional. Not some back alley butcher who didn’t have medical expertise or education.
I hoped Marcus knew what the big wounded biker wanted because I didn’t have a clue.
Hawk groaned but didn’t open his eyes as Marcus turned him onto his stomach. He pulled a knife from his pocket and leaned toward the leather vest Hawk wore.
“Don’t you dare cut into that,” I ordered, stomping over to Marcus. “That’s sacred to him.”
Marcus smirked. “Alright. Help me remove it.”
Carefully, we balanced Hawk and removed the vest, draping it over a nearby chair.
Marcus tossed the blood-soaked shirt into the trash, bellowing for a bottle of whiskey.
He checked on the wound, nodding as someone brought him a first aid kit along with a bottle of dark amber fluid.
I watched as he doused Hawk’s side with the liquor and then patted the skin dry.
He placed a new bandage over the wound and added the one I’d made from my shirt to the trashcan with the other supplies he had discarded.
I stood a few feet to the side, anxious, staring at the exposed back of sculpted muscle.
Tanned skin caught my attention briefly, but it was the dark ink I couldn’t help but admire.
Black feathers formed giant wings spreading out from Hawk’s shoulder blades and reaching outward to the edges of his torso.
The exquisite detail made them appear real as if you could blink, and they would sprout free from his body and help him take flight.
Breathtakingly beautiful. I never saw a tattoo as ideally suited to someone as this one.
I thought of the crow that seemed to shadow Hawk wherever he went this afternoon, even following us to the Powder Keg.
The man I’d met harbored dark secrets and an affiliation with a dangerous motorcycle club.
Yet his playful, teasing nature and passionate responses contradicted the image I’d conjured in my head about bikers.
I couldn’t help my attraction to this man. He placed my safety above his own and insisted on protecting me from the Dirty Death and Undertaker.
I knew nothing about that club, only the rumors and minimal evidence I uncovered with Bree. But knowing they worked with the mayor was enough.
My thoughts drifted to the words Hawk said as we left the hospital. I think they already know who you are.
Of course! It made sense. Even if the mayor hadn’t figured it out, Undertaker probably knew about me. Maybe he used my safety as a threat against Sadie. She would do anything to prevent the Dirty Death MC from harming me if she believed I was in danger. Even sacrificing herself.
Shit. Now, I had a whole new set of concerns and worries.
On a whim, I pulled out my cell and dialed Carson’s number. No change. Straight to voicemail.
Sighing, I watched as Marcus crossed the room, talking to a few of his men. He ticked his head in my direction.
“Falcon’s here. He’ll fix Hawk good as new.”
“Uh, thanks.”
The biker who walked into the room wearing a Devil’s Murder MC vest seemed like he should be in a hospital wearing a white coat instead.
He wore jeans and a shirt with thick stripes of varying shades of blue but none of the chains or chunky rings or piercings that adorned Hawk’s body.
Another biker who didn’t fit a stereotype. I liked that.
He had dark blond hair with a side part, tapered close to his head and longer on top. Something you’d see in every magazine or billboard for men. He looked clean, like right from a shower, without a wrinkle in his clothes. Other than the leather vest, I would have no indication he was a biker.
Falcon walked to the bed, his gaze roaming over me from head to toe before he nodded. “You’re not injured. That’s good. Hawk wouldn’t like it if anyone harmed you.”
How the hell did he know that? Had Hawk found a way to text him without me noticing? That didn’t seem possible.
“I’m Falcon, as you probably guessed. I’m good at puzzles and first aid. If you’re here, you mean something to Hawk. That’s none of my business, but I’d like to check on him.”
I moved out of his way, settling on the opposite side of the bed to observe without being in Falcon’s way. “He got shot trying to protect me. We would have gotten out of there if I hadn’t been so stubborn.”
“Don’t lay the burden on yourself, honey. Those men intended to shoot Hawk, and they did. Not a single part of that had anything to do with you.”
I couldn’t agree. Guilt for taking too long to join him allowed those Dirty Death members to get close.
“I need to dig out that bullet.” He stood, gathering supplies from a bag he had brought with him. “Scrub in. I’ll need your help.”
I assumed he meant washing my hands and scrubbing underneath my nails, so I left Hawk’s side, slipping off the mattress. The adjoining bathroom to this room had an enormous double sink. Once I finished thoroughly cleaning my hands, I returned, asking how I could help.
“He’s going to be madder than a hornet’s nest. It’ll hurt and probably wake him up when I start. Be prepared.”
For what? I couldn’t hold Hawk down if he decided to react violently or push us away.
Falcon must have sensed my unspoken question. “If he wakes up, start talking to him. Your voice will soothe and distract him enough that I can finish.”
“Okay.” I didn’t see how that was possible, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
“Do you think you can keep him propped on his side while I work?”
“Sure.” That sounded far more confident than I felt.
Settling next to Hawk, I gripped his shoulder as he faced me. His body leaned in my direction, one arm resting between us on the mattress.
Once Falcon’s knife dug below Hawk’s skin, it didn’t take long for his eyes to snap open. “Fucking hell!”
“Stay still, you crazy fucker. I’ve got my knife in your side.”
“What the hell for!?”
“The bullet in your flank, far too close to your intestines, remember?”
Hawk grunted, his head flopping back onto the pillow. He stared at the ceiling for about two seconds before his gaze swept the room, landing on me. “Callie. You’re not hurt, right? You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Staring into his hazel eyes that seemed almost green today, I hesitated to move since I didn’t want to disturb Falcon and cause Hawk further pain.
“You look worried, beautiful. I’ll be fine.” He cursed, gritting his teeth. “Are you fucking done yet, Falcon?”
“Almost.”
I smirked at Hawk’s bravado. “You can admit it hurts.”
“And appear weak to the sexy goddess at my side? No way.”
He remembered every endearment I mentioned and made a point to call me every single one. What a flirt.
I loved it. It wasn’t hard to become attracted to him when he made me smile so darn much. “Well, at least your humor is returning.”
He winked, then grimaced. “Fucking hell.”
“There! Got it,” Falcon declared. He dropped the bloody bullet on the nightstand. “Let me get you sewed up.”
“Finally,” Hawk mumbled.
“Should I keep my hands on him?” I asked Falcon.
“Yes, please,” Hawk answered with a broad smile.
Falcon smirked. “Yeah. He needs help with that giant ego of his.”
“Don’t be jealous,” Hawk quipped, reaching out to cradle the side of my face. A slight frown marred his brow. “You look tired. Need a nap? We’ve got this big bed.”
Falcon snorted. Hawk ignored him.
“Maybe later. He’s about to stick a needle and thread into your skin and stitch you up. I think I should stay awake for that.”
I had to stifle a yawn, realizing the day had taken a toll. Exhaustion was creeping in.
“Eh, I’ve had worse.” His fingertips gently caressed my jaw. “It’s normal after the adrenaline dump to feel tired.”
“Your world is a bit crazy.”
“Not with you in it.”
I blinked, noting the serious expression on his face. “You sound like you mean that.”
“I do.”
“We just met,” I pointed out, glancing at Falcon as he continued stitching Hawk’s wound closed. “Isn’t this a bit fast?”
“No one said you gotta marry me, beautiful.”
I thought over his words. “What are you asking of me?”
“Let me protect you until the threat is eliminated.”
“And afterward?”
“We’ll figure that out when it’s time.”
“That’s a vague answer.”
He grimaced as Falcon finished up. “I guess you’ll just have to let things happen naturally, sweetling.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?”
“A lot. You’re too charming, and you like to flirt. I’m watching you, Mr. Biker.”
Falcon chuckled. “I like her. She doesn’t put up with your shit.”
Hawk flipped him off.
I couldn’t help giggling.
Falcon slapped a square bandage over Hawk’s side. “All done, precious. You should heal without a scar.”
Hawk winced. “You’re an ass, Falcon.”
“You fucking love me.”
“You bet I do, brother.”
“Awww. Should I leave you alone for the bromance?”
“Don’t you dare.” Hawk’s hand rested on my hip, tugging me a little closer. His eyes closed briefly and snapped open. “Stay.”
“I will,” I promised, fighting off my own fatigue.
“You should both rest. I’ll be around if either of you needs me. Doc’s orders.”
“Thanks, Falcon.”
My eyes drifted shut, and I relaxed, snuggling as close as I dared into Hawk’s warmth without causing him any discomfort. As I slipped into a peaceful slumber, I thought I heard Hawk whisper my name, followed by the word mine. No man had ever tried to claim me.
Maybe I’d give Hawk a chance.