Chapter 16
Sixteen
Hawk
My phone buzzed against the table, a relentless reminder that the world outside was still turning.
I ignored it, forcing myself to focus on the sprawling map laid out before me.
Knox was halfway through explaining the canyon route, and I was trying—really trying—to concentrate on the details that mattered.
Red lines cut through Idaho like veins, marking fuel stops, drop points, and timing windows. This was important shit—the kind of planning that keeps men alive and product moving. Normally, I could drown in the details, but tonight? My brain wouldn’t cooperate.
The phone buzzed again, piercing through my concentration. Then again.
Diesel glanced at it, then shot a look my way. “Your girlfriend’s calling.”
I didn’t even bother to look up. “Shut up.”
Ghost didn’t lift his eyes from his laptop, fingers still moving across the keyboard. “That’s not a call.”
Another buzz.
Text.
Finally, I grabbed the phone, my jaw tightening before I even opened it. The name on the screen was from a prospect, one of the younger guys stationed near Emma’s street.
Prez… she brought cinnamon rolls.
The room fell silent for a heartbeat, the air thickening with anticipation. Then another message came through.
She’s leaning on Torch’s bike.
My grip tightened around the phone as the third message hit me like a punch to the gut.
She said I was attractive.
God fucking damnit.
Diesel burst out laughing, his voice echoing off the walls. “Holy hell.”
Knox stopped mid-sentence, his attention now fully on me. “What happened?”
I set the phone down slowly, my mood shifting like the storm clouds gathering outside. “Emma.”
Diesel leaned forward in his chair, his interest piqued. “Oh, this should be good.”
Ghost finally glanced up from his laptop, his curiosity getting the better of him. “She provoking you again?”
I dragged a hand down my beard, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “She’s flirting with my men.”
Diesel barked out another laugh, clearly enjoying the drama. “Jesus Christ.”
Knox rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. “That girl has a death wish.”
Ghost tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Or she knows exactly what she’s doing.”
I picked the phone back up, my mind racing. I dialed her number, feeling a mix of irritation and anticipation. Across the table, Diesel leaned back in his chair, already entertained. “This is gonna end badly.”
The phone rang once. Twice. Then she answered.
“Hello?”
Just hearing her voice lit a fuse in my chest—sweet, soft, mouthy as hell.
“Emma.”
Across the table, Knox slowly leaned back, a knowing look on his face. Diesel grinned like he’d just bought front-row tickets to a fight. “You flirting with my men now?”
A pause lingered before her voice returned, light and teasing. “Maybe.”
My jaw clenched, the heat of possessiveness flooding my veins. “Stop.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not a reason.”
Diesel mouthed oh boy across the table, Ghost stopped typing, and Knox crossed his arms. Everyone in the damn room was listening now, the tension palpable.
“You leaning on their bikes too?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.
“Maybe.”
“You testing me on purpose?”
“Maybe.”
Christ. I closed my eyes for a second, dragging a slow breath through my lungs, trying to rein in the fire she ignited within me.
“Emma.”
“Yes, Hawk?”
The way she said my name didn’t help; it only fanned the flames.
“You keep pushing me like this…” I lowered my voice, making it more of a warning, “You’re not gonna like what happens when I get back.”
The silence that followed stretched across the room, thick and heavy. Knox stopped moving, Diesel leaned forward, and Ghost slowly lifted his eyes from the laptop.
Then she said it. “You jealous?”
Something dark shifted in my chest—territorial, dangerous, the kind of instinct that doesn’t ask for permission. I answered before I could stop myself. “You’re mine.”
A breath caught on the other end of the phone, and for a brief second, I thought I’d broken through to her.
Then she laughed—soft, cocky. “In your dreams.”
Click.
The line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone in my hand, my heart racing. Across the table, Diesel lost it. “Oh man.”
Knox rubbed his face again, disbelief etched across his features. “She hung up on you.”
Ghost blinked slowly, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did she just hang up on the president of the club?”
I leaned back in my chair, a mix of irritation and disbelief coursing through me. “Yes.”
Diesel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes sparkling with mischief. “What’d she say before she did it?”
I stared at the ceiling for a second, searching for the right words. “‘In your dreams.’”
Diesel started laughing again, slapping his knee. “Holy hell.”
Knox shook his head slowly. “You’ve got a problem.”
Ghost closed his laptop halfway, his brow furrowing. “She’s baiting you.”
“I know.”
Diesel leaned forward on the table, elbows resting on the wood, his expression serious. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
I looked down at the phone again, the name flashing on the screen like a brand. Emma Blake. Leaning on my bikes, flirting with my men, hanging up on me. Something low and possessive twisted in my gut.
I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the concrete floor.
Knox closed his eyes, sensing the storm brewing. “…There it is.”
Diesel grinned, his voice dripping with anticipation. “You about to do something stupid.”
I grabbed my cut from the back of the chair and pulled it on, feeling the weight of it settle over my shoulders like a promise.
“I’ve got business elsewhere.”
Knox gestured toward the map, frustration creeping into his tone. “We’re not done.”
“You two can finish it.”
Diesel leaned back in his chair, a bemused smile on his face. “You going to her house?”
I paused in the doorway, looking back at them, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth. “Yes.”
Ghost shook his head slowly, a warning in his eyes. “This is going to end violently.”
Knox groaned. “Jesus Christ.”
Diesel laughed, clearly reveling in the chaos. “Man’s about to start a war over cinnamon rolls.”
I pushed the door open and stepped outside, the cold night air hitting my face like a slap. My bike waited in the gravel lot, black and heavy, a beast ready to be unleashed.
I swung a leg over the seat and started the engine, the roar filling the quiet night, drowning out everything but the thought running through my head: Emma Blake. Leaning on my bikes, flirting with my men, hanging up on me.
A slow, dangerous smile spread across my face as I pulled onto the road. She wanted to push me? Fine. Let’s see how much she liked it when I pushed back.