Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Hawk
What the hell just happened?
My cheek still stings where Emma’s palm struck me, the sharp slap echoing in my mind like a gunshot—loud, jarring, final.
I can still hear her voice, clear and cutting: Go fuck yourself.
The words replay in a relentless loop as I push through the throng of bodies in the bar, the heavy bass of the music thumping through the floorboards beneath my boots.
My jaw tightens with each step. Just ten minutes ago, Emma had been smiling, laughing, and leaning against my arm as if she belonged there.
I could feel her warmth radiating through the fabric of my shirt, her laughter blending seamlessly with the sounds of the party, creating a backdrop of joy.
But in an instant, everything changed. Suddenly, she was standing in the hallway outside my office, her eyes glassy and her chest rising and falling as if she’d just sprinted a mile. And before I could utter a single word—
Crack
The slap. Then came the accusations, sharp and painful. “You think I’m fucking stupid, Hawk?”
Before I could even process her words, she had stormed out, leaving me feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the planet. My fists ball up as I shove through another group of revelers, their laughter and chatter fading into the background.
What the hell did she see? Nothing adds up. I was gone for maybe five minutes—ten at most. Just long enough to grab her a damn sweatshirt because she had mentioned feeling cold sitting at the bar. Yet somehow, I come back to find her staring at me like I just committed the worst betrayal.
Just as I’m lost in my spiraling thoughts, a hand suddenly grabs my belt and slides toward my crotch. I stop dead in my tracks, my heart racing.
I look down to find Ginger, her fake red hair falling over one eye as she smirks up at me, fingers still trying to curl around the front of my jeans. “Hey, Hawk,” she purrs, the sultriness in her voice making my skin crawl. “Been looking for you all night.”
Rage ignites instantly. I grab her wrist and rip it away from me, my voice low and dangerous. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
For a split second, her smile falters, but then she leans in closer, pressing her chest toward me in a desperate attempt to regain my attention. “Oh come on,” she says, her tone dripping with feigned sweetness. “You weren’t complaining last time—”
I step forward, towering over her, my anger palpable. “Listen real fucking carefully,” I growl.
Her smile dies completely, fear taking its place. “If you ever grab my dick again, I’ll have you banned from this club for life.”
Her eyes widen in shock, and she stammers, “You don’t mean—”
“I mean exactly what I said.” My voice drops lower, more menacing. “You touch me again, and you’ll never step foot on this property again.”
For a moment, she just stares, processing my words, then scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder defiantly. “Whatever,” she mutters before disappearing back into the crowd.
I don’t even watch her go. My focus is elsewhere, and I’m pushing for the exit, the cold night air hitting me like a slap in the face. But it does nothing to douse the fire boiling under my skin. Something is wrong.
Emma doesn’t just lose her shit like that for no reason. Which means something must have happened in that hallway, and there’s only one way to uncover the truth.
As I approach the fire pit, the guys look up, their expressions shifting from casual to concerned. Riot leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Hawk looks like he’s about to kill someone.”
Diesel snorts, clearly amused. “Club girl finally piss you off?”
I ignore their banter, pacing near the railing as I try to gather my thoughts. Ghost appears a moment later, cigarette already dangling from his lips. “Alright,” he says, his tone serious. “What’s up?”
“Office,” I reply tersely.
He doesn’t ask questions; he just follows me inside. The noise of the bar fades as we move through the hallway toward the back office. The moment the door shuts behind us, I run a hand through my hair, frustration boiling over.
“Emma just slapped the shit out of me,” I say, my voice low but heavy with emotion.
Ghost’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “She what?”
“Accused me of fucking someone in here.”
Ghost blinks, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. “Did you?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, no,” I snap, my anger flaring again.
He shrugs slightly, trying to keep things light. “Just checking.”
I glare at him, the tension in the room thickening. “I came in here to grab her a sweatshirt. I was in the bathroom closet.”
Ghost is already at the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Alright, let’s see what happened.”
The security system hums to life as he pulls up the hallway cameras, and footage begins to roll back. We watch in silence, the hallway outside my office appearing on the screen.
The door opens.
Ginger walks out, her hair messy and shirt crooked, stretching like she just finished a workout. Ghost slowly turns to me, his expression shifting from curiosity to understanding.
“…Well.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, my blood boiling as I watch the screen.
Emma appears in the hallway seconds later. She stops dead upon seeing Ginger, and even without sound, I can see the change in her posture—shoulders stiffening, hands clenching into fists.
Ghost zooms in slightly, capturing the tension. Ginger leans closer to Emma, saying something that makes Emma’s face crumple in disbelief. My chest tightens in response.
Then Ginger walks away, and moments later, I step out of my office.
Ghost leans back in his chair, processing the footage. “Okay,” he says slowly. “That… explains a lot.”
My jaw grinds together, the muscles tensing painfully. “That fucking bitch.”
I slam my palm against the desk, frustration pouring out of me. “She told Emma we fucked.”
Ghost nods, his expression serious. “Looks like it.”
My anger flares again—at Ginger, at Emma, at the whole damn situation. “She didn’t even let me explain,” I snap.
Ghost shrugs slightly, his tone pragmatic. “From her perspective…” He gestures to the screen. “…it looked pretty convincing.”
I drag a hand down my face in exasperation. “Where the hell did Ginger even come from? I was in the bathroom.”
Ghost rewinds the footage slightly, revealing Ginger slipping into my office. Two minutes later, she walks out. He whistles softly. “Bold move.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, my eyes narrowing. “Too bold.”
Ghost studies the footage again, his brow furrowing. “You gonna deal with her?”
“Oh, I’m dealing with her.” I push off the desk, determination propelling me forward. “Come on.”
We leave the office, moving back through the bar. I scan every corner, every booth, and every dance floor, but there’s no sign of her.
“Where the hell did she go?” Riot asks when we reach the bar area, concern creeping into his voice.
“No idea,” Ghost mutters, frustration evident.
Diesel steps over, his expression serious. “What’s going on?”
“Ginger told Emma we fucked,” I say flatly, the weight of the situation heavy on my chest.
Diesel’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “Jesus.”
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance at the screen to find Emma’s name flashing. I freeze.
Decline.
It rings again.
Decline.
A third time.
Decline.
Ghost glances at me, concern etched on his face. “You gonna answer her?”
“Not right now,” I reply, my patience fraying.
Ginger is nowhere in the building, which makes zero sense. I barely interact with her; why the hell would she pull something like that?
“I barely fucking know her. Why would she pretend we fucked?” I say aloud, frustration spilling over.
Riot shrugs, trying to lighten the mood. “Club girls do dumb shit.”
But Diesel goes still, his expression shifting to something more serious. He slowly looks up, a realization dawning. “What if…” he begins, and all of us turn toward him, curiosity piqued.
“What if she did it to get Emma out of the house?”
Everything inside me freezes. Diesel continues slowly, “All the guys are here tonight.”
Riot’s face tightens, and Ghost glances toward the door. “No one’s watching Emma’s place.”
My stomach drops like a stone. My phone suddenly feels like it weighs a hundred pounds in my hand. Three missed calls from Emma. And I just ignored every single one.
“Fuck.”