Chapter 10
GAGE
I pull up behind Bishop’s SUV at the curb, tug off my helmet, and stare up at one of the most beautiful houses I’ve ever seen.
Actually, house isn’t even the right word for it.
Nestled in the heart of the Garden District, surrounded by the wealthiest homes in the entire city, the massive Italianate mansion could grace the covers of an architectural magazine.
With a waist-high iron fence circling the property, the imposing white house towers above us, a stunning and intimidating monument to taste… and money.
Lots of it.
These people have the kind of money most can’t even fathom.
Dad used to call it “fuck you money” when I was growing up, and his voice always held a hint if disdain for those who possessed it. Not because he was jealous. More due to the fact that he firmly believed money was the root of all evil in this world.
Though, I haven’t seen that with the Hawkes, from what little interaction I’ve had with them. If anything, they seem down to earth despite their wealth, and are even known for giving millions to charity through the Hawke Foundation annually.
If he had met them, I wonder if he would have held those views.
Bishop steps from her SUV out onto the road, and I climb off my bike and approach her, still staring up at the house.
“Whose place is this?”
She doesn’t even look at me when she answers, just slams her door and presses the button on her fob to lock it. “Cass and Kennedy and their daughter Charlotte.”
The tension radiating off her only increases as she stalks through the iron gate, up the stone walkway, and toward the massive front door without glancing back a single time to see if I’m following her.
As far as she’s concerned, I could have gotten lost on the drive over from The Grind, and she would have been happy about it. Her concession made because of Astrid’s suggestion doesn’t mean she’s fully on board with having me here.
She doesn’t like the idea of me helping with whatever’s going on with the Hawkes, but I can’t just stand by and pretend none of this bothers me.
Seeing how upset she is.
Witnessing how hard she’s working.
Knowing that she’s going to burn herself out if something doesn’t change.
It all drives me forward, even if her entire body language is telling me to get lost. Before she reaches the door, I grab her arm, halting her progress.
I haul her back against me and lower my lips to the shell of her ear, holding her tightly. “Please don’t waste your energy fighting me when you clearly have a bigger adversary to focus all this animosity on.”
She doesn’t really hate me.
We both know that.
The icy front she’s blasting me with is just another defense mechanism she’s using to keep me at arm’s length. To prevent me from getting close.
But it isn’t going to work.
Eventually, she’ll stop trying, but until that moment comes, all I can do is keep reminding her that I am not the enemy.
Her body relaxes slightly in my hold, but it’s the only hint I receive that suggests I may have gotten through to her.
Because in the next moment, she’s wrenching herself free and opening the door.
She steps inside without any announcement of our presence or invitation to me, but I follow anyway, nudging the door closed behind me.
The grand foyer of the mansion is exactly how I imagined it would look. Glistening marble, filigree wallpaper, fresh flowers on a small table, and my eyes immediately cast upward toward the chandelier that hangs in the center of two spiral staircases that lead to the second floor.
Given the excited menagerie of voices coming from our left, the rest of the Hawkes must already be here.
The girls all left The Grind well before us, with Bishop taking great care to ensure their security teams had them protected for the change of venue before she was willing to leave with me.
Now those men patrol the outside of the house, offering at least a modicum of comfort that we’ll all be guarded while this meeting takes place.
That doesn’t seem to help Bishop relax at all though. She steps into a large living room filled with so many people I can’t even take them all in.
All the conversations slowly taper off as the Hawkes turn to face her.
And me.
Dozens of sets of eyes roam over me, taking me in and sizing me up the same way Bishop did the first time she saw me.
The women all appear surprised and interested, giving me at least somewhat friendly smiles, but the men just seem utterly pissed that Bishop has brought an outsider to a Hawke Family meeting that was clearly meant to be private.
I’ve been in some very uncomfortable places before, but this feels different. Somehow more dangerous, even though there isn’t a single gun pointed at me.
At least, not one I can see.
Bishop glances at me before facing all of them. “This is Gage Newhart. He stepped in to help one of the girls at the club recently.”
Some of the tension in the room evaporates, but it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface. They’ve all no doubt heard about what went down that night, which at least gives some explanation for my presence.
“Astrid thought he might be able to help with security, given what just went down today.”
The man seated in a plush leather chair in front of the fireplace with jet-black hair graying around his temples who I instantly recognize as Savage Hawke inclines his head toward me. “I hear you met Satriano.”
I rub my hand against the back of my neck and nod. “If that was the guy at The Grind today, then yeah.”
“Well”—he locks his icy blue gaze on me—“he isn’t exactly our favorite person.”
A sardonic biting laugh comes from Gabe Anderson—Savage’s business partner and best friend, and Atlas and Astrid’s father.
Though I’ve seen him at the club more than once, I’ve never actually spoken to him.
“That’s a fucking understatement. The man is a menace, one who continues to cut at us like a thorn in our side. ”
Bishop’s shoulders tense, as if she’s preparing herself for another showdown with him even though it’s been an hour since he walked away from The Grind. “And now he’s back in town.”
Gabe nods, rubbing a hand across his stubbled jaw. “Which means things are about to get very interesting, and not in a good way.”
The man I instantly recognize as Bishop’s father approaches and holds out his hand that’s goddamn near twice the size of mine. “Saint Clarke. It’s nice to meet you.”
His harsh grip suggests that he’s making an unspoken statement that has nothing to do with the Satriano situation and everything to do with how near I’m standing to his daughter.
Shit.
I hadn’t mentally prepared for “meeting the parents” when I offered my assistance, but since her father runs all the security for Hawke Enterprises, it only makes sense that he would be here tonight, front and center of this family gathering.
“You too, sir.”
His brow furrows, eyes a shade darker than his daughter’s assessing me shrewdly. “What sort of experience do you have?”
I glance around the room and find Atlas, who is the only one of the Hawke men who offers me a genuine smile.
“Well, he can sure throw a fuckin’ right hook.” He chuckles and pushes to his feet from where he was seated on one of the couches to make his way over and shake my hand and slap me on the shoulder. “We sparred the other day. He fought WCAP.”
Saint’s eyes widen slightly. “Really?”
I nod, trying not to squirm under the scrutiny of every single person in the room who seems to be taking stock of me—a few who appear to find me wanting if their faces are telling me anything.
“If you were military, then you know how to handle a weapon.”
Bishop’s father is already mentally preparing my résumé, probably thinking about where they could use me in their security protocol, but saying I know how to handle a weapon is like saying Atlas knows how to throw a punch.
I clear my throat and glance away from Bishop. “I can do more than that…”
Everyone’s attention locks in on me even more, but one set of eyes in particular narrows with sharp awareness.
Gabe’s gaze sweeps over me again, from my hair down to my combat boots. “Where did you serve? What branch?”
Swallowing thickly, I brace myself for the blowback I’ll probably get from Bishop for not revealing this sooner. “I was a Ranger. 3rd battalion, then RSTB.”
All the air seems to get sucked from the room with my admission.
Gabe nods but doesn’t say anything else.
He was a bit of a legend in the 75th even decades after he retired. One of the best snipers to ever serve with them. And he knows that anyone who was part of the Regimental Special Troops Battalion is more than capable of handling anything that might come for the Hawkes.
Though, I’m not so sure I’m prepared to handle what Bishop will say or do when we’re alone again. The heat of her stare licks across my skin until I finally glance over at her.
Now that it’s all out there, she has to understand why I was so insistent on helping them, why it would be impossible for me to just stand by and do nothing. But the way she’s looking at me says that keeping my background from her was a huge mistake she will make me pay for later.
Her father assesses me for another second, his gaze drifting over to the way his daughter looks at me, then he retreats to his original spot near a small brunette woman who must be Bishop’s mother.
She offers me a tight smile but doesn’t say anything, instead taking her husband’s hand in her much smaller one.
Atlas clears his throat loudly in the now awkwardly silent room.
“Well, now that’s settled…let me give you the quick introductions.
The one in the chair is Savage, and the tall blond standing next to him is his wife, Danika.
They’re Kennedy’s parents. You now know my dad, Gabe, and the woman beside him is my mother, Skye. ”
She gives me a kind smile and a small wave while Gabe continues to watch me with the same calculation I would expect any former-Ranger to.