Chapter 6
HAWK
SEVEN YEARS AGO…
Two days after my night with Callie. Our. Our night with Callie.
That was the only way I knew to mark time. Before something or after something.
Callie being an after put a foul taste in my mouth and sent me on rides long enough to melt my ass into the leather seat. It didn’t help.
Neither did noticing her in the bay every morning before daylight. She worked with a kind of intensity I admired, but one that I knew from experience might cause her to burn out.
Not on the work.
She’d never tire of the work, but her mind and body would crash and burn at some point.
And the bylaws prohibiting me from taking her and claiming her publicly as ours meant I couldn’t be there to pick up the pieces.
Better all around if I mitigated the damage in the first place.
Grimacing at the tightness in my neck from another sleepless night, I poured two cups of coffee from the pot in the main room and carried them across the lot.
She heard me before I made it halfway between the house and the bay door.
Her head snapped up, shoulders squaring even before she turned.
The swivel of her head brought her chin to her shoulder, and it ripped me into a memory of our night together.
Except then her eyes had been full of passion and heat.
Today, they remained dead, the flat expression of someone going through the motions.
Like Colt. Damn him for taking off again and leaving me with the recovery. Again.
I set one cup of coffee on the workbench beside her and wrapped both hands around mine.
She looked at it, then at me, her lips pulling to one side. “Thanks.”
Oil coated her palms and the crevices of her nails, but she barely wiped them on an old shop towel before she picked up the cup and took a sip.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and the barely there sigh told me a hell of a lot about her.
She could have gone into the house at any time and made herself a cup, but she’d been avoiding it, choosing to spend almost twenty hours a day in the shop.
Shadows ringed her eyes, confirming my fear that she wasn’t sleeping well.
“I have a job for you.” I pulled a folded paper from my back pocket and set it on the bench, tapping it with my index finger.
“Parts run two counties over. Our regular guy is laid up.” Running the club with order to maintain our reputation kept me from pushing her against the wall and demanding she tell me why she couldn’t sleep at night.
That and the fact I had a hell of a lot of respect for her and even though I knew she wouldn’t tell me no, I refused to put her in that position.
But damn it all if I hadn’t sat up last night trying to figure out a way to create a new rule to override the Old Lady status previously set in the charter.
Our reputation as a ‘by the book’ club meant I couldn’t just make shit up for my benefit.
With the pressure closing in from the Hellhounds, I resisted the pull between me and Callie and concentrated on keeping her safe and healthy.
It was the best I could offer.
I tapped the paper again. “Jarrad’s going with you.”
Her lip curled. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Good, because Jarrad would rather wipe his ass with poison ivy than babysit anyone.” I’d chosen him because he stayed calm in a crisis, he knew the roads, and he’d keep his hands off Callie. I trusted most of my guys, and I’d seen Callie take care of herself more than once.
That didn’t mean I’d put her in a truck with Ricky or the prospect whose bike she’d fixed a few days ago. The conversation alone would make any of us want to throw ourselves out a window.
Nose still scrunched, Callie took the paper and shoved it into her pocket. “When?”
“Half an hour.”
“What the fuck is taking so long?” Ricky stormed across the yard.
Callie flinched and looked away, her hands curling at her sides.
Damn it.
My heart did a funky little tap dance, and I hooked my thumbs in my pockets to keep from rubbing my chest.
I’d thought I saw her flinch before but it had been so quick I hoped I’d misread the situation.
“Go get lunch before you head out.” I slid into the space between her and Ricky, cutting him off and giving her a directive that kept her away from him and somewhere comfortable.
“Not hungry.” She shook her head, her chin jutting out in a mulish expression.
I met her gaze with a steady look. “It wasn’t a question. Jarrad doesn’t like to stop on the road, so you need to fuel up.”
“What if I need to take a piss?” She said it the same way Colt would, with a challenge in her eyes and a hint of daring begging me to argue with her.
“I’ll let him know he needs to take your femininity into consideration.” I motioned at the house.
She paused just long enough to peek over my shoulder at where Ricky argued with Dylan about the latest batch of beer.
Her lips puckered in a grimace full of disdain before she brought it under control and headed toward the house with long, easy strides.
Her braid swayed side to side, and my palm itched to hold it, to wrap it around my fist and pound into her until we both came.
Not happening, but I sure as hell could imagine it well enough.
“Ricky.” I set my hands on my hips and faced him and Dylan.
Dylan ducked his head and found somewhere else to be so fast he nearly left skid marks behind.
Ricky sauntered over, his black jacket snug over his chest and a wide smile showing his canines. “Yeah, boss?”
“You having fun shouting in my yard?” I stared him down, waiting for it to dawn on him that getting my attention wasn’t the boon he thought.
He shrugged and laughed. “Had to do something. Did you taste that swill? I could piss in a bottle and it would be better than that.”
“If you have a problem with a supply, you bring it to me. What did you expect Dylan to do about it?”
His lips flapped with a splutter. “Nothing. I mean…” He ran a hand across the back of his neck, then pulled on his earlobe. Nervous stress sweat gathered under his arms. “Shit, man. I didn’t mean nothing by it. Just wanted to shoot the shit, you know?”
“So you decided to complain.” I kept my voice low and even, forcing him to pay attention.
He nodded, paled when he realized what he’d been doing, and stopped with a jerk. “Sorry. I’ll remember to come to you next time if I have a problem.”
I nodded once, dismissing him with the twitch of my head. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to stop him from frightening Callie every time he spoke.
Callie walked out of the house holding a sandwich, a bag of chips, and a drink.
She waved them at me and dropped onto the wooden bench beneath an old oak with sprawling branches.
Diesel had built the bench a few years ago. Few people besides him used it, but I’d noticed Callie often sat there with her eyes on the road.
An engine growled in the distance, and her head swiveled toward the sound.
The Harley topped the hill and rolled into view, and Callie’s shoulders dropped, her entire body sliding into a slouch. She shook her head and tore a bite off the sandwich with an angry twist.
What was that all about?
Sam rode the Harley to a stop near the front of the house and dismounted. He joined Dylan and a few others on the porch, the whole group laughing and slapping each other on the back.
“She thought it was Colt.” Diesel spoke from behind me. “I heard her muttering to herself when the engine revved. Kind of sounds like his bike.”
She already knew the sound of Colt’s ride?
Jarrad pulled the truck and trailer around from behind the shop and hopped out.
Callie tossed her trash and rushed over, climbing in the passenger seat faster than I thought possible.
Jarrad glanced from her to me and back, shrugged, and hopped behind the wheel.
“Colt would bet she’d be driving the truck by the first pitstop.” Diesel almost grinned, but the tightness around his mouth prevented it. He crossed his arms and waited beside me. “Come up with an answer yet?”
“No.” I left it at that and forced my feet to move. I didn’t dare stand around watching the truck leave, but I kept an eye on it as I walked into the house and across to my office.
I had work to do, and that included trying to figure out a way to protect Callie. She wouldn’t ask for it, and she’d deny it if I asked.
Good thing I didn’t feel obligated to ask. I’d seen the look in her eyes in men who grew up in war zones and in kids who were taught to never cry.
It hollowed them from the inside out, creating shells of emotionless bodies that had no idea how to be human.
I could help her before it came to that.
Getting her out on the road, with a real job to do, meant she had structure, purpose, and someone by her side I trusted because the whole club would go batshit if Diesel or I lowered ourselves to doing a supply run.
Five hours later, the bark of tires on gravel and the flash of headlights sent me back to the garage to meet Callie and Jarrad.
She slid from the driver’s seat with a grin and laughed at something Jarrad said. “Don’t give me that. I told you exactly what I was going to do.”
Jarrad grumbled, but his smile kept my pulse firmly locked. He swung around to face me. “Tell her, Hawk.”
“What?” I resisted the grin as the two of them bantered.
This was what I’d wanted.
She needed a friend, someone who would never in a million years even consider trying to get into her panties and could put up with her snark.
Jarrad rolled his eyes and fluttered a hand toward Callie. “Tell her that stopping to let a deer cross the road is more dangerous than hoping it gets out of the way.”
“Depends on the situation,” Callie and I answered at the same time.
“Ha.” She pointed at Jarrad. “See. I’m right.”
“Yeah, I’ll remember that the next time we get rear ended because you decided to stop for bambi.” He snorted but kept smiling. “You got the receipt?”
Callie dug into her back pocket and pulled out a paper. “Right here.” She held it out to me, letting go the instant my fingers touched the edge. “He tossed in a couple extra parts. Jarrad said you’d be okay with that.”
I scanned the receipt, signed it, and put it in my pocket. “Good run?”
“Yeah. Nice and clean.” Jarrad tipped his head toward Callie. “That means we didn’t run into any rivals or have any trouble.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Callie huffed a dry laugh and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to grab a smoke.”
I took my time chatting with Jarrad. “No sign of the Hellhounds?”
“Not a one.” Jarrad took a step closer and dropped his voice. “She’s wound tight, man. Barely spoke at all the first hour. Loosened up a bit once I mentioned my boyfriend, but she kept looking at me like I’d try to jump her.”
Fuck. I slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“She’s something else, Hawk. Keep her around, yeah?”
I nodded. “I’d love to.” But it wasn’t entirely up to me.
Diesel made his way around the back perimeter, doing his nightly walk. He tipped his head in the direction Callie had gone, a clear warning in his face.
“Put those up for me?” I motioned at the supplies on the flatbed trailer and set off after Callie.
Her head snapped around when I rounded the corner. A cigarette dangled from her fingertips, the end unlit. She held a lighter in the other hand, her fingers trembling when she tried to hit the striker.
“Need a hand?”
“Not from you.” She stuck the cigarette between her lips, cupped her hand around the end, and drove her thumb down the striker. A flame billowed, accentuating the deep hollows of her eyes and the panic that flared with every breath.
Keys jingled in her pocket when she propped her booted foot on the wall behind her and took a long drag.
Her gaze darted left, toward her bike parked next to the bay doors.
She took another drag and pinched her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. “I appreciate everything you’ve done by letting me in the club.”
I’d heard that exact line once before in my life, and it was before Colt bolted for the first time. “We need someone like you around.”
She snorted and rested her head against the wall.
I took it as a win that she closed her eyes when I stood so close.
It wasn’t quite trust, but for those few seconds, it felt damn good to know she had enough faith in me that I didn’t require constant surveillance.
“You have a room in the house if you want it.” I dug into my pocket and produced a key.
“Meant to give you this yesterday. It’s the only copy, so don’t lose it. ”
Her eyes flew wide open. It would require even more trust to believe me that no one had a copy of the key.
She’d either take me at my word, or she wouldn’t.