Chapter Eight Chloe
I touch my lips as Spock turns away. He mounts his bike and sends me a cheeky grin before he and Rush pull away. I don’t move until the sound of their motorcycles fades into the desert air. I realize I’m grinning like a fool when I see the smirk on Hawk’s face.
Hawk swings his long leg over his motorcycle. After removing his helmet, he hooks it over the handlebars before stalking towards me with the same calm confidence every Demon Dawg seems to possess.
"If you need anything, I'm here," he says. "I'll be patrolling the site all day."
I nod. "Thank you."
He glances toward the building. "Spock meant what he said. The club's providing security until you finish the project. Nobody's getting to you without going through us."
The certainty in his voice chips away at the knot that's been living in my stomach since Dad was attacked.
"I appreciate that."
A faint smile touches his face.
"There's something else you should know." He folds his arms across his chest. "The club likes having you working on Inferno Ridge."
I blink, surprised.
"Really?"
"Yeah. You understand what we’re trying to accomplish. And Puma?" Hawk continues. "He's impressed with you."
That catches me completely off guard.
"He is?"
"He doesn't hand out compliments often. When he respects someone, they're one of his people.
" Hawk's expression hardens slightly. "And Puma's fiercely loyal to his people. Spock is the same way. Spock cares about you, so even if you weren’t working on Inferno Ridge, Puma would make sure you were protected.”
Something inside me quivers. It’s one thing to know Spock is on my side, but I have a feeling that his interest isn’t limited to my work on Inferno Ridge. Not if that kiss has any meaning. Hearing Hawk’s words makes me realize that I’m not alone.
Hawk grabs a hard hat before disappearing inside.
After one last look around the site, I square my shoulders and follow him in, feeling far steadier than I did just minutes ago.
The rhythmic thud of hammers and the whine of power saws fill the morning air as I make my way through the building.
Hawk stays somewhere nearby. I don't always see him, but now and then I catch a glimpse of his leather kutte disappearing around a corner or hear one of my men call out to him.
Somehow, knowing he's there makes the entire site feel safer.
The sound of tires rolling over loose gravel pulls my attention toward the entrance.
A black luxury SUV that I recognize slows to a stop near the temporary office. My heart drops, but I plaster on a smile and go out to meet the man financing this project. Paul Scaro.
Paul climbs out, dressed in pressed slacks and a crisp button-down shirt that somehow stays wrinkle-free despite the desert heat. As the developer behind Riversedge Apartments, he's visited the project regularly enough that we've developed a comfortable working relationship.
"Morning, Chloe."
"Good morning, Paul."
He glances around the bustling construction site. "Looks like you're making good progress."
"We are." I smile, genuinely proud. "Come on. I'll show you."
We spend the next twenty minutes walking through each floor.
The plumbing and electricity have been installed and passed inspection.
My crew has already started installing drywall.
He asks questions about schedules, materials, and inspections while jotting occasional notes into the leather portfolio he always carries.
"This is excellent," he says as we step onto what will eventually become the central courtyard. "You're actually a little ahead of where I expected."
"My team does good work," I agree.
His smile fades slightly.
"I heard about what happened to your father yesterday."
I stop walking. How could he have heard about the attack?
“How?”
"I'm sorry," he continues. "Someone mentioned that he was hurt. They said he was attacked."
"He'll be okay."
Paul studies me for a moment. "And the problems you've been having?"
I hesitate. He seems well-informed. A little too informed. I have to wonder if he has a spy on my team. If so, who?
"They appear to be directed at me personally," I admit. "It doesn’t appear to be related to this project."
His brow furrows.
"Should I be concerned?"
"No," I answer immediately. "Nothing that's happened has delayed construction, and I don't intend to let it. We’re increasing security."
He looks around the site again, his expression thoughtful.
"Is that why you have a member of the Demon Dawgs walking around?"
Despite everything, I can't help smiling.
"They're providing additional security."
“Interesting choice.”
"I'm taking extra precautions to make sure the project continues without interruption." I meet his eyes. "Your schedule isn't changing."
He nods slowly, though concern still lingers on his face.
"I imagine their protection doesn’t come cheap."
"Don’t worry, I’m covering. The security isn’t your responsibility. It’s mine. The Demon Dawgs have offered to provide security because my other team is working on a project for them.”
He studies me for another long moment before giving a slow nod.
"I forgot you were working for them, too."
"I gave you my word this project would be completed on time and on budget." I extend my hand. "That hasn't changed."
He shakes it firmly.
"I believe you."
Relief settles over me as we walk back toward his SUV.
"Take care of yourself, Chloe."
"I intend to."
He climbs into his vehicle and drives away, leaving another trail of dust across the gravel.
I watch until the SUV disappears, then turn back toward the construction site. We’re making solid progress on the site. We should be able to complete the internal work in a few weeks, and the external projects will take about that long. Six to eight weeks, and we should be done.
"That looked important."
The familiar voice immediately puts me on edge.
I turn to find Blackwood striding toward me with his hard hat tucked beneath one arm. His expression is carefully neutral, but I've worked with him long enough to recognize the irritation simmering beneath the surface.
“Was that Scaro?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, he wanted a tour of the site and an update on our progress. He seems pretty happy.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t he be?” I ask.
“He wasn’t upset about the problems that we’ve been having and the potential delays?”
“We haven’t had any delays,” I remind him. “We’re still on schedule. Although I was surprised that he knew about the attack on my father.”
“Don’t you think he had a right to know?”
“Are you the one who told him?”
A flash of guilt crosses over Blackwood’s face before he hides it. “He’s the client. He has a right to know that we’re running into problems. It would look bad on you if he found out some other way. I was only protecting you.”
“You think you’re protecting me by sharing my business with a client? That’s ridiculous. You work for me. Try to remember that, unless you want to stop working for me.”
Blackwood throws his free hand into the air.
“I was only looking out for the reputation of this company. How do you think Scaro would have reacted if he heard about the attack from someone else? He’d think you were hiding something.”
“I’m not arguing with you. Don’t share my business.”
“Fine. I won’t. What did he say? Is he concerned?”
“He was concerned about my dad, yes. He wasn’t concerned about the project. I told him that we were getting additional security. He seemed fine with it, especially since it won’t cost him anything.”
"The Demon Dawgs," he sneers.
"Yes."
“I can’t believe you’re trusting a bunch of bikers. That’s stupid. How do you know that they aren’t the ones causing problems?”
“Why would they? They hired us. They want us to finish this project so we can focus on Inferno Ridge.”
“You expect me to believe that’s all they want?”
I stare at him in confusion. “What else would they want?”
“You.”
“Me?” I laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t,” Blackwood snarls, sticking his finger in my face. “Don’t play me for a fool. I can see what’s happening. I see the way he looks at you.”
I glare at him as I put distance between us by crossing my arms. “You’re out of line. Nothing is going on between Spock and me. More importantly, it’s none of your business.”
“The fuck it isn’t,” Blackwood practically bellows. “I asked you out, and you said no. You said you couldn’t date an employee because it was unprofessional. Well, what does it say about you if you date a client? That’s pretty hypocritical of you, isn’t it?”
"My personal life is none of your business."
"It became my business when—"
"No." I cut him off sharply. "It didn't."
He snaps his mouth closed as he glares at me.
"I don't owe you an explanation for who I spend time with. I don't owe you a date because you asked for one. And I certainly don't owe you an apology for saying no."
For the first time, he looks genuinely taken aback.
I take a calming breath and glance away from him.
That's when I see Hawk watching us. He's standing about thirty yards away near a stack of drywall. His expression is unreadable, but there's no mistaking that he's been paying attention.
Mortification crashes over me. Now one of the Demon Dawgs has witnessed my entire humiliating argument. Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk briskly toward my truck.
"Chloe!"
I ignore Blackwood as I climb into the driver's seat, slam the door, and start the engine. As I pull away, I catch one last glimpse of Hawk in the side mirror. He hasn't moved, but neither has Blackwood.
I leave them both behind, grateful for the privacy of my truck and desperate for a few minutes to clear my head before facing anyone else.