I glanced over my shoulder. “Is someone following us?”
My body hit the door when he made a sharp left turn.
“Hawk, slow down! I need to go back and get my car.”
“Your car will stay right where it is.”
“How do you expect me to go back to work?”
He reached in the glove compartment and flipped it open. A few maps fell out, and he tossed a package of napkins on my lap. “You’re not going back to work. I don’t like the idea of my woman slinging beer and onion rings all night to a bunch of horny men. Is that what you want to be for the rest of your life, Izzy? Some bar slut?”
“Well done. You’ve managed to belittle my worth in a matter of a few sentences. Pull the car over; this was a mistake.”
Hawk ignored my complaints and made a hard right turn. His erratic behavior began to rattle me.
“Pull the car over! What’s gotten into you lately? I’m not up for this kind of craziness!”
“Crazy? Just how high do you think your expectations deserve to go?” he asked in a cool voice. “Izzy, Izzy. No man seems to be worthy of you.”
“What are you talking about? If you had just paid this guy his money, we wouldn’t be driving around the city like Bonnie and Clyde. You’re acting like a maniac!”
“And you’re acting like a ball-sucking whore. Do you know what I risked to drive all the way out here and pick you up, knowing Delgado could have one of his men casing the bar? I walk in and you have your face cozied up in another man’s crotch. Classy, Iz. Real classy.”
My head felt ready to explode. I didn’t even want to argue with him. He should have trusted me, and while I knew it wasn’t an ideal situation to walk in on, the fact he was berating me began to rile me up. It made my wolf want to bite him in the ass.
“Stop the car and drop me off. I made a mistake. Izzy Monroe made a big, fat, whopping mistake. There. I said it. I’m not saying you’re evil and I’m good and that’s what this is all about. We’re just not compatible. We’re not even combustible in the sack together. I’m not even sure why you’re hanging on to a girl like me if you clearly don’t respect what I do for a living. And by the way, I love my job. Maybe I have to deal with a few jerks, but that goes with the territory, and I don’t think any job is jerk-free. I serve. Why do you have such a problem with the fact I serve others? Maybe if you tried it once in your life, you’d have a little humility. Not everyone is meant to be a doctor or banker. And who are you to talk, Mr. Drug Pusher?”
Oh hell’s bells. Evil Izzy just walked in the door, put her boots on the table, and ordered a drink of devil’s tongue.
“I own a house and pay for your fucking clothes. That’s who I am to talk.”
Did he just say that to me?
I turned to my left and wagged my finger at him. “First of all, the money you used to purchase that house came from drug addicts. Men and women who have an addiction and need help. All you do is feed them pain and misery and take away their hope. You don’t seem to care that you might have been responsible for some of them overdosing or committing crimes!”
“Like you’re Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”
“Yes, I smoked a little grass when I was young, but I’ve left my wild ways behind. At some point, you have to grow up and do the right thing. You’re not doing drugs, Hawk, you’re distributing them. And on top of all that, you’re stealing. Not stealing from a collection plate in church. Nooo. You’re stealing from a drug lord.”
“Delgado is not a drug lord. He’s a businessman who owns a few strip joints in the area. He’s also a human who doesn’t have a clue of the street value of his drugs and what people will pay for them. His stupidity is my gain.”
“Let me out.”
Fear swam through me with every sharp turn and throttle of the engine. I’d been trying to change my ways about giving people second chances because I wanted to believe others would do the same for me. But his aggressive and unpredictable behavior put a knot in my stomach, and I didn’t have a family or pack to protect me.
I slowly wrapped my fingers around the door handle, my heart racing. When he stopped at a light, I opened the door and leaned to get out. Hawk seized my left arm.
Pulling it free was as impossible as his grip, and when I turned to fight him off, he punched me hard in the face.
“Lights out, Izzy.”
Chapter 9
A ringing sound drew me out of a torturous slumber. I moaned, struggling to open my eyes. I began to feel pain in various places, from the throb in my head to a dull ache on my cheek. I’d never had anyone punch me in the face before. Ever. Not even in the house I grew up in. My conniving siblings had devised subtle methods of abuse, but they’d never struck a blow with a closed fist.