Hawk's Property(7)
* * *
Hawk stomped out of the building, nostrils flaring. He punched the brick façade and blood oozed from the broken skin. “Fuck!” he yelled. The pain from his bleeding knuckles eased his fury a bit. He’d had it with this goddamned, cock-teasing woman—he hated women like that. She was such a stuck-up tight ass and thought she was too fucking good for him. Well, she sure liked his tongue in her mouth and his fingers on her ass, when she’d squirmed and moaned like a slut. He ground his teeth. Fuck her!
Swinging his leg over his Harley 1250cc, Hawk revved the engine. The bike’s tires squealed as he shot out into the street. He needed to ride. Fast. That’s what he loved about riding—it was freeing; just him, his bike and the wind. When he rode, nothing mattered, and it was his moment of peace—his glimpse of spirituality. Wanting to rid his mind of Cara—beautiful, sexy, and aggravating—he rode fast and hard.
* * *
Outside of town, as the sun dipped in the west, the man heard the roar of the engine. Tension spilled from his lanky frame as he licked his chapped lips; he didn’t think the biker was going to show up. As the sound filled his brain, he breathed easier knowing he’d have his fix soon.
The gravel crunched under his feet as he went out to meet the biker.
“Why are you so late?” he demanded.
“I had bitch problems.”
“Did you bring the girl?” He hated sounding desperate, especially in front of a dirty biker.
“Nope, I have a bitch who’s giving me a run right now. I didn’t have time to round someone up for you. It’s too close, anyway. I mean to the last killing. You gotta ease up a bit.”
Panic gripped him. “You know what our agreement is.”
“Well, you’re fuckin’ sick. The agreement was sometimes, not all the time. We’re doing shit for you all the time, and you’re doing—”
“I’m risking everything!” he screamed.
“I’m here to tell you to fuckin’ lay low for a while. Go to another county. The attention is on, and we don’t want to be in the limelight. If you keep this shit up, you’re gonna end up like your playthings. You fuckin’ got that?” The gruff biker seized the lean killer by his shirt and shook him, then threw him on his ass. Spitting on the ground, the biker jumped back on his motorcycle.
Raising himself up, the trembling man wiped the dirt from his pressed pants. “When will you bring someone?” he whined.
“We’ll let you know. Stay smart—being stupid gives you a one-way ticket to a painful death.” Shaking his head, the leather-clad rider took off down the lone road.
The man listened to the sounds of nature, then heard a loud noise. Looking around, but seeing nothing except the woods, he gasped for air. The banging grew louder; it frayed his nerves. Bang. Thump. Bang. Sweat dripped from his hairline and he choked for breath. If only the noise would stop. Bending over at the waist, he clutched his chest and realized the noise was his pounding heart. He needed to satiate his hunger.
Gulping in deep breaths of air, he calmed his racing heart then walked to his car, turned on the engine, and drove in the direction of the neighboring town.
Chapter Four
Mesmerized by the smiling redhead’s picture on the front page of the Pinewood Springs Tribune, Cara read the caption—“Missing, 18 year-old Dana Squires.” The girl was from Silverton, a neighboring town. Cara wondered if the girl’s disappearance had any connection to the killings around Pinewood Springs. The girl in the picture wasn’t blonde or petite, but it did seem odd. A cold chill ran up her spine. What sick bastard would do this?
Asher popped his head into her office. “I have a very irate biker on the phone cussing up a storm about the police.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Something about a search. All I can really understand is the word fuck.” Asher rolled his eyes and shrugged.
“And that would be Hawk,” Cara said. “Transfer the call to me, please.” Nodding, Asher headed back to his desk.
A few seconds later, her phone rang. Grabbing the receiver, she cleared her throat then asked, “What’s up, Hawk?”
“How did you know it was me? I didn’t give your wimp-assed assistant my name.”
“Your vocabulary gave you away. Stop calling Asher names. What’s going on?”
“The fuckin’ badges have searched my goddamned house. Fuck that!”
“Really? Did they have a warrant?”
“No, they don’t need one. A term of my probation is a waiver of my Fourth.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a Fourth Amendment waiver when you were here last week? That’s something I needed to know.”
“I had other things on my mind, babe.”
Cara blushed at the memory of his lips on hers.
“So, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” he said.
“Were you at the house?”
“No, Kylie was. She called me right after the motherfuckers left.”
“Who’s Kylie?” Cara regretted asking right after the question slipped out of her mouth.
“Why? Does it matter?”
“It can… she can object to the cops going into areas that aren’t exclusively yours.”
“She doesn’t live with me.”
“Oh… then… why was she—I mean, what time did the cops come to your house?”
“About ten in the morning. I was at my shop.”
“Did they go there, too?”
“I don’t know. I took off when Kylie called and told me what happened.”
“Good move. Okay, come on over, and we can talk about what’s going on.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes. I’m just outside your building.”
Cara hung up the phone, reapplied her lipstick, and buzzed Asher. “Call the sheriff’s office and see if they found anything at Hawk’s house.”
Decked in his leather jacket and tight blue jeans, Hawk stood in the doorway to her office. Taking off his sunglasses, he revealed his electric blue eyes surrounded by long, black lashes. He was an imposing figure of muscle and sex, and she wondered if she’d ever stop catching her breath when she looked at him.
“Sit down.” She motioned to the brown, leather chair in front of her wood desk.
Taking the proffered seat, he stretched his powerful legs in front of him, licked his lips, and smirked. Her pulse raced. Too sexy. Oh, so rough.
“Hello, lawyer-lady.”
“Hello, badass biker in trouble.”
Hawk laughed. Spreading his fingers out, he leaned forward and said, “What can I do about these assholes who’re making my life a pain in the ass?”
“Why do you have a Fourth waiver as a term of your probation?”
“I don’t know. Les struck the plea. I always thought it was a shitty one.”
“Your record says you pled to an assault. You told me the altercation was a routine bar fight. A Fourth waiver is a big deal, and it isn’t ordered for just a few punches. You have agreed to let the cops search you and your property any time without a warrant. What the hell did you really do?”
“I never told you it was a few punches. I told you I beat the shit out of a guy who pissed me off.”
“Did the guy end up in the hospital?”
“Yeah, counselor, I believe he did. What the fuck difference does it make now?” A scowl formed on Hawk’s face and his eyes narrowed.
Damn, he’s an impossible man. Cara had no idea what was going on inside of him, but she had a hunch he had some softness barricaded in there somewhere. Having a macho attitude clashed with her position of power, and she’d seen it all before—guys like this couldn’t stand a woman calling the shots. Hawk was no different, and she suspected he hated to have her in control, but she was his attorney, after all. How silly men can be.
“Can you tell me why you beat the crap out of the guy?”
“He made advances toward Kylie.”
There was that name again. Cara’s stomach tightened.
“So, I told him to get the fuck away, he gave me shit, he took a swing at me, I sent him to the hospital for a rest, and I’m here explaining this shit to you.”
“I just need to know everything so I can best represent you.” Cara would rather give up her weekly manicures than ask him who Kylie was.
“You’re the boss,” Hawk said. “For now.”
Ignoring him, she continued, “Okay, you have two months left on probation. It’s obvious they’re trying to find something to prove you violated it. If you get a violation, you’ll be sent off to state prison for a stint. Have they done this crap the whole eighteen months you’ve been on probation?”
“Nah, they just started a few months ago. Not sure why. As Banger told you, they’re trying to shut the MC down. They wanna put the Insurgents outta business. Don’t have a fuckin’ clue as to why.”
“Did you have any guns or drugs at your house?”
“I can’t have a gun. I’m on probation, remember?” He smiled.
“Drugs?”
“My house was clean. Not sure if sexy pics of my ladies count.”
“The pictures won’t matter to the police.” Cara pressed her lips into a berry-stained slash. His ladies? How many women does he have? Is Kylie his main girlfriend? Crap… why do I even care?