The Horsemen would come for her.
She felt her eyes get heavy against her will. Pushing her fingers through her hair gently, she felt the dried blood. She didn’t want to take a shower and risk being naked in this place, but she also wanted to get the blood out and inspect the wound.
Vera stood and felt the room shift beneath her feet. Nausea rose up and she pressed her lips together as she collapsed back on the bed. The room continued to spin around her. Lying back, Vera closed her eyes, willing it to stop. And then without her permission, the injury from her accident took her under.
Hawk
Hawk took the bag of shit that one of Tate’s bitches had dropped off and stomped his way down the hall to where Vera was staying. He’d met with his VP, and they’d gotten two oldens to make their way to Horsemen territory.
Only a few days ago had he received word that the DEA was sniffing back around old shit that needed to stay dead. And he was well aware that the DEA thought he had been the one to pull the trigger on old man Gunner.
With the Devils pushing in from the South, and the Horsemen to the North, the Sentinels needed allies, not enemies.
He got to the door and knocked once. He heard no response, so he used his keys and let himself in.
Hawk stopped short. Vera was fast asleep on the bed. Her bare legs were smooth and long. His eyes studied her slowly, now that he had no audience. He could still see who she used. The spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks were lighter now, but they nonetheless made his chest feel both warm and uncomfortable as they always had.
He stood there and wondered, had the war between the two factions within the Horsemen never happened…would he have made her his?
Hawk knew the answer. He’d have walked through fire to have her. Get on his knees and beg Gunner and Mace and whoever wanted a hand in giving permission for the Princess to be handed over to a lowly biker with VP prospects.
They would have had time to grow together. Learn each other as they changed. As they came more fully into themselves. They wouldn’t be here now, intimate strangers. A past that connected with a future that severed.
She lay before him a woman of worth. Beautiful, kind, caring. At least that was who she’d been. He stood before her a monster. A monster who liked what he’d become.
When Hawk’s gaze got to her face, he noted that it was contorted in pain. Not in peaceful repose.
He frowned.
Dropping the bag by the bed, he walked over to her side. He reached out and shook her leg. “Yo, Princess.”
Her body moved with his strength, but she didn’t wake.
He snapped his fingers near her face.
Nothing.
His gaze looked at her closely.
It was then that he noticed the dried blood in her hair. He felt his chest pitch south into his gut. He hadn’t thought to ask her if she were hurt. He hadn’t thought to ask her anything.
Fuck. Oldens or not, hurting Mace’s little sister would be enough for all-out war. He ignored the sick feeling in his stomach that Vera may have been hurt and he’d done nothing to help. Old habits die hard.
He and Mace had been best friends growing up. And Vera had always been around. She’d always been a silly, teeny little thing with fire in her eyes.
And to Hawk’s fascination and horror, he’d watched her grow up into a young woman other guys in their school couldn’t keep their eyes off of. It’d had been the cause of more than one fight he’d started.
But it wasn’t the way she looked that had made him so protective of her. Yeah, he didn’t want others coveting what he considered his to protect. It was more than that. Vera was the one who’d sat with him when his mother had gone early to the grave. She had, like many times before, climbed into his window in his first-floor bedroom and stayed with him. He’d said nothing. No crying, no talk of good memories. No. They’d sat side by side on his bed, her hand in his.
When he’d woken the next morning she had been gone.
For years that was what she was to him. A safe harbor. Truly his best friend. No walls, no shields. He had no reason to hide from her.
That had all changed when their fathers had waged a war that divided the allegiance of the Horsemen.
The day they’d picked up and left for West Virginia, Vera had snuck away from her house, directly disobeying orders to stay away from the ‘traitors,’ as Gunner had called them. She hadn’t tried to hide that she’d been crying. She’d laid her small hand on his broad chest and hugged him. Her head tilted up and her soft lips pressed to his for the first time. He could taste her tears. It took everything in him to keep himself from pulling her close. Never let her go.
But he knew what she wanted. Promises.
That he would make it all okay. That this would get fixed somehow.
Instead of giving her at least the consolation of showing her he was equally devastated, he had pushed her back by her shoulders, looked down and sneered, “See you around, Princess.” He’d turned away from her, trying to ignore the pain in her eyes. It was then that he’d begun to turn into the monster he was today.
“Vera.” Hawk bent down and began to shake her harder. “Hey.”
To his utter fucking relief, her eyelids began to flutter. He watched her wince and try to turn away from him.
“Sorry, Princess, you gotta wake up.”
She mumbled and then let out a low moan. It was throaty and heavy with sleep, and even though he knew it was from the pain she was feeling, it made him hard. The hair on his neck rose.
“Hey. Open your eyes,” he told her, his voice gruff.
Slowly her hazel eyes blinked open. They were cloudy and showed more than a hint of discomfort.
Without a second thought, he pushed his hand under her back and forced her up. Her tits thrust out invitingly, but he kept his eyes on her face as he pushed her into a seated position.
She continued to blink but said nothing. She didn’t seem to have all cylinders firing.
“Fuck,” he ground out. Hawk pulled his cell out and texted his repairman, Steel. Steel had seen some time in the military as a medic.
Not two or three minutes later, Steel pushed his way through the door.
“What’s up?” He came to stand beside Hawk, completely unfazed that they had a captive in their clubhouse.
“Thinking concussion.”
Steel nodded and began to assess the situation. Hawk watched as his man went through the motions. And he felt his hackles rise when Steel gently placed his hands on Vera’s face. He pushed it down.
After using a penlight, Steel stood back up and nodded. “Concussion.”
Through this all, Vera had remained quiet. A testament to how awful she must feel.
“Goddamnit. What can we do?”
Steel shrugged. “Nothing. Keep checking on her, wake her up every hour. Ask questions she should know the answer to.”
Hawk growled his frustration.
“I can check on her again in the morning,” Steel offered.
Hawk reached out and clapped the man on the shoulder, dismissing him. “Thanks.”
Vera was sitting with her back against the wall, her hands in her lap, her gaze down. Hawk, once again, snapped his fingers. This time he got her attention.
He frowned at her. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged her delicate shoulders.
“You hit your head?”
She nodded.
“It still bleeding?”
Again, she shook her head.
Placing the bag of whatever it was on the bed, he stood with his arm crossed. “Why don’t you take a shower? Get the blood out of your hair. See if we can patch you up.”
Her eyes then shifted to his. She grimaced. “I’m not getting naked in front of you, Rider Hawkins.”
“I ain’t gonna watch.”
She stared at him.
“I ain’t gonna be a peeping tom at Mace’s little sister.”
She continued to stare. Yeah, she
was used to holding her own around guys like him. But unlike the other guys, he wouldn’t cow to her. He was the fucking President of Satan’s Sentinels. He didn’t have to kiss her ass.
“Take a fucking shower, Vera,” he commanded.
Her eyes flared and her pale skin grew more so.
Ignoring that her fear made his chest hurt, he reached out and upended the bag. He looked down at the contents. “Shampoo, some other shit for your hair, soap, lotion. Change of clothes.”
When he looked back up he saw that she too was looking at the pile. Then after a moment, she wordlessly reached out and began to place the items back into the bag. Hawk backed up and let her. She climbed from the bed, weaving a bit as she did, and made her way to the bathroom.
“Holler if you need me,” he told her gruffly, a grin wide on his face.
Vera turned, her hazel eyes aimed at him over her shoulder. And he could have sworn he saw a spark in them. Something that had him thinking she wanted him to sink deep into her as much as he wanted to be there.
And then it was gone, making him wonder if his imagination was playing tricks on him.
The door slammed with a resolute bang.
He heard the water turn on and shook off the images of her lush naked body under its spray. Just begging for his hands.
Hawk situated himself on the bed and waited for the princess to get done. He stretched his denim jeans and booted feet on the comforter and tilted his head back.
He cracked his neck a few times and tried to figure a way out of all of this without losing men. Having someone on the inside of the DEA had its perks, so knowing that he was being set up for Gunner’s death was a solid favor. He could get out in front of that. He didn't know how he was going avoid an all-out war with the Horsemen once they learned the false information.
The shower shut off, and minutes later the door opened with a billow of steam. Hawk watched beneath lowered lids as Vera emerged, already clad in the borrowed clothes. Her cheeks were rosy, but her face remained pale.
The tank top and shorts that had been provided revealed her figure. Her breasts gave way to a tiny waist that swooped out gradually to hips a man could hold onto while he fucked her from behind. Or while he set the pace as she rode him.
He wondered if his dad hadn’t had a bad idea after all proposing that the two of them shack up.
Yeah, it was something out of the 18th century, but he wouldn’t mind mixing the pleasure her body could provide with business. Hawk hadn’t learned about the offer until it was turned down, and then old man Gunner had been murdered, and things had come real close to an apocalyptic war between the two MCs. All thoughts of his mail-ordered bride had left his head completely, despite that he’d wanted her since he’d been a teen.
Hawk directed his gaze to the Princess’s eyes, searching for signs of pain or disorientation. As he did, he told himself that this was because it would really throw a wrench into his plan if he returned the woman to her MC injured. And he ignored the other part that was calling himself a fucking liar.
Vera stopped short when she saw he was lying on the bed. Her eyes traced up his legs to his torso, and then higher. She said nothing. Her face was blank.
“You feeling okay?” He ignored the fact that neither of them knew what the fuck he was doing in here.
“Yeah,” she rasped out.
Grinding his jaw against his impulses, he continued, “Need pain meds or something? You hungry?”
She shook her head, walked over to the dresser, and tossed her clothes on top. “I’m just tired.”
“’Fraid sleep is gonna be difficult for you.”
“Why?” She turned to look at him, her eyes worried and a bit fearful even. She misunderstood him.
“Thinkin’ you got a concussion. I’m gonna have to wake up you every hour. Make sure you’re okay.”
She frowned. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes.”
He watched as her expression grew frustrated, eyebrows furrowing and lips growing thin. “Look, just call for a pickup. I promise Mace won’t start anything. Just hand me over and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Hawk grinned at her assertion. “Gotta say, Princess, I don’t know much about how the Horsemen have been running since we left, but I doubt they let any chick call the shots.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, telling him he’d called her bluff.
He stood suddenly, and Vera reared back a bit at the movement. Without thinking of what was going to come out of his mouth, he swept his hand to the bed. “Just lay down. I’ll wake you up in a few.”
The tiny princess stared up at him as if trying to detect any lies. He turned his body and faced fully toward her.
The hatred in her eyes was plain to see. He knew why it was there and saw no point in correcting her. After all, this was over and she was back where she belonged, it wouldn’t matter. Instead, he allowed his gaze to take a leisurely stroll along the peaks and valleys that hadn’t existed when they were growing up. It was a landscape he’d really like to get to know with this mouth. His hands.
He’d never imagined she’d be standing in front of him as she was. He’d made himself cum more than once imagining it, but now met with the real thing…well, thoughts of keeping her rolled around in his head. He bit his lip at the idea.
Vera’s pale face, now red, looked down at the floor for a moment. Then she silently moved around him and situated herself on the shitty bed.
He watched her turn her back to him, his chest still heaving as she got herself good and comfortable and then grew still.
And yet, he continued to stare down at her small body under the covers. She gripped the blankets to her chest and made no further movements.
Instincts born years ago rose up. Hawk sighed quietly and looked to the wall directly across from the bed. He shook his head as he parked his ass on the carpet and extended his legs in front of him. Hawk glanced at her still form one more time, and then he crossed his arms and closed his eyes.
Chapter Three
Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia
Vera
Vera peeked over her shoulder. Hawk sat, as he had most of the night, propped up against the wall. How he’d been able to wake himself up just about every hour was beyond her, but now it appeared he was out cold.
Each time he’d woken her he’d asked her random questions about the day and what was happening in the world. And each time he gently felt around her head for lumps. How could this be the same man who’d helped kill her father? Looking up at him as he assessed her, she felt such betrayal. Betrayal about who he’d been and who he’d become. Who they had been to one another and who he’d allowed them to be. The pain of all that he had done and what he didn’t do stood before them like a brick wall. She’d known him once, and so she also knew he was aware of all that was between them.
Ignoring the throb in her head, Vera pushed herself into a seated position. She sat facing Hawk for a moment before she stood and moved over to the dresser. Her phone had been taken by the guy who’d hit her car, and there was no hope in getting it back. So after grabbing the clothes she’d been wearing earlier, she carefully opened the door. The hall was dim. She waited for a few seconds.
Nothing.
Peeking back at Hawk one more time, Vera turned right down the hall. The room she’d been kept in was on the other side, and so she surmised that the exit was back near where the bar was.
Slowly, with her sandals in her hand, she tiptoed down the carpeted hall. When she emerged at the mouth she stopped to peer right and then left. Not knowing how she was going to get a hold of her brother, she inspected the room quickly for any errant cell phones lying around. But today was unequivocally not her lucky day. She kept going.
Quickly looking around her she took one step closer to the exit and a hand gripped her neck. Hard.
Vera tried to turn to face the person manhandling her, but instead, the figure maneuvered her as if she were a rag doll. She was pus
hed up against the wall.
Staring down at her was the scariest man she’d ever seen. His face was horribly scarred. A thick, jagged line ran down his face from his hair to beneath his chin. It dissected his eyebrow and opposite lip, causing a permanent frown on one side. On his right cheek, he had several thick lines. He’d been stabbed in the face, too many times to count.
He had tattoos extending up his neck and disappearing beneath his shirt…but that was not what scared her. No, his dead, blue eyes were what scared her.
They were bright, too bright. Nearly white. And they held nothing but pure evil.
His hand squeezed harder and pulled so that Vera had to reach up on her tiptoes to keep her airway open. Until she couldn’t get any higher.
Her hands came up and she scratched at the man’s gigantic hand as her vision grew dim around its edges. Panic pushed its way through her system.
Vera let out a scream that amounted to a weak ass whimper. The man’s light blue eyes flared.
And then she was suddenly released. Her back was pressed harder against the wall and she saw that Hawk stood in front of her. Between her and the man who looked like a monster.
“Prez,” the man drawled lazily.
“Hyll,” Hawk replied.
Hell? The man’s name was Hell?
“Whadda we got here?” Hyll asked, a small smile playing on his face as he peered around the protection of Hawk’s body. Vera pushed down the desire to grip onto Hawk’s cut for added security. He’d always, always made her feel safe, and on a number of occasions used his body and fists to ensure her safety. It was instinctive to reach for him.
Hawk moved with the man’s eyes and replied, “No one.” He paused, “Time to go.”
Hyll’s light eyes moved to Hawk in question. “That so?”
Vera couldn’t see Hawk’s face, but she saw him nod.
And then the two stood there, both staring at each other. Silence.
Hyll’s eyes held a glint of rebellion for a moment. But then he grinned. The scar forced his mouth to stay lopsided, and Vera couldn’t help but think, that in some way, it softened his appearance.
Craving Forbidden (Craving Series Book 8) Page 5
