by V. Theia
Hawk had killed a man without remorse right there, didn’t think about it. For me. Now as she stared up at him, the tall lean stature of a wild animal in his cage untameable, blank behind his pale eyes, she wasn't scared, wasn't nervous of this man who had murdered so easily without blinking, she'd never seen such quick skilled violence like that before, accounting for all that she was eternally grateful.
Unsure how to proceed, murder in broad daylight, thank god it was still reasonably early for the towns people to be out, her feet were rooted to the floor, staring at Hawk for answers, whose eyes remained downcast at the bleeding man slumped in his grave.
It was no place to die but nothing Hades didn't have coming. Rot in hell.
Zara was never a woman to feel hate for anyone.
Consumed with it for that man, for all those men. It had lived like a darkness in her every waking moment. And now it was just...gone, died with Hades. The chain had been broken.
"That yellow thing your car? You need to get in, get to the club as quick as you can, don't fucking stop for anything, nothing, you hear? You see a deer in the road you slice right through it. A cop car flags you down you keep fucking going. Rider will be at the other end." His sandpaper-rough voice brought her out of her thoughts with a hazy blink.
Oh, fuck. Hades was dead.
Jesus Christ. Gone. It was real.
Shudders racked her body until Hawk grabbed her hands in both of his. "Girl! Fucking listen to me, you get back to the club now. You were never here. I need to go deal with the CCTV inside and then I'm behind you."
"Right. Okay. Okay." She didn't move. Her eyes wild.
“Fucks sake," Hawk growled and proceeded to guide/drag her out of the long narrow alleyway, his hand fisted in her cotton shirt, the other wrapped around her back, across an empty parking lot, oh there was his bike, she thought, parked nearby her car, but she hadn’t heard him drive up…demanding her car key fingers shook digging in her pocket, her head turned, glancing at the body she was sure would jump up any second and attack. She’d seen horror movies, the dead always got back up.
"You don’t need to look at that, girl. Get in."
Zara's inhales quickened, choppy breaths rendering her dizzy.
Had that all just happened? Her hand shook brushing hair from her eyes. Bile rose in her sore throat directly from her belly and she had to swallow fast. Hawk shoved her into her car, even leaned himself in and started the engine, clipped on her belt, she was frozen, her hands shaking horribly.
"You killed him." Stating the obvious. She needed to say it. To know it was true, that Hades was gone.
"Yes. I killed him. Fucking drive already, girl."
He was dead. She shouldn’t be this relieved at another person’s death, it was ungodly, but the feeling was there in her chest. Euphoric adrenaline almost had her laughing nervously.
God. If she craned her head around the massive bulk of Hawk straightening up to his full height she could still see the lifeless figure, blood oozing out of the many holes Hawk had plugged into him.
Oh god. Oh god. She was going to go to jail. Hawk would go to jail.
He already hated her guts.
Why did he ... she blinked, making her eyes focus, breeze chopping hair around her face as the engine idled. "Why did you---why did you do that…for me? You hate me," emotion came thick, fast, right on the back of her panic.
He had blood on his hands, literal blood covering his long-tapered fingers. Strange to notice he had nice hands now, despite his dishevelled appearance Hawk had round nails, clipped short and clean…save for the blood staining his skin.
It was in the darkest of moments that the light shone through. Or so her mother would ramble. Zara couldn't see any light past the hard noise her heart was making inside her chest. She was definitely going to jail. She couldn’t handle prison; she’d become someone’s bitch for sure. Her panic swelled.
Rider.
Rider.
Please, god, let me get to Rider. She needed him. Tears rushed to her eyelashes. It was better than the vomit she wanted to spew everywhere.
"You really wanna talk about our feelings right now, girl, with a dead-fucking-body not ten feet away? Get your head on." Hawk was growling, shoving his hands into his inner pocket of his Renegade Souls leather jacket, coming out with a dirty rag he scrubbed his hands. "Get gone. Let me sort this shit. Motherfucker can get eaten by wild coyotes for all I care. Don’t you give it a thought. Go!" slamming her car door shut, she watched the tall VP stride back to the store like he hadn't just stabbed a man umpteen times, making a call at the same time.
Zara wished she had his cool calm persona.
But then ... no, she didn't because Hawk might possibly be the scariest person on the planet, he certainly didn't look like he had a soul left. He saved me.
It was a long-tortured drive home, seriously fucking terrible, she replayed it all on a loop, her eyes wild and frantic she barely glanced forward for looking back checking for cops, sure they'd appear out of nowhere to arrest her.
Home. Rider. Home.
Palms sweaty, her stomach continued to roll, dread leached out of her every pore. If was as if she was living a nightmare all over again. She wished she’d been better equipped to deal, but she just wasn’t.
It wasn't as though she was even sorry Hades was dead, she wanted him six feet under, but outside of a seven-eleven in the middle on a Fall morning, the store clerk was a sixteen-year-old boy who had flirted shamelessly with Zara both times she’d been there. What if he'd seen it, heard it? she had to trust Hawk knew what he was doing.
Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tight, willing herself towards the MC.
Nearly there. Just a bit further. Keep going. I can puke when I get there. Just a while longer.
She didn’t even stop when she doubled over the passenger seat and puked all over.
Okay, puking now then.
Her throat raw and burning, she brushed her mouth on her forearm, kept right on driving. She was maybe a mile away from the surrounding clubhouse when she spotted a bike in the distance heading towards her. Two bikes, three and more. Her foot hit the gas. The way her heart sped up had her believing it could only be Rider, she didn't slow until she was sure, the distinct frame of her man hunched over the handlebars.
There he was.
Riding like a demon, his face pulled tautly. They came to a stop at the same time, Zara was out of the car and sprinting towards him, the other bikes stopped but she only had eyes for one, she dodged Snake's bike, it almost clipped her hip when he rolled to a halt. "RIDER!" her ordinary voice boomed, emotion-laced through it, her legs jelly still carried her forward, her man had jumped from his bike and was doing the same thing.
Bizarre to see alarm on his face, she was so used to him being this overpowering tower of force, instead his jaw was taut with concern, as he advanced towards her in a ripple of muscle and aggression, she was swept up a second later, held so tight, feet off the floor crushed to his chest, she was in no doubt to how affected he was. "Rider. Oh god, Rider."
"Zara, baby. I got you. I got you, baby. Fuck. Fuck. Hold onto me. I’m here."
There. Right there.
Comfort flooding her system, she fell into his arms letting him hold her up, the only energy she had was to band her arms around his neck, she had no plans to let go. She was drunk on relief endorphins saturating her system.
"I love you. I love you. Oh, my god. I couldn't. I thought. I needed to tell you before. I didn't think I'd get a chance to tell you. I love you so much, Ambrosio, you are my everything, my all, I love you so fucking much." Her words ran together, she clung so hard, so goddamn relieved to see him, to touch and hold her man. Rider drew her back, held her face in his large hands, and she saw his face soft yet murderous, every line etched in anger.
"He's dead." she blurted at once. “He’s gone. He can’t--can’t hurt us anymore.”
"Hades.” chimed a menacing voice behind her before she could get the words out. Hawk str
ode like the grim reapers brother, coat flapping at his hips. Twice now she hadn't heard his arrival. The damn man was a phantom.
They were all in the middle of the road surrounding Zara and Rider, a formidable crew to be reckoned with.
“He’s dead? How?” the question directed to Hawk but Rider’s eyes were on her face, she reached up and put her hand to his cheek, just testing he was real, that she wasn’t dead after all.
Hawk told him in short sharp detail. Ending with. “I know you wanted the kill. But I didn’t think you’d want him dragging your girl off somewhere, so I stopped him.” he shrugged like it had been nothing.
It was everything.
Zara, if she ever got over this latest trauma and the anxiety zipping through her body she was pretty sure she’d have to hero-worship Hawk now.
“Goddamn, bro.” Laughed Preacher slapping him on the back. “I mean fuck, really, I might love you now, you crazy sonuvabitch.”
The others joined in with the celebration.
Expletives poured out of Rider, dragging her into his arms again, his entire body was quaking. She squeezed tigher.
“I’m fine,” she told him. She really was. Or would be. “It’s over. I’m fine. Hawk made sure of that. I’m so sorry, I should have stayed at home. I didn’t think. It’s my fault. I promise to listen next time a lunatic is after me.” Someone behind them laughed.
Holy shit. That ordeal part of her life was truly over.
And yet those minutes of not knowing if she’d ever see Rider again, to tell him how she felt had been pure hell. She would have endured ten gruesome deaths over those unknown minutes. She sagged against him, held up by the arms around her. She tuned out at that point, letting the men gather and discuss, there was fast talk of a clean-up for Hades needed asap, but her brain wouldn’t register anything other than Rider holding her. One by one the men climbed back onto their bikes.
"Goddamn, Zara. I thought..."
She could guess what he thought and was right there with him in that fear. She clung to him long after the men disappeared down the road. "Let's get you home, baby," he added gently, kissing her forehead. Zara grimaced, led back towards her car, a prospect had ridden Rider's bike to the club.
"Rider...I puked in my brand-new car." on the verge of tears.
Maybe it was the way in which she said, sounding more distressed about that than nearly ending up dead. Rider laughed and wrapped her in his arms. "I'll deal with it, Icy. Let’s get you home."
Sometime later she assured Rider she really was okay, he tended to the bruising on her neck, her big bad biker man was so caring it was that gesture that finally cracked. She sobbed into his chest.
“I should have been there. Fucks sake.”
“Rider, this is not on you. It's over now. I couldn’t be without you, I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I got you. No one is gonna fuckin’ harm you again, I swear it on my club and patch. I haven’t had nearly enough time to love you, you’re not goin’ anywhere ever again.”
“I so fucking love you, biker man.” she laughed with water dripping down her face, she could bet she looked shockingly ugly but she didn’t care, she’d been given the chance to tell this man she was so freaking in love with him it made her heart burst, she wasn’t wasting a moment of it.
I love him so damn much. The power of it shook air right through her. Needing to say it over on repeat, she leaned into him. Connected by love and mutual obsession. “I love you. I love you, Rider. My Ambrosio. I love you. I love you, my bad biker man. I love you.” her nose nuzzled his cheek.
His smile grew, held on his face before his neck reached down and their lips touched gently.
“Love you, too, Icy, more than fuckin’ anything. But ya think you might not try getting half killed next time before you decide to find the fuckin’ guts to tell me?”
Zara laughed watery, flinging arms around him.
Perfect oftentimes was staring you right in the face, holding you in its arms and you didn’t even realize it until it was too late. Zara had been given another chance at life, she didn’t know why, or if she deserved it but boy she was never going to take perfection for granted again.
Her bad biker man was perfect, truly, for her, in every way that counted.
Together and Perfect.
You’re stuck with me now, biker man.
She was alive with every breath, every laugh, every kiss he pressed to her face, drunk on elation, Rider intoxicated, in love with him as if she’d only just discovered he was her soul and for twenty-six years she had breathed all this time with her heart outside of her body. Impossible. She clung and loved him with her arms banded strong.
Through all the odds stacked against them here, they were.
Together finally and on the same page.
She adored a bad biker man with everything she had and then some and Zara was pretty freaking happy about it.
The murder of the day aside.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
"Goodbye..." – Hawk
“I’ll have to get gone for a while, bro. Too many what if’s. In broad fucking daylight. I got the cam footage from the kid inside, threw him a few Benjis, but who knows if there was a witness somewhere. There’s isn't a body to investigate, but I didn’t have long to clean up once Lawless arrived with the pickup.”
“Agreed. It won’t be for long, Hawk. When will you go?” Rider’s tone was flat. His best friend had saved his old lady. He didn’t want to lose Hawk for any number of time from the club, but until the heat died down surrounding the Raging Rebel’s club fire and the manhunt for Hades going full scale according to his sources, they wouldn’t take chances with any shit rolling back onto his VP. As it was he’d sent three of his prospects out to that seven-eleven store to scout around quietly to see and listen and to dump a ton of bleach in that alleyway. A good snowfall would help.
Fuck. If things had been different, if Hawk hadn’t seen Zara’s ridiculous yellow car in the parking lot he would have rode straight past.
He came too damn close to losing her.
Visibly inhaling calming air down into his lungs, he set it out slowly before looking across at Hawk.
The two brothers---not by blood but through loyalty and shared respect for all the shit they’d been through together---- sat at the long table within their church, the doors closed leaving them alone. Rider had already given his VP his thanks, Hawk dismissing it, calls would need to be made if Hawk was to lie low in another chapter, as far away as he could go.
Luckily the Renegade Souls had chapters in most every state.
“Soon as I can throw some shit into a bag, not like I got a lot anyway.”
“Hawk...”
“Don’t, Rider.” He warned as if guessing Rider wanted to show his gratitude.
Hawk was allergic to emotion.
Rider sighed, drummed fingers on the table, his eyes boring into the side of his friend’s face.
“Thought it’d be me who would take that cocksucker out. For the club and for my old lady.”
“Dead is dead. Doesn’t matter how he got there, he’s there now.”
True. And still.
“You got my girl out of there, Hawk. Fuckin’ grateful, can’t even tell you how much, you get me? There will be a day I can repay it, you name it, it’s yours. I mean it.”
Hawk frowned. “It’s no big, Rider. Forget it. Hades, had it coming. I’ve wanted to kill that assclown for years even when he prospect’ed, cocky little shit even then, I was just the lucky one.”
Rider let it drop.
But when both men rose he dragged his friend into a back-thumping hug. “Okay, let’s find a fuckin’ hole for you to hide in, brother, get your shit together, I’ll get on those calls.”
******
Seeing Hawk kick the stand up of his Harley, Zara grasped she only had about a minute before he was gone if she wanted to have a word with him. It had been busy in the clubhouse the last few hours, plastered to Ride
r's side. Hawk hadn't taken much time to say his goodbyes to his brothers, a few grunts, that half smile of his and a shoulder slap and then he was outside. She pulled out of Rider's lap, his brow rose in question. "I'll be back in a second." was all she told him. Not even stopping to grab her sweater, her boots clopped as she made her way across to him. Understanding Hawk and how she interpreted his cold feelings about her he was likely to just ride off even if he saw her so she made sure to hurry.
His body was sat on the bike, swung around securing his saddle bag, the only indication he knew she was there was the tightening of his fists when he faced the handlebars, gripping them.
He really was an intimidating man.
But she had something to say, and dammit, even the big scary beast was not going to stop her.
Forgetting the cooler night air whipping her hair into her face, her chin went up, shoulders back.
"Hawk. What you did for me, or not, for the club. Thank you. Thank you so much."
No eye contact whatsoever, but his eyebrows drew down and Zara took it as a sign he was listening at least. Hawk looked like the kind of man who ate, drank and swam backstroke to the murky depths of sarcasm on a regular basis and if he knew how to take gratitude, she was about to find out. She could see now why the outward pissed off persona had initially scared her away, scared everyone away. It was what he wanted.
Despite shabby appearances Hawk didn't smell bad at all, in fact she smelled clean soap, he just appeared unwashed and in need of a vigorous beard brushing, he could do with a new shirt, she'd seen him in the same ratty Guns N Roses black shirt so often, the pattern faded so much on the front it was hard to tell if it was the rock band or he just liked flowers, and the hem had seen better days.
She watched him zip his jacket to his chin, and pull on a pair of leather gloves, skulls decorated across the knuckles.
She had a million questions she wanted to ask him, namely why he’d protected her when for weeks now he’d given the very obvious impression he would like Zara to disappear from the MC. It would have been simple for him to ignore and ride on by. Questions rattled around her brain.
