by Chiah Wilder
“Sometimes judges set bail high if the defendant is on parole or probation. They say they found a half box of .22-caliber ammo on your kitchen table. Did you have the ammo?”
Cara jumped as Hawk slammed his fists on the table. “Those goddamn fuckers! I didn’t have any ammo in my house. What, do you think I’m stupid? Fuck this shit. Did they say they found a gun?”
Cara shook her head. “Calm down. I know this blows, but I had to ask. I’m sure it was a plant. The problem is, how am I going to prove it? I want you to know I’m working on it. If they can prove these rounds belong to you, then you’re facing five years.”
Hawk shook his head. “Fuck that!” He reached for her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “When I find out what the fuck’s goin’ on, I’ll kill every bastard who messed with me. This is bullshit.”
He brought her palms up to his lips, licking and kissing them. Cara squirmed in her chair, cleared her throat, and pulled away from his grasp. “I have Asher calling the sheriff’s office for the pre-raid photos. I want to see if the ammo was on the table before they started the search.”
They sat there looking at each other, and Hawk thought he saw sadness in her eyes. He hoped she wasn’t feeling sorry for him again; he’d survived four tours in Afghanistan and had seen his best friend blown up by a landmine, so a few days in this shithole didn’t faze him at all. He was just pissed that he had to take the time out to deal with this trumped-up bullshit. Cara had no clue. No. Fucking. Clue. But she did look hot in her suit.
He folded his arms, tipped his chair back, and said in a low voice, “You look sexy playing lawyer. Do you have on those red lacy panties I saw you wearing when you were bent over your garden?”
She looked down, cheeks staining red, white teeth biting her lower lip. She’s so hot when she’s all shy. Fuck, I want to spread her pretty ass cheeks and slam my cock right into her wet pussy. He needed to fuck her rough and hard, to hear her scream as his dick hammered into her juiciness. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his now swollen cock. “Are you wearing the red panties?”
Twisting in her chair, she said, “I don’t think my underwear should be on your mind right now, you know?”
“Right now, babe, that’s the only thing on my mind. I hate all this, and having to be here is a load of shit and you know it. Your red panties and me thinking about ripping them off you is what’s keeping me from kicking the shit outta one of these fuckin’ badges.”
“You had to surrender yourself. Like I told you, there was an arrest warrant issued for you over the weekend. I’ll try and get you out of here today, but for now, I have to go. I’ll see you in court in a couple of hours. It’s going to be fine.” She brushed his forearm.
“Who said it wasn’t gonna be? I’m countin’ on you, counselor.”
Their eyes locked, and an understanding passed between them: she would take care of him in this arena. Shifting his gaze from her eyes to her ample breasts, Cara’s cheeks crimsoned again as Hawk chuckled softly. He just couldn’t figure her out—she was an aggressive attorney, but she acted all shy and shit with him. Damn. Even in this shithole, she turns me on.
“I’d think you’d have more pressing matters to think about other than my boobs,” she said while standing up.
“When I stop looking at your tits, babe, then I’ll know I’m up the river.” His dimpled smile mocked her.
“I’d suggest you get your priorities straight. Stop undressing me every time we meet, and start working on your anger issues so you don’t explode during the bail hearing.”
“You like bossing men around, don’t you? Does it turn you on, or something?”
“Unlike you, not everything turns me on. I just need you to focus on what’s important so I can better defend you.”
“Fuck, baby, you’re enjoying this power trip. I’ll give it to you, for now, but once this bullshit is over, I’m gonna fuck you like you were meant to be fucked.”
“Yeah, right. Drop your tough attitude when you get in front of Judge Romero today. He won’t be impressed any more than I am.” She motioned to the deputy she was ready to leave. The door opened and she disappeared down the long hallway. The deputy then came for Hawk, dragging him down the opposite end of the hall toward the cellblock, where he belonged, according to the uniform.
Fucking badge.
Back in his cell, Hawk couldn’t stop thinking of Cara. She had a mouth on her, and a feisty attitude, too. Her shyness threw him. He liked that she could give him shit yet still be timid when he checked her luscious body out. What blew him away was that he hadn’t gotten her into bed, yet. He would; of that he was one hundred percent certain. She wasn’t an easy touch, not at all, but he liked that about her—easy women bored him. This hot woman with an attitude piqued his interest, and he wanted to know more about her, as well as see a lot more of her.
Glancing at the hall clock, Hawk saw he had another two hours before he’d see her again. Sitting next to her in court, breathing in her vanilla-scented perfume and fantasizing about sucking her soft tits would almost make this bullshit worth it. As far as he was concerned, the time couldn’t pass fast enough. He was banking on his sexy lawyer to get bail set for him; he was itching to return to his world.
* * *
When Hawk entered the clubhouse, all the brothers cheered and whistled as Banger stood at the end of the bar, grinning. Shit, it’s good to be home with the family. He went to the bar and one of the prospects, Jerry, handed him a shot of whiskey. All the brothers came over to him, jabbing him in the ribs and clapping their hands on his shoulders.
“She done good,” Banger said.
“Yeah. The prick DA was fuckin’ pissed when the judge set bail.” Hawk threw down his shot of Jack. The burning liquid was smooth as it went down his throat. “Thanks, brother, for getting the money together,” he said to Banger in a low voice.
“No problem at all. You were a brother in need, and next time, it may be me or any of the other brothers. We’re in this together and for the long haul.”
The other men, fists in the air, cried out in unison, “Insurgents Forever, Forever Insurgents.” Hawk downed another shot and slammed the glass on the bar. The hoots and whistles reverberated off the great room’s walls.
“Go get some grub. The ol’ ladies made some good pulled pork, and tell Doris and Bernie their men want them,” Banger said.
Hawk, approaching the kitchen, overheard the old ladies as they talked.
“What’s all the noise about?” Bernie, one of the old ladies, asked as she looked toward the great room.
“Hawk’s back. He made bail and he’s back where he belongs,” Doris replied.
“They’ll be partyin’ hard, come Friday. PJ told me some other chapters are coming in from Wyoming. It’s gonna be crazy.” Bernie laughed.
“The other old ladies want to do a ladies’ night. I’m havin’ it at our house. We’ll have pizza and shots. You down for that?”
“Count me in, Doris.”
“Here’s the hero,” Doris said, smiling at Hawk as he came into the kitchen.
“I’m not a fuckin’ hero,” he grumbled.
“You got bail. How many brothers ’round here ever got bail?” Doris asked.
“I have a kick-ass lawyer. Ruben and PJ want you both in the great room.” Hawk stuffed a pulled pork sandwich in his mouth. After eating institution food, the sandwich tasted like a gourmet meal.
When he was done, Hawk, bone-tired and achy from trying to sleep on a hard cot the previous night, climbed the stairs to his room, looking forward to lying down on his bed and shutting everything out. As he opened his door, a pervasive floral scent assaulted his nose. “Want company, honey?” a husky voice asked.
Turning around, he saw Lola standing behind him. Frowning and folding his arms across his chest, he shook his head. Leaning into him, Lola scratched his back with her fingernails. “Are you sure?”
“Go downstairs. There’re a lot of brothers who would love your
company. Not interested.”
“I don’t want none of them. I want you, Hawk. I love the way you fucked me. I’ve been thinkin’ about it and been missin’ you.” She licked her red-tipped finger.
“I’m tired. Don’t piss me off.”
Seeing Hawk’s menacing glare, Lola pulled away from him and retreated.
In his room, he put his jacket and cut on the chair. Lying down on his bed, he smiled as he remembered how aggressive Cara had been in court earlier that day, and how she had that DA pussy-whipped. The way she kept leaning forward, pressing her breasts together with her arms—that judge’s eyes never left her tits. That fucking DA never had a chance against Cara, not with her beautiful face, her sexy cleavage, and her feisty attitude. Hawk was ready to fuck her right there on the floor, in front of the pimpled-faced DA, the lecherous judge, the prim court reporter, and those asshole bailiffs.
The way that black-robed jerk kept looking at her during the bail hearing drove Hawk crazy, and he started thinking all kinds of shit, like she and the judge were fucking, or they had a fling in the past. He hoped she hadn’t fucked the judge because he didn’t like the idea of other men seeing Cara’s delectable tits, kissing her full lips, or stroking her wet pussy.
Rolling over on his side, Hawk punched his pillow, stretched his legs, and fought to be comfortable. Cara buzzed in his head, and he couldn’t stop the thoughts. I am totally fucked. He thought about her all the time. Even during church he focused on her, wondering what she was doing. In all his life, he had never met a woman like her, or one who held his interest for so long—one he had yet to fuck. He wanted to be inside her, and he knew she wanted it, too. The fact that she held back pissed him off, yet also enticed the shit out of him.
Hawk unzipped his jeans to take the pressure off his erection, wishing Cara were there to suck his dick and play with his balls. Sleep eluding him, he sat up. He could open his door and have any of the club whores ease the tension in his hardness, but he didn’t want any of them—he wanted Cara.
Fuck! What the hell was his problem? He’d always been a fuck-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy, and he viewed sluts as holes he screwed and nothing more. Since he loved pussy so much, any bitch would do, but since he met Cara, the only pussy he wanted was hers. Dammit to hell, he never felt such a pull with any other woman, and, yeah, it figured that he had a primal attraction to a wealthy, stuck-up chick who thought her shit didn’t stink. What the hell was he doing? She was out of his league, but her kisses and moans told him she wanted him and he may have a chance. He figured they needed to fuck good and hard to rid the sexual tension that was between them. Yeah, that was all he needed: one night of banging his hot attorney, and he’d be back to normal.
Sighing, Hawk slipped off his pants and went into the bathroom to take a shower.
Chapter Eight
Hannah Jackson trembled as tears rolled down her sun-kissed cheeks, their wetness bringing some comfort to her dry lips. The man’s back was to her, and she knew he was going to do horrible things to her. Already, he’d burned her with his cigarettes, the round, angry marks spotting her body. The pain had been excruciating, so she’d screamed. The louder she shrieked, the more he burned her, so she had bit her lips and tried to muffle her cries.
Hannah wished she hadn’t decided to walk home after working at Della’s Sandwich Shop. She should have waited for her brother to come pick her up, but Ricky, the guy she’d had a crush on since high school, said he’d come by, so she wanted to get home sooner to shower and change. Since she didn’t want him to see her in her uniform, she didn’t wait for her brother to pick her up, and then this guy drove up asking for directions. He had a map, and his overhead light was on. She couldn’t see the map so well, and when he’d asked her to get in the car to show him where he was, she jumped in. She wasn’t afraid of him at all—he had a nice face.
After showing him his destination, she reached to open the door when he stopped her. Before she reacted, he took out a gun, saying in a low, cruel voice, “Scream and your brains will be in your lap.” Hannah looked at him, and his kind features had contorted into something evil. Shivers ran up the back of her neck, and as they drove away from her town, Hannah wondered if she’d ever see her parents again.
At that moment, Hannah’s abductor moved toward her with a stun gun and two oversized dildos. Her eyes widened in fear as he knelt next to her prone form. Her arms were tied above her head and her legs fastened spread-eagle. He wiped away the tears on her cheeks and ran his fingers through her long, blonde hair.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a low, soft voice. Touching her, he placed a soft kiss on the base of her throat and she cringed. Sucking in his breath, his eyes misted with lust, he caressed her right breast then brought his mouth down over her burnt nipple, biting down hard. Hannah gasped from the pain.
When her torturer’s smooth hand found her genitals, he rubbed his finger up and down, tugging at the light hair on her dry lips. Lifting his head, he stared into her watery blue eyes. With a cruel smile, he brought the stun gun up to her breast and zapped her. Unbearable pain ripped through her body, and she screamed. Laughing without humor, he zapped her again. Her delicate body convulsed, her mouth went dry, all her muscles tightened, and as she was reeling from the pain, the monster grasped one of the dildos and shoved it into her private parts. Searing pain shot straight through to her head as her hymen broke. As she cried out, he jammed the dildo in her even harder and deeper.
“I’m going to fuck every hole you have, slut!”
When he forced the dildo higher, Hannah realized she was going to die. She knew her last moments on Earth were going to be agonizing, and all the things she wanted to do—fall in love, finish college, have a family—would never happen. She was going to die on that dirty mat in a cold warehouse, and her damaged and bruised body would be the last image anyone would see. Terror’s icy fingers seized her; she didn’t want to die. The agony came in torrents, and she longed for the torture to stop. The pain numbed her brain, and darkness took over as Hannah slipped away.
* * *
“What do they mean, they lost the pre-raid photos?” Cara said.
“That’s what they told me. I quote, ‘The pre-raid photos have been misplaced,’ end of quote,” Asher answered.
“That’s a crock of shit! Maybe these photos were ‘misplaced’ because they don’t show any ammo on the table pre-raid? Dammit!”
“I know, boss. It sucks.”
“It more than sucks. I need to get those pictures. Neither of us believes this bullshit story, right?”
Asher nodded. Cara threw her legal pad across her desk. All of her suspicions of a frame job were confirmed. This was bogus. She had to get a hold of those photos.
“I think I’ll give Josh a call.”
Asher raised his eyebrows. “Do you think you should start that up again?”
“Josh and I are friends. We haven’t been romantic since before law school, like, seven years ago.”
“He still carries a torch for you.”
“Even better, because I need his help. Anyway, I’m hooking him up with Sherrie. She goes for guys in uniforms.” Cara picked up the phone.
“I thought she liked the bartender at the biker bar.”
“She’s moved on. He was too busy gawking at all the girls. I’ve got to call her. Ugh, I’m too busy.”
“With the biker boys.”
Cara rolled her eyes. “Make yourself useful and follow-up on the DNA testing in the Osman case. He goes to preliminary hearing in three days.”
Laughing, Asher left Cara’s office to start his work. Cara smiled to herself, thinking how she’d lucked out with Asher as her legal assistant. He was a perfect match for her personality.
Cara dialed Josh’s number. “Josh, hiya, this is Cara. It’s been a while, but I have a huge favor to ask you.”
* * *
Hawk, rubbing his pulsing temples, cursed under his breath when he heard a knock on his bedroom d
oor. Opening the door with a towel around his waist, he motioned for Banger to come in. The president entered the small room, sat on a cushioned chair by the window, and looked out at the hints of yellow dotting the mountains. “Fall’s comin’ early this year.”
Hawk grunted. “I don’t think you came here to take in the view. What’s on your mind?”
“I thought I’d be interrupting a pussy session.” Hawk stared, stone-faced, so Banger continued, “I guess I should be wonderin’ why you ain’t eatin’ pussy right now. Shit, there’re ’bout four whores downstairs who are dyin’ to be ridin’ your cock. What the fuck?”
“You came all the way up here to find out if I was fuckin’ a slut? Why aren’t you fuckin’ one of them?”
“Already did.”
“I’m tired, that’s all.”
“Is it? The lawyer bitch did a good job. I didn’t think she could do it.”
“Why not? She’s smart and she knows her stuff. She’s way better than that crook, Les.”
“Why you callin’ Les a crook? He got us the licenses for the dispensaries and we’re making a shit load of money, legally.” Banger laughed aloud. “Remember what a pain in the ass it was when the club was dealing in illegal drugs? The badges were always snooping around, especially in Denver when the brothers would do pick-ups or deliveries. Now, the club’s making a ton of money by growing and selling weed. We live in a great state! Fuck, it’s too sweet. We’re pulling in millions, and it’s all legal. No more dealing crack and smack. It’s fuckin’ ironic.”
“Yeah, but Les wants a big piece of it. He’s taking almost fifty percent,” Hawk said.
“What? When did this happen? I gotta talk with him. No way are we paying him fifty percent. Fuck that greedy bastard!”
“Agreed. We should replace him with Cara. I know she wouldn’t cheat us.”
“How do you know she’d want to come in?”
“I can talk to her. Feel her out, you know?”
“Is this suggestion a hundred percent for the club, or you got personal reasons, too?”
