by Chiah Wilder
Rot turned to see what happened to Viper, and in the split-second he diverted his attention, Hawk had him on his back, punching the shit out of him. Chas ran over to Hawk and said, “We gotta get outta here. Jax’s hurt bad.”
Hawk ran over to Jax’s side as his eyes rolled back in his head, blood oozing from his wound. “Don’t die on me, brother. Don’t fuckin’ die on me.” Hawk took off his shirt and pressed down hard on Jax’s wound to try and stop the bleeding. His pleas to a fallen brother broke Cara’s heart.
“Let’s go. We’ve gotta get him help. Let’s move!” Chas ran out of the shack and screamed for Ruben.
Cara stared wide-eyed at Hawk. “You can’t move him. If you do, he’ll die. You know this is insane.”
Hawk, kneeling by Jax, extended his hand to Cara. She grasped it and he drew her close to him before he hugged her and feathered kisses on her beaten face. Holding her next to him, he whispered, “I can’t let Jax die. You’re right. If he doesn’t get to a hospital, he’ll die. Call 911.”
“I already did.”
When Ruben and Chas came back in, Hawk said, “Take off. No sense involving yourselves. I’ll handle this. Badges and ambulance are on their way. Ride to freedom. Go. Now.”
“We’re standing with you, brother,” they said. “We’ve got your back.”
No matter how hard Hawk argued, Chas and Ruben were resolute in their decision.
Cara sat on the ground, transfixed. She hadn’t seen Viper move since she cracked his skull. What if I killed him? I can’t deal with this. But, I had to stop him. I had to. He would’ve killed Hawk, but I can’t believe I killed him. I can’t believe any of this happened. How did my life get so fucked-up?
Hawk, his eyes narrowed in hatred, walked over to Viper. As he stood over the crumpled man, he stomped his leather boot on Viper’s balls with full force. “Never.” Stomp. “Fuckin’.” Stomp. Stomp. “Touch my woman.” Stomp. Two kicks. “Motherfucker!” Two more kicks to the side and face. The wail of sirens drew near, and Cara moved away from Hawk and walked over to Eric’s lifeless body. Kneeling, she put her head on his cold chest and shivered. She smoothed out his shirt with trembling fingers, her breathing labored. Squeezing her eyes shut as her shoulders shook, Hawk came over to rub her back and stroke her hair in silence.
Red and blue lights flashed through the grimy windows, and Ruben and Chas stood aside as the paramedics rushed in, kneeling beside Jax. Right away, they placed him on high-flow oxygen after they examined his airway then placed a pressure bandage on his wound to stop the bleeding. One of the men checked Jax’s pulse and said, “Sir, can you hear me? Sir?” Jax’s eyelids fluttered.
The men worked fast to get Jax on a long back board. They rolled him toward them, and one of the medics patted down his back to look for the bullet’s exit wound, but found nothing. When they loaded him on a gurney and into the ambulance, Cara heard one of the paramedics ask, “Are you feeling any pain?” She looked at the opened door and saw Jax hooked up to two IVs. One of the paramedics came back into the shack. “I need someone who can answer some questions about the injured’s alcohol or drug usage tonight and when he last ate. I also need to know if he’s taking any medication or if he has any allergies. Who can help me with that?”
Giving Cara a hug, Hawk stood up and walked toward the ambulance. She watched the doors close, then the red flashing lights and wailing siren sped away.
A grip on her shoulder forced her to turn around. Josh gave Cara a faint smile and held her arm as he helped her to her feet. Her legs were wobbly, and she collapsed into his arms. Two police officers taped off the area around Eric’s body as they processed the scene. Josh dragged her out of the way, the biting cold reviving her as Cara gulped in breaths of icy air.
“Eric did horrible things to those women, Josh. How could he? How could I not have known something was wrong?” she said in a flat voice.
“I know this is hard, Cara, but please don’t blame yourself. Eric was a very disturbed man. Try to think of the Eric you knew, not the one he had become.”
“I think I killed Viper. I know he would’ve killed Hawk if I hadn’t stopped him. I think I killed a man.” The gravity of her statement hit her full-force, and warm dampness streaked her face.
“Viper isn’t dead. He’s hurt, but he isn’t dead.”
Cara crossed her arms around her chest, took a deep breath, and geared herself up for a long night. She wanted to go home, take a warm shower, and shut off her memory. She looked at Josh and said, “Let’s get this over with.”
Inside the shack, she saw Chas and Ruben as detectives spoke to them, answering the investigators’ questions in single syllables. They avoided her looks. One of the detectives walked over and told her he wanted to take her statement. Cara sighed before she recited what happened on one of the longest nights of her life.
Chapter Thirty-One
It seemed fitting that Eric’s funeral was on a gray, bleak morning. Dressed in black, the mourners looked like a flock of crows, their coats and veils whipping furiously in the bitter wind. They crowded before a mahogany casket, a white cloak draped over it. Cara’s aunt, Eric’s mother, sat on a canvas folding chair, sobbing, while Cara stood by her parents. Her father held her gloved hand and squeezed it as dampness glistened on her lashes.
Cara tossed a dozen roses on the grave, and their red petals looked like drops of blood against the snow. She patted Eric’s coffin and whispered, “You’re finally rid of your demons. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat then retreated with the other grievers. She noticed Nancy was not at the funeral, but she didn’t blame her. Nancy knew Eric during his dark years, and she had been, understandably, appalled at the news that her fiancé was the Mountainside Strangler. Cara felt blessed she had many years of good memories with Eric, but she couldn’t get the mutilated bodies out of her mind, and Nadyia’s dead eyes haunted her sleep.
She saw Hawk by the tree, its gnarled branches a perfect backdrop for the gloominess of the day. His gaze held desire, tenderness, and sympathy. Nodding to him, she turned her head away. I’m sorry, Hawk. I know I owe you an explanation, but I just can’t deal with anything right now. I know I’m avoiding you by hiding out at my parents’ house, but I can’t be a part of your world anymore. Our worlds are too different. I miss you terribly, but it’s for the best that we go our separate ways. I’m sorry, Hawk. So sorry.
She slid over the hearse’s cold, leather seats to make room for her family, looking out the window at the snow-covered graves. The mausoleums and statues lent an air of desolation to the scenery. As snow flurries swirled down from the sky, the limousine began its retreat from the cemetery. Cara stared at Hawk and their eyes locked for a heartbeat. As the limo passed, Hawk blew her a kiss.
* * *
The cemetery had been empty for a long while as Hawk stared at the newly dug grave. During the burial, he stood in the back, watching Cara. Since that night, she had withdrawn from him. He respected that she needed time with her family to grieve the loss of her beloved cousin and to come to terms with the fact that Eric had bestowed so much sorrow on so many lives. Hawk decided early on he would give her space. He was hurt she didn’t seek him out for comfort, but he knew she needed to be with her parents. Eight days had passed since Eric’s murder.
I miss my sweet wildcat. My bed is empty without her warm body and ass pressed against my cock. I need to fuck her. I miss our conversations and bantering. I need her on the back of my bike. Fuck, I miss her bad. I need to talk to her so we can get back on track.
Reaching down, Hawk picked up one of the red rose petals Cara had strewn over Eric’s grave. Rubbing it against his cheek, its softness felt like her caresses on his face. He knew she hurt, but he hurt as well, wishing like hell he could have been there to save Cara from all the pain and humiliation she’d endured in the shack that night. She relied on him to keep her safe and protected, and he’d fucking failed her. It was something he’d have t
o live with for the rest of his life. All he wanted was to hold her and tell her it would get better. He needed her in his life, and he had no intention of letting her go.
Placing the rose petal in his pocket, Hawk walked out of the cemetery, the snow crunching under his boots.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Cara, you’re going to have to join the living again,” Sherrie said as she sat cross-legged on Cara’s bed.
“I know,” Cara muttered.
“It feels so weird sitting on your bed in your old bedroom like we used to do in high school when we’d spend all that time talking about guys.”
Cara nodded. She didn’t feel like talking, but Sherrie was right about having to get back out in the world.
“Speaking of guys, what’s going on with Hawk?”
“Nothing. It’s over.”
“Over? Why? I thought he made you happy. You know, girl, you were happy when you and Hawk were an item.”
Cara shrugged. “It’s over. Things don’t last forever.”
Sherrie took one of Cara’s hands, gripping it. “Cara, I know you’re hurting about Eric. I loved him, too. We all had some crazy fun over the years, but the Eric you and I knew wasn’t the dark Eric that took over his life.”
“I just need some time, Sherrie. Leave it alone.”
“I won’t because I know you’ll go deeper inside yourself, and for what? Hawk has been calling me several times a week asking about you. He said you won’t answer his phone calls or texts, and you haven’t been to the office. You at least owe him an explanation.”
“I know,” she whispered. “On another note, Jax is out of the hospital, and he’s doing great. I went to see him a few times. Kylie keeps me informed.”
Sherrie shook her head. “It’s useless to talk to you. You’re so damn stubborn. When you make up your mind, there’s no changing it.”
“Then don’t try.”
“I think you’re making a big mistake. I hate to see you sabotage yourself. I care about you.”
“I know you do, Sherrie, but if I’m making a mistake, it’s my problem, okay?”
Sherrie leaned over and hugged her best friend. “I’m there for you, no matter what. It’s okay, because when you’re ready, you’ll know.”
* * *
I’ll never understand women. When I think I got ’em figured out, they do shit like Cara’s doing. I don’t know what I did to her. I told her to keep her ass in the clubhouse that night. She didn’t listen, and all kinds of shit happened. Damn, why didn’t she stay at the clubhouse? She won’t return my calls, won’t even speak to me. What the fuck did I do to piss her off like that? I’ve given her space, but it’s been a month, and I’m done with waiting for her to come around. I miss her too much. Fuck, that’s why I never wanted any attachments, because you just get burned in the end.
Hawk thought about Cara all the time; he couldn’t believe how she had taken over his thoughts, his heart, and his life. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. When he saw her half-naked and trembling in front of Viper, his cock in her mouth, Hawk went ballistic. His one regret was that he didn’t kill the motherfucker; however, his boot-stomping made Viper impotent, something that pleased Hawk to no end. If he ever saw that fucker again, he would kill him without any hesitation. Although, he figured he wouldn’t be seeing Viper any time soon, since he was in federal prison awaiting trial on a slew of charges, among them sex-trafficking, first-degree murder, and aiding and abetting.
Hawk learned from CBI that Viper and the others wouldn’t see the free world again. Hawk knew the Nomads would be lucky if they made it six months in prison. Through the outlaw grapevine, Hawk learned Reaper promised punishment for the Nomads for holding out on all that money and for double-crossing the other chapters. Viper would get what he deserved.
“You still sulking?” Banger asked as he slid on the bar stool next to Hawk.
Hawk glared at him, threw back a shot of whiskey, and then motioned for Jerry to bring him another. “Jerry’s close to getting patched in. He’ll make a good addition to the brotherhood.”
“Yeah, he will. You know, you got a spitfire as your woman.” Banger laughed. “Fuck, she cracked Viper’s skull, almost killed him. She’s got gumption.”
“She’s not my woman.”
“The hell she ain’t. No woman does that for a man without being his woman. Problem with you is you’re acting like a pussy, sulking around here instead of claimin’ her and makin’ her your ol’ lady.”
“Butt out, old man.”
“Get off your sulky ass and claim her pussy so we can get on with club business. Fuck, because of your pussy-whipped ass, I can’t run the club. Get your shit straight.” Banger downed his shot, clapped Hawk on his shoulder, and walked over to Brandi. Hawk watched as Banger grabbed her ass, and tugged her close then kissed her. Dragging her behind him, they went to one of the small rooms.
Banger’s words echoed in Hawk’s mind. He threw back his last shot, nodded to Jerry, and walked out of the clubhouse. He jumped on his bike and headed toward Pinewood Springs.
Cara owed him an explanation, and he was fucking going to get it.
* * *
Hawk stood on the mansion’s porch between two stone columns; he had never been to a house this big or ritzy. As he rang the bell, he hoped Cara would answer, but a slim, attractive woman in her early fifties opened the door instead. She greeted him with a look of utter disapproval. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Cara.”
“Cara? She’s not available. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I know she’s here. I need to talk to her.”
“Is this about the problem she’s having with her car? I think my husband found a mechanic.”
Knowing this bitch was his babe’s mother kept him from being rude, but she had such a high-and-mighty air about her that he would have loved to have set her straight. Biting his tongue, Hawk just stared at her. She appeared to be flustered by him and his tattoos, her eyes glued to the hawk. It struck him as funny, since she didn’t seem to be the type of person who would fluster easily.
As she closed the door, Hawk put his foot out to prevent it from shutting.
Surprise shone in her brown eyes. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir. I know who you are—you’re that hoodlum who’s been sniffing around my daughter. Eric told me all about you and your gang.”
“I don’t belong to a gang, and I don’t sniff around anyone, ma’am,” he said.
“It’s a slap in my face that my daughter would even entertain going out with you. And you standing here now, well, you don’t even have the decency to be embarrassed about the situation,” she said in a tight voice.
As anger flared in his eyes, he said, “I don’t embarrass. Now, ma’am, will you please get Cara? I need to talk with her.” He stood his ground, his foot still in the door.
“What’s going on here, Cathy?” a man’s voice boomed.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” his wife replied.
Vincent Minelli was a tall man in his mid-fifties. His thinning hair had specks of gray among the brown strands, and he had warm, green eyes and a winning smile. He came to his wife’s side, hand on the small of her back, and asked, “What seems to be the problem?”
“There’s no problem. I’m here to talk with Cara. We know each other,” Hawk said.
“I’ve already told him Cara isn’t available,” Cathy said in a high voice.
“Nonsense, Cara’s here.” Vincent went to the bottom of the grand staircase and bellowed, “Cara, come down here.”
“Vince, I don’t think we should allow this.” She wrung her hands. “This isn’t something we want to encourage.”
“What’s up, Dad?” Cara said as she came down the stairs.
“Your friend is here to see you,” her father explained.
“Cara, you don’t have to—”
“Come on, Cathy, let Cara and her friend be alone.” Turning to Hawk, h
e said, “What’s your name, sir?”
“Hawk.”
“Interesting.”
Vincent led his wife out of the foyer and into the living room. Cathy kept looking over her shoulder, worried to leave her daughter alone with such a man.
Cara stood in front of Hawk. Fuck, she looks beautiful. I can’t let her go, no matter what she says. I can’t let her go from my life. Cara barely had any makeup on and wore black yoga pants with a white, long-sleeved t-shirt, her clothes molded to every curve of her body. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her soft lips. I want to crawl all over her. Easy, Hawk, slow down. Don’t scare her. You gotta play it cool. His cock pushed against his jeans. She was the only woman who gave him a hard-on just by looking at him.
“How have you been, Cara?” he asked softly.
“I’m better. Why did you come?” Her eyes were downcast.
“I want to know what’s going on. You haven’t returned any of my calls or texts. You haven’t been at your house or office. It’s like you disappeared from my life. Look at me and tell me what’s going on.”
She raised her eyes to him, bit her lower lip then mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I thought you would’ve moved on by now.” She shrugged, as if that explained everything.
“Moved on? From what? From us?” Hawk stomped his numbing feet “It’s fuckin’ freezing out here. Can I come in?”
Cara moved aside and let Hawk in. “Follow me.”
Hawk followed her to a large room enclosed in glass windows on two sides. The other side had a fireplace with a log burning brightly, and overstuffed chairs and couches, along with floor-to-ceiling bookcases, made up the sun room. Hawk imagined Cara, as a child, sitting and reading her favorite books there. The room suited her, and her bungalow had a lot of the same coziness.
“Hawk, I can’t do this anymore. I need normalcy in my life, not shoot-outs with rival clubs, wild parties, and all the other chaos that goes with your world.”
