Hawk (Sex and Bullets Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  Biting into my trembling lower lip, I climb into the first cab that stops and give the cabbie directions. Then I lean back in my seat, exhausted.

  My phone keeps ringing, so I mute the sound. Glancing at it, I discover ten text messages waiting, from the same number Hawk called me.

  I turn my phone off and shove it into my purse, because right now I could scream and throw my phone out of the window. I’m shaking, and my eyes burn.

  Hearing his voice has broken me a little bit more, and I’m in so many pieces I don’t know how I can go on.

  ***

  The cabbie leaves me right outside the Starbucks in the half-empty parking lot. I pay him through the window, and he drives away.

  Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I glance around, feeling an itch between my shoulder blades, as if someone’s watching me.

  Weird.

  I walk toward the entrance of the shop, when someone steps out from a parked black car and grabs my arm.

  “Please come with me, Layla,” he says, and the use of my name throws me for a moment, the shock locking my muscles.

  “Who are you? Are you with Dorothy?” He nods, but he’s dragging me to the black car, and I dig my heels in, my brain ticking again. “Stop. Let me go. Help!”

  He pushes me into the car, and another guy is there. He grabs me and holds me down while the first guy climbs behind the wheel and drives away. I scream, and the guy’s hold on me tightens.

  “Don’t make me hurt you,” he says in a quiet, deadly voice, and I still, suddenly remembering I’m not alone anymore. It’s not just my body.

  I must protect my baby.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask, not moving a muscle. “Where’s Dorothy? Is she okay?”

  The man says nothing and drives on in silence that stuffs my ears and turns my heartbeat into a horror movie soundtrack in my ears.

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  How did they find me? Where is Dorothy? How did this happen?

  And above all, what am I going to do?

  Keep quiet for now, I guess, and still, not giving them an excuse to hurt me. A thought strikes me then. If these are Sandivar’s people, they took me to get to Hawk. It’s not me they want.

  Which means they might kill me if Hawk doesn’t take the bait.

  But it also means they’ll tell Hawk where to come meet them. Knowing Hawk, he’ll want to see me. He’ll demand an exchange.

  Right?

  Oh God. I’m making up scenarios in my mind. This isn’t a movie. I have no clue how these people are thinking, what they are capable of. However, what little I’ve seen of their actions in the warehouse basement, when they had Hawk, should be a warning that they are capable of violence just for the sake of violence.

  Not reassuring.

  The air is locked in my lungs. Breathing is a struggle. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so scared in my whole damn life, although seeing Hawk tied up and bloody in that basement came close.

  My head is spinning. My stomach is churning. Did Hawk get my note?

  I close my eyes and hope not to puke on the guy who’s holding me. I slump back and focus on breathing.

  A few days ago I did my best to save Hawk’s life. Now I have to try and do the same for his baby.

  And this is how I’m going about saving the world, I guess—or try to, anyway: one person I love at a time.

  ***

  I’m keeping my eyes open as we drive through the city. We’re heading away from the center. Not surprising. Without lifting my head, the guy’s inked arm locked around my neck in a mockery of a loving embrace—ink like Hawk’s, a hold like Hawk’s, and God how I wish he were here, how I wish I hadn’t left—I struggle to see something, anything that might tell me where we are.

  A landmark. A spark of recognition in a city I’ve grown up in.

  Wait. Is that the Museum of Art with its colonnade?

  Crap, and if it is? How is this helping?

  Calm down. North. We are heading north. Maybe.

  Holy crap, I’m terrified. No matter how hard I fight it, the panic keeps resurfacing, a claw that’s dragging me down into a black void.

  Focus on the facts. Dorothy texted you.

  Or someone texted you from her phone. How did they find Dorothy? Did they find her car near the warehouse?

  There were many cars parked there, though. Why would they investigate that one? This isn’t making any sense.

  After what feels like hours, we stop, and I’m yanked out of the car. It looks like a normal city street, and not the bad sort, either. The guy who’s gripping my arm in a vise is dressed in a dark suit, his blond hair gelled back.

  “Now, now,” he says in a voice like an oil slick as he drags me toward the building, even though I’m not resisting. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have gotten yourself involved. That bastard, Fleming, should have kept you out. Selfish douchebag.”

  But he had tried to keep me out of it, hadn’t he? He’d kept his distance. He’d stopped replying to my calls when things started going wrong and then tried to get me to leave the warehouse.

  I bite my lip, my eyes going blurry. He hesitated to open up to me, to show any feeling toward me, trying to shelter me from this. But I stayed because I was falling for him.

  Crap, I shouldn’t have run. I should have stayed to see if he’d apologize. If he said anything else. I think… I see how it all looked to him when Raylin brought him to me, and I showed him the test. He’s right. I’d cried on his shoulder about not being able to have kids and then suddenly…

  I resist the urge to touch my stomach again. Can’t give these guys any more ammunition against Hawk. Because if he tried to shelter me, that means he cares. And if he cares, today’s fight can’t be the end, right?

  It can’t. I love him. No matter how he hurt me today, he’s the man I want, and the father of my baby, and I’ll keep it together.

  For all of us.

  ***

  The first thing I notice when I am shoved into the apartment is Dorothy. She’s sitting on the sofa, her eyes red-rimmed, her face pale, her dark hair a mess on her shoulders, her clothes in disarray.

  Then she notices me and squeals, jumping to her feet. She throws herself on me, hugging me tight, and I hug her back, relieved beyond words that she’s okay.

  “Dodo.” I pull back to check her over, afraid I missed some injury. “Did they hurt you?”

  “No. Just some scrapes and bruises.” She’s looking at me like she can’t believe I’m standing here. Her dark eyes are round as saucers. “What’s happening, Lay? Are these people nuts? Why would they want to kidnap you? Does it have to do with tall, dark and mysterious? Is he in trouble?”

  Hearing her referring to Hawk like that makes my throat close up. So much has gone down since the last time I spoke to her. And how can I talk to her? How can I be sure nobody is listening in?

  When the silence stretches, she grabs my hand and drags me to the sofa. I curl up beside her and try to figure out what I can tell her.

  “How did they find you?” I whisper, glancing around. I can’t see cameras, but there might be bugs hidden anywhere. “I’m so sorry. I was so sure I left nothing that led to you.”

  “I called your phone,” she says, “and got back a text, telling me where to meet you.” She wipes at her eyes. “How did they get your phone?”

  Oh crap. My cell. “They took it from me back when they found me together with Hawk.” Her eyes widen even more, and I’m still not sure how much to tell her. “Look, Dodo…”

  “You won’t believe how worried I was.” She’s still gripping my hand as if afraid I’ll vanish if she lets go. “When I got that text to meet you for coffee I didn’t think anything of it, but then… then they grabbed me and locked me up and said you’d be joining me soon, and I was so frigging afraid!”

  “Shh.” I stroke her cheek. “I’m so sorry for this. I wish they’d never taken my phone. I wish I hadn’t pulled you into this.”

  “And w
hat is this?” She waves her other hand around. “Who are these people? What do they want with you?”

  “It’s not me they want.” I sigh, pull my hand from her hold. “It’s Hawk. They’re the bad guys, Dodo. He’s trying to take them down, and they don’t like it.”

  She lets out a choked laugh. “What, he’s like a vigilante or something? Like Spiderman?”

  “No, he’s just trying to make right what his parents broke. It’s complicated. I’ll explain later, okay? I promise.” I lean closer. “Did you overhear anything? About their plans with us, with Hawk?”

  She shakes her head, then brings a lock of dark hair to her mouth and chews on it, like she always does when she’s stressed. “They don’t stick around much. They bring food and water and leave again. I was just the bait for you, and you… you’re the bait for Hawk? Is this what this is?”

  “Looks like it,” I say miserably.

  “Oh God.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So…you and Hawk are like, together-together now?” Letting the chewed-on lock fall from her mouth, she peeks up at me from under lowered lashes, smiling, and trust Dorothy to be more interested in my love life rather than the kidnapping situation we’ve found ourselves in.

  “I… I don’t know.” I curl my hands in my lap, turning everything Hawk told me over in my head. “It’s complicated.”

  “How so?” She cocks her hand to the side and selects another lock to chew on. “What aren’t you telling me, Lay? I know you. I know you’re holding back something important.”

  Shit. “We need to find a way to let Hawk know where we are. Do you know where we are?” I start to get up. “We could look around in case there’s a phone they forgot about—”

  “Lay.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back down, staring into my eyes. “What aren’t you telling me? What has you so freaked out and… and so happy at the same time?”

  Holy crap, I should’ve known Dorothy can read me like an open book. And to be honest, I didn’t know my happiness shows even when I’m not consciously thinking about it all.

  I put my arms around her waist, hugging her, and putting my mouth close to her ear, tell her everything.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hawk

  “What do you mean they can’t find her?” My fists clench, and black trembles at the edge of my vision. I’ve forgotten how to fucking breathe. “What did they say?”

  Storm’s call to the chopper pilots has gone down as badly as expected. They have no clue where she went, and obviously she didn’t turn up after two hours, like she promised she would.

  “Maybe she will still show up,” Rook says. “She was pissed at you, bro, but I don’t think she’ll run away and change her name or something.”

  I shake my head. This is Layla we’re talking about. You never know. “She didn’t even let me say I was sorry when I called. Her phone is off. Goddammit.”

  “She should be fine,” Storm says. “She probably just wants some time alone to think and rest, do her hair… Ow.” He glares at Raylin who has just elbowed him. “What?”

  “Don’t be a jerk. She was devastated that Hawk was mean to her. I doubt the first thing on her mind is her hair.”

  He puts a finger under her chin and steals a kiss. “I know that. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

  She huffs but smiles at him and mock-punches him in the arm. “So what now?”

  A man enters the room, dressed in a dark, pressed uniform, and offers a folded note on a silver tray.

  I kid you not. I used to see that at my parents’ place growing up, but this is Storm we’re talking about.

  “The note is for Mr. Fleming,” the man says, and I sit up from my slouch.

  “From whom?”

  “The chopper pilot has just returned and said it’s for you.”

  My hand is shaking as I unfold it. “Silver trays, Storm?” I snark to cover up my nerves.

  “Caleb likes that. He’s a trained butler.”

  “Do you import them from England or something?” But my snark dies as I read the note. In a flowing script, I read Layla’s words and they stab me like knives.

  I love you, she writes. I’d never lie to you about anything, least about this baby. But if you don’t want to be with me, that’s okay. I’m keeping it, in case you’re wondering. And I don’t want you to marry me. I don’t want your money, or your name. I don’t want anything from you.

  Fuck me…

  “Hawk?”

  “Shut up.” I hold my hand up while I read the rest.

  What you’re doing, trying to set the world to rights… that’s a beautiful thing, she writes. I admire you for it. Don’t stop. I really want you to catch the bad guys and fix this. I only wish…

  But she never writes what she wishes, and I don’t know if it was because she ran out of time or changed her mind. She has signed her name with a flourish.

  Layla.

  I throw the paper at Storm. “She’s gone.”

  He frowns, unfolds the paper. “Anything about where to find her?”

  No. And fear curls low in my stomach, makes me wanna hurl.

  “She’ll be fine,” Rook chimes in and flip him off. “What?”

  “I have a fucking bad feeling about this,” I tell him and almost double over with it. Hell, I’m not a psychic, but when Storm took off last year, I kinda knew it in my bones when he got into trouble.

  What I felt then is nowhere as bad as what I’m feeling now, and guilt makes it even worse. If anything happens to her… to them. I won’t know what to do with myself.

  And then my prepaid phone, the one I used to call Layla, starts ringing and things go downhill from there.

  ***

  “They fucking got her. Fuck them, fucking bastards.” I’m about to throw the phone at the wall, but Rook grabs my wrist and pulls me back. “I fucking knew it. I knew I’d get her killed.”

  “Shut up, and sit down,” Rook commands, hauling me to the couch. I’m not a small guy, and Rook is a bit shorter, but he makes up for it in bulk. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “Go to hell,” I say automatically, and Rook ignores me completely. He’s used to my moods.

  “Tell us exactly what they said,” Storm says, and Raylin grabs her tablet from the table, as if she’s about to start taking notes.

  I’d howl with laughter at the absurdity of it if my goddamn stomach wasn’t twisted up in a ball of dread.

  “They’ll exchange her for me tonight.”

  “Where?”

  “Corner of Linkwood Road and West Cold Spring Lane.”

  “What’s that? Random address?”

  I shrug. No fucking clue. “Then they’ll call me again with new directions.”

  “What’s around there? A park, right?”

  “Dude, they could be anywhere,” Rook says and rubs his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “What shall we do?” Raylin asks.

  Rook turns to me. “Call your Chinese mafia buddies. I’ll call mine. We’ll—”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “I said no. I won’t put Layla and the baby’s life in danger.”

  Raylin’s face softens.

  Storm’s hardens. “You can’t just give yourself up, man. Goddammit, Hawk, stop with the suicidal shit.”

  “It’s not suicidal. Can’t you fucking see? She’s my woman. And my baby. It’s the only thing I can do. Besides. I already told Lopez I’d go in as his bait. Nothing has changed.”

  Except I don’t wanna do it anymore, and I am doing it anyway, plus it will have to be on the kidnappers’ terms, not mine.

  Anyway, hell. My terms, their terms, what the fuck ever. As if that would have ever worked out. At least now I know I’m doing it for Layla.

  Her leaving is my fault. But fuck, it’s not guilt that’s driving me to her. I meant what I said.

  She’s my woman. My baby. And I know with a certainty that goes all the way to my bones, t
o the core of my dreams, that I love them both and that I’d do anything to see them safe.

  I’d do anything for my family.

  ***

  I’m already heading for the helipad, although there are still hours to the meeting time, and Rook and Storm have to physically haul me back to the house.

  They insist we should have a plan. I can’t fucking see what the use of a plan is at this point, but I sit glaring at them, and it takes everything I have not to punch them both in the face and take off.

  “Hey, are you paying attention?” Rook waves a hand in front of my face. “Snap out of it, man. I know you’ve had a few too many shocks today, but—”

  “Can’t put them in more danger, Rook.” My hands are shaking, so I press them together and clench my jaw. “Tell me you get this.”

  “Loud and clear, bro.” He nods, and something in my chest relaxes. “Nothing will be done until she is delivered to us alive and well. But after that, Hawk… After that, we need to have a damn plan in place.”

  “If we have guys surrounding the place, they’ll know, goddammit.”

  “Then we don’t have them surrounding the place, moron. We call them the moment we know Layla is out.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then we make our move. I have an idea.” Rook grins and it’s disturbing. This guy’s relaxed face is a scowl, so you can imagine. “You have to trust me on this.”

  “Oh boy,” Raylin says, and yeah, that sums it up.

  Damn. Shoot me now, why don’t you? Should be less painful than what Rook has in mind.

  ***

  “Okay, any questions?” Rook asks, and the urge to knock his teeth out is back, coupled with the urge to go looking for that bottle of scotch.

  “Nah.” This is worse than I imagined. Go figure. “Okay, recap. I let them grab me while you take Layla to safety.” So far so good. “Meanwhile you’ll have people surround the place, and I’ll take Sandivar hostage… and everyone attacks?”

  “Solid plan,” Rook says.

  Storm is staring at Rook, his eyes dark. “Am I the only one thinking this is a stupid plan?”

  “Let’s hear your clever one, then,” Rook shoots back. “It may not be subtle, but it will work. The devil is in the details, like I told you.”